“Yes. A manuscript. It’s probably not important.”
“Probably not. What was the work about?”
“Theology, I’d say.”
Valera nodded.
“Does that surprise you?”
“No. On the contrary. Diego was an authority on the history of religion. A learned man. In this firm he is still remembered with great affection.
Tell me, what particular aspects of the history of the property are you interested in?”
“I think you’ve already helped me a great deal, Señor Valera. I wouldn’t like to take up any more of your time.”
The lawyer nodded, looking relieved.
“It’s the house, isn’t it?” he asked.
“A strange place, yes,” I agreed.
“I remember going there once when I was young, shortly after Don Diego bought it.”
“Do you know why he bought it?”
“He said he’d been fascinated with it ever since he was a child and had always thought he’d like to live there. Don Diego was like that. Sometimes he acted like a young boy who would give everything up in exchange for a dream.”
I didn’t say anything.
“Are you all right?”
“Yes, fine. Do you know anything about the owner from whom Señor Marlasca bought the house? Someone called Bernabé Massot?”
“He’d made his money in the Americas. He didn’t spend more than an hour in the house. He bought it when he returned from Cuba and kept it empty for years. He didn’t say why. He lived in a mansion he had built in Arenys de Mar and sold the tower house for nothing. He didn’t want to have anything to do with it.”
“And before him?”
“I think a priest lived there. A Jesuit. I’m not sure. My father was the person who took care of Don Diego’s business and when Don Diego died, he burned all of the files.”
“Why would he do that?”
“Because of all the things I’ve told you. To avoid rumors and preserve the memory of his friend, I suppose. The truth is, he never told me. My father was not the sort of man to offer explanations, but he must have had his reasons. Good reasons, I’m sure. Diego had been a good friend to him, as well as being his partner, and all of it was very painful for my father.”
“What happened to the Jesuit?”
“I believe he had disciplinary issues with the order. He was a friend of Father Cinto Verdaguer, and I think he was mixed up in some of his problems, if you know what I mean.”
“Exorcisms.”
“Gossip.”
“How could a Jesuit who had been thrown out of the order afford a house like that?”
I sensed that I was scraping the bottom of the barrel.
“I’d like to be of further help, Señor Martín, but I don’t know how. Believe me.”
“Thank you for your time, Señor Valera.”