“Why do you want to see her alone?”
“That’s my business,” he replied, putting on the sternest expression he could muster. “Tell her to come here, tomorrow at twelve o’clock. Can you do that?”
“She’s very worried about Diego just now.” A pained expression flashed across her face. “My brother hasn’t said a single word since ... what happened yesterday. I don’t know if she’ll want to leave him on his own.”
“Well, you tell her that’s precisely what I want to talk to her about, but it has to be alone. I can’t stress enough how important that part is.”
“Okay, if that’s all it is, it should be fine,” Helena replied after a moment’s thought. “Sure, I’ll do it.”
“And what about me?” Tristán asked.
“I need you to look for something in your house and bring it to me. Something of your father’s.”
“Something?”
“A hammer, to be specific.”
“A hammer?” Tristán looked confused. “There must be half a dozen hammers in our workshop. What do you want a hammer for?”
“I need one in particular. It’s got a red wooden handle, with a rounded end. And it’s also got bloodstains on it.”
A silence fell. It lasted for three heartbeats while it dawned on Tristán what they were talking about.
“You mean the hammer Diego used to—”
“Yes,” said Roberto. “Do you know where it is?”
“No idea, but I can look.”
“And your father mustn’t know. Okay?”
“And if I bring you the hammer, you promise you won’t say anything about us?”
“You have my word.” Roberto raised his right hand.
“How can we be sure you aren’t lying to us?”
“You can’t,” Roberto snapped, more sharply than necessary, and he immediately felt bad. “You just have to trust me. Do we have a deal or not?”
Tristán swallowed and looked down at the floor, clearly worried. Eventually, he gave a nod.
“I’ll get you the damn hammer,” he said in a whisper, “but I’ll need time.”
“Three days. I’ll meet you here in the afternoon, three days from now, okay?”
Tristán Docampo gave another nod.
“Great.” Roberto stood up. “It looks like the weather is clearing up. Time for me to head back.”
He opened the door, with a bitter feeling in his heart, but he didn’t let it show. He had to see this through.
“See you guys again soon,” he said from the doorway. “Oh, just one more thing ...”
“What?” said Tristán.
“Next time, make sure to lock the door?”
He left without looking back. The rain had eased, only a few scattered drops falling now. He walked away, a heavy ball in the pit of his stomach.
