Across town, Pepito is banging on the door of Candy's flat with the flattened butt of a rigid palm. Raphael is positioned downstairs in the same doorway as the night before with a clear view to the flat and both ends of the street. His instructions are clear. Keep his eyes peeled and his head down. And it feels good to the boy to be useful - needed even. A worthy player who'd earned his stripes in the great detective's plan. It feels so good that his heart is pumping overtime, swelling up with pride. Better than fighting and scamming and stealing. Better than all that shit he'd had to do to survive because this time - this time he was batting for the other side. He leans back in the doorway with his hands thrust deep in the folds of his armpits and swivels his head up and down the street. Right, then left, then right again. Just to make sure. Just to double check, like Pepito told him, he leans forwards, just a fraction and swivels his head. Right, then left, then right again.
"Come on, come on ... open up." Pepito is shouting on the other side of the door with his blood pressure rising and his patience wearing out. I haven't got all day ... come one Candy, open up."
Eventually, she answers. Her voice sluggish and petulant through six inches of wood. "What do you want .... I told you everything last night."
"Come on, come on ... open up." Pepito is shouting on the other side of the door with his blood pressure rising and his patience wearing out. I haven't got all day ... come one Candy, open up."
Eventually, she answers. Her voice sluggish and petulant through six inches of wood. "What do you want .... I told you everything last night."
"Just open the door .. come on, you want to help find who killed Rosa or not?"
"You not figured that out yet?" She snorts derisively as she pulls open the door. But Pepito is not prepared for what he finds standing before him with one hand reclining on the slope of her hip. He steps backwards then forwards and reaches out to touch the bruises on her face as she sways in the doorway. She winces, pulling backwards and turns to walk away.
"Who did this?" He closes the door behind him with a forceful nudge from his shoulder.
"I tripped."
"Tripped into a fist by the looks of it ..." He follows her into the living room.
"Something like that." She sits down at the table and pulls out the other chair with her foot.
"Take a load off."
He does. Tentatively, he sits down next to her and scrutinizes her face.
"Francisco?" She shrugs, lowering her eyes towards the table and picks at a smudge on the surface with an agitated nail. But Pepito knows that she would never admit it, even if he did. He sits back in the chair and taps his fingers restlessly on the table. He could taste the phlegm rising in the back of his throat. The phlegm of acid indignation, the phlegm of disgust. The more he learned about Francisco, the less he liked. He swallows hard and dips his hand into his jacket pocket. He pulls out the passport and opens it to the page with the photograph which he flips around and displays to Candy. She lifts her head and looks at the passport, her eyes slipping over the details on the page eventually coming to rest on Pepito's face with a troubled expression.
"Recognise her?" Pepito asks. She shakes her head.
"Take a good look."
She rises from the table and turns her back, moving towards the window. "I've never seen her before," she says, her voice muffled as she slips her head between the curtains and looks out.
"You can't talk? Is that it?"
She doesn't answer but continues gazing out of the window.
"Frightened what Francisco will do to you if you talk to me? Frightened that he might kill you next time?"
She turns around, her mouth opening to speak but decides against it. Shaking her head, she turns back and straightens the curtains. Pepito stands up, slipping the passport back in his pocket and moves towards her.
"Look," he says, "whatever you're mixed up in, I can help you but you have to trust me .. you have to give me a chance."
She turns around and rests her eyes on Pepito's haggard face. "How old are you anyway?" she asks, her head tipped to one side, sizing him up, "you think you're a match for a man like Cisco?"
Pepito shrugs.
"You get too close Detective, he's going to chew you up and spit you out."
"Am I getting close Candy?" He moves around behind her, his voice seductively close to her ear. "Is that it? Am I onto something?"
A shudder runs down her spine but she shakes it off, lifting her shoulders as she turns. "You're not even close."
But Pepito is not put off. He presses forwards with his back braced and his voice raised.
"Did Francisco kill her? Did he rough her up the way he did you, except ... maybe he went a little too far .." His voice is climbing higher, "did she find something out that he didn't want her to know? Was it to shut her up Candy?"
She turns her back but he reaches out and grabs her wrist. "Is that it? Am I closer now Candy?"
She pulls away from his tightening grip and crosses the room. She stands with her back to the wall and her arms crossed over her chest. "He was with me that Wednesday night .. got it?" She spits the words out between her teeth.
"What time?"
"All night."
"Where?"
"Here." She moves towards the window again and pokes her head between the curtains.
"What are you afraid of Candy ... nobody's watching ... nobody knows."
"And him?" She flicks her head down to the street below where Raphael is standing, slouched in a doorway.
"He's with me."
"You make a wonderful couple ..."
"And you and Francisco Turó ... did you make a wonderful couple?"
"It wasn't like that ..." She crosses over to the table with anxious steps and reaches for a cigarette. She lights it and sits down, expelling the smoke from deep inside her lungs with a forceful rush of air. "It was nothing, really .. a fling, we used to have something going a while back but then he met Rosa."
"Did he throw you over for Rosa?"
She laughs, throwing her head back, blowing the smoke out through her nostrils. "What? You think I killed her now? What's next Detective Pons ... you think I'd knock her off for a man like Cisco?"
Pepito shrugs, he knows stranger things have happened but if he's pressed on the point he'd have to admit that Candy is not at the top of his list, that place is already taken. Taken by Francisco Turó, who is the kind of person to shoot first and think about the reasons later. The only question left remaining was, what did Rosa know that Pepito didn't? Somehow, the passport is his only real clue and if he could work that out, he'd have his motive. As for her account of his whereabouts on the night of the murder, he didn't believe her. She was lying. Pure and simple. Lying because he'd told her to and most likely, he'd slapped her around to make his point. For the first time in a long time, everything was beginning to fall into place. He crosses towards her and sits down at the table, pulling the passport out and waving it in front of her swollen face.
"You see Candy, no matter how hard you try to cover for him, it won't work. I'll find out sooner or later ... I'll find out the truth with or without you." He rises tucking the document back in his pocket as he turns to leave. "And another thing ..." he adds with his foot through the door and his shackles raised. "If you happen to see Francisco again ... tell him my business is trouble."
He hoped that she would run to tell him of their recent chat, in fact, he's counting on it. Which is why, after all that was said and done, he waits further up the street with the motor running on his vespa and Raphael perched on the back. He thought it was wiser to leave the boy behind but after a moments thought, a reckless moment really, he decided to take Raphael with him. He may prove useful, after all, to guard the bike, keep a look out or even pick a lock. By the time Candy steps out onto the street Pepito and Raphael are ready. Ready to do whatever it takes, ready to step into action. They watch her trip lightly up the street with her tail swinging behind her. When she reaches the corner, she stops. She waits. She dips from the waist and fixes her shoe. Then she straightens her back, stretches a leg and flags down a passing taxi. She slips inside. The taxi moves off. And they follow. The follow her all the way to the edge of the city, with the air sliding clean off their backs.
"You not figured that out yet?" She snorts derisively as she pulls open the door. But Pepito is not prepared for what he finds standing before him with one hand reclining on the slope of her hip. He steps backwards then forwards and reaches out to touch the bruises on her face as she sways in the doorway. She winces, pulling backwards and turns to walk away.
"Who did this?" He closes the door behind him with a forceful nudge from his shoulder.
"I tripped."
"Tripped into a fist by the looks of it ..." He follows her into the living room.
"Something like that." She sits down at the table and pulls out the other chair with her foot.
"Take a load off."
He does. Tentatively, he sits down next to her and scrutinizes her face.
"Francisco?" She shrugs, lowering her eyes towards the table and picks at a smudge on the surface with an agitated nail. But Pepito knows that she would never admit it, even if he did. He sits back in the chair and taps his fingers restlessly on the table. He could taste the phlegm rising in the back of his throat. The phlegm of acid indignation, the phlegm of disgust. The more he learned about Francisco, the less he liked. He swallows hard and dips his hand into his jacket pocket. He pulls out the passport and opens it to the page with the photograph which he flips around and displays to Candy. She lifts her head and looks at the passport, her eyes slipping over the details on the page eventually coming to rest on Pepito's face with a troubled expression.
"Recognise her?" Pepito asks. She shakes her head.
"Take a good look."
She rises from the table and turns her back, moving towards the window. "I've never seen her before," she says, her voice muffled as she slips her head between the curtains and looks out.
"You can't talk? Is that it?"
She doesn't answer but continues gazing out of the window.
"Frightened what Francisco will do to you if you talk to me? Frightened that he might kill you next time?"
She turns around, her mouth opening to speak but decides against it. Shaking her head, she turns back and straightens the curtains. Pepito stands up, slipping the passport back in his pocket and moves towards her.
"Look," he says, "whatever you're mixed up in, I can help you but you have to trust me .. you have to give me a chance."
She turns around and rests her eyes on Pepito's haggard face. "How old are you anyway?" she asks, her head tipped to one side, sizing him up, "you think you're a match for a man like Cisco?"
Pepito shrugs.
"You get too close Detective, he's going to chew you up and spit you out."
"Am I getting close Candy?" He moves around behind her, his voice seductively close to her ear. "Is that it? Am I onto something?"
A shudder runs down her spine but she shakes it off, lifting her shoulders as she turns. "You're not even close."
But Pepito is not put off. He presses forwards with his back braced and his voice raised.
"Did Francisco kill her? Did he rough her up the way he did you, except ... maybe he went a little too far .." His voice is climbing higher, "did she find something out that he didn't want her to know? Was it to shut her up Candy?"
She turns her back but he reaches out and grabs her wrist. "Is that it? Am I closer now Candy?"
She pulls away from his tightening grip and crosses the room. She stands with her back to the wall and her arms crossed over her chest. "He was with me that Wednesday night .. got it?" She spits the words out between her teeth.
"What time?"
"All night."
"Where?"
"Here." She moves towards the window again and pokes her head between the curtains.
"What are you afraid of Candy ... nobody's watching ... nobody knows."
"And him?" She flicks her head down to the street below where Raphael is standing, slouched in a doorway.
"He's with me."
"You make a wonderful couple ..."
"And you and Francisco Turó ... did you make a wonderful couple?"
"It wasn't like that ..." She crosses over to the table with anxious steps and reaches for a cigarette. She lights it and sits down, expelling the smoke from deep inside her lungs with a forceful rush of air. "It was nothing, really .. a fling, we used to have something going a while back but then he met Rosa."
"Did he throw you over for Rosa?"
She laughs, throwing her head back, blowing the smoke out through her nostrils. "What? You think I killed her now? What's next Detective Pons ... you think I'd knock her off for a man like Cisco?"
Pepito shrugs, he knows stranger things have happened but if he's pressed on the point he'd have to admit that Candy is not at the top of his list, that place is already taken. Taken by Francisco Turó, who is the kind of person to shoot first and think about the reasons later. The only question left remaining was, what did Rosa know that Pepito didn't? Somehow, the passport is his only real clue and if he could work that out, he'd have his motive. As for her account of his whereabouts on the night of the murder, he didn't believe her. She was lying. Pure and simple. Lying because he'd told her to and most likely, he'd slapped her around to make his point. For the first time in a long time, everything was beginning to fall into place. He crosses towards her and sits down at the table, pulling the passport out and waving it in front of her swollen face.
"You see Candy, no matter how hard you try to cover for him, it won't work. I'll find out sooner or later ... I'll find out the truth with or without you." He rises tucking the document back in his pocket as he turns to leave. "And another thing ..." he adds with his foot through the door and his shackles raised. "If you happen to see Francisco again ... tell him my business is trouble."
He hoped that she would run to tell him of their recent chat, in fact, he's counting on it. Which is why, after all that was said and done, he waits further up the street with the motor running on his vespa and Raphael perched on the back. He thought it was wiser to leave the boy behind but after a moments thought, a reckless moment really, he decided to take Raphael with him. He may prove useful, after all, to guard the bike, keep a look out or even pick a lock. By the time Candy steps out onto the street Pepito and Raphael are ready. Ready to do whatever it takes, ready to step into action. They watch her trip lightly up the street with her tail swinging behind her. When she reaches the corner, she stops. She waits. She dips from the waist and fixes her shoe. Then she straightens her back, stretches a leg and flags down a passing taxi. She slips inside. The taxi moves off. And they follow. The follow her all the way to the edge of the city, with the air sliding clean off their backs.
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