They hurried back downstairs, where they found Antía and Diego in the kitchen. Diego had curled up on one of the benches and was snoring like an exhausted puppy, while Antía had found some tins of food. She handed Roberto some sardines in oil, and realizing just how long it had been since he last ate, he proceeded to wolf them down.
“Help yourselves!” Ibaibarriaga huffed.
Roberto was about to come up with a retort, when they heard a thump followed by a scraping sound. To their astonishment, one of the kitchen sideboards, complete with platters, bowls, and plates, began to move, and then, as if by magic, it slid to one side, revealing a secret passageway.
There, looking disheveled and wearing a backpack, stood Varatorta. He gave an indecipherable smile.
46
A Difficult Truth
Varatorta’s gaze shifted from Ibaibarriaga to Antía, from her to Diego, and finally from Diego to Roberto. Finding the writer sitting there at the kitchen table, he showed a flicker of bewilderment, but this was quickly replaced with a beaming, satisfied smile—a look of pent-up excitement.
“Christ, Varatorta,” Ibaibarriaga exploded. “What took you so long?”
Varatorta didn’t respond immediately but stared steadily at Roberto. For some reason, he seemed delighted by the writer’s presence, rather than seeming to have any thought about Roberto giving him away. Grinning, Varatorta gave Roberto a slow, complicit wink.
“I went down to the beach, like you told me to,” he said at last, his voice soft.
“Where does that passageway come out?” Antía said.
“At the old woodshed,” Ibaibarriaga said.
“And what were you doing at the beach?” Roberto interrupted, trying to control the tremor in his voice.
“It was his job to check on the Colombians’ rearguard and the place they docked,” Ibaibarriaga said. “But I don’t get what took so long. Did you run into anyone?”
“There was nobody there, Álvaro.” Varatorta took off his oilskin and sat down at the table, completely serene. “Just an unmanned speedboat pulled up on the sand, that was all.”
“So why didn’t you come and help out at the graveyard?” Ibaibarriaga growled. “Borja’s been hit! If you’d been there, things might’ve gone differently.”
“I was still on the beach when I heard it all kicking off.” Varatorta shrugged. “And then I had to make a detour. I couldn’t just walk up the road with those gunmen heading right this way!”
“Well,” Ibaibarriaga snorted, “we need to get ready. They’ll be here any minute.”
“I love it when we have visitors.” Varatorta stretched his delicate hands across the table, right in front of Roberto. “Especially the unexpected kind.”
“I swear to God,” Ibaibarriaga said, “I don’t get you sometimes. Okay, I’m going back up to see where they’ve gotten to. Don’t let this lot out of your sight. I’ll be right back.”
Ibaibarriaga went off again. For a moment there were only the crackling of the fire in the corner and the ticking of an ornate grandfather clock. It was like the room was holding its breath.
“Well, this is a surprise,” said Varatorta, leaning back in his chair. “I thought you’d still be ... in the place we last saw one another.”
“Your secret cave, you mean.” He was pleased to see a glimmer of apprehension enter Varatorta’s face. “It’s all right. She knows everything.”
“As in . . . everything?”
“Not every single detail. I didn’t want to spoil the surprise.”
Varatorta gave an excited whimper, as if he’d just opened a long-awaited Christmas present. “Really?”
“Really.”
Antía was observing Varatorta quizzically. He gave her one of his contorted smiles.
“It’s so nice that you brought her,” Varatorta said, and then nodded at the sleeping Diego. “And him too. I knew you’d get it in the end.”
“What’s all this?” Antía gave Roberto’s hand a fearful squeeze. “What are you talking about?”
