“We will use the elevator,” Martín said. “It may be necessary to seek evidence on the stairway. I don’t think robbers would use the elevator; they make noise.” He turned to the Capitán: “To judge from the position of the woman’s body, I would say that she was sitting there when her throat was cut; that she was not moved there. Would you agree?”
The Capitán nodded. “Which suggests she was taken by surprise,” he said. “Which in turn suggests she knew the people who murdered her.”
“Possibly,” Martín agreed. “Where is the elevator?”
The smell of blood in the apartment was even stronger than in the kitchen. And there were more flies.
Martín examined both bodies, then the trail of blood leading to the bathroom, and the towel used as a tourniquet. The tiles surrounding the bathtub were shattered, as well as the tub itself, which sat inside the tile base.
He returned to the bedroom and saw the Colt single-action revolver on the desk. A holster for a .45 automatic and an empty clip lay on the table. A bowl for pencils was on the desk. Martín picked up a pencil, hooked the trigger guard of the Colt revolver, and sniffed at the barrel. It had not been fired.
“Other weapons?” he asked.
“There is a .45 automatic, mi Coronel,” Habanzo said. “It has been fired. It is in my possession.”
“Where did you find it?”
“When the young Norteamericano opened the door to me, he had it in his hand. He gave it to me.”
“A stolen Army pistol,” the Capitán said.
“Not necessarily,” Martín said. “This house is owned by el Coronel Jorge Guillermo Frade. The pistol may be his. It is conceivable that he loaned it to his son for protection.”
“That is illegal.”
“You tell el Coronel that, Capitán,” Martín said.
He looked around the room again.
“I now wish to speak to the Norteamericano,” he said. “Here. Habanzo, will you bring him up?”
“You wish to talk to him here, in the scene of the murders?” the Capitán asked.
“It sometimes makes people uneasy to be brought to the scene of the crime,” Martín said. “Uneasy people often say more than they wish. Habanzo, just put him on the elevator. I’d like to speak to him alone.”
“I’d prefer to be here, mi Coronel, when you speak with the suspect,” the Capitán said.
“First of all, he is not a suspect. Secondly, he has refused to answer your questions. Perhaps he will answer mine.”
“I respectfully protest, mi Coronel.”
Martín shrugged.
“And when you have put the Norteamericano on the elevator, Habanzo, please telephone to el Coronel Savia-Gonzalez, apologize for waking him at this house, and tell him that I consider it very important, in a matter of Internal Security, that he come here immediately.”
“Sí, mi Coronel.”
“Thank you, Comandante,” Martín said.
He had a second thought.
“Where is the .45 automatic, did you say?”
“In my possession,” Habanzo said.
“Can you give it to the Norteamericano and have him bring it up here?”
Habanzo’s face registered surprise.