Read Online At Close Quarters by Eugenio Fuentes - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Eugenio Fuentes
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his decision implied renouncing some advantages . But he had an answer now. That very afternoon he intended to buy a ring and everything he needed for an intimate dinner the next day. He would ask her to move in with him. If she said yes, he would ask for an extended leave of absence of at least two years, even if that would not help his career. If she said no, well, he’d rather not think about that possibility…
4
Cupido Listens
One morning, as he was walking out of the flat he had rented, a journalist and a photographer from the local paper, armed with a microphone and a camera, waylaid him to ask him a few questions about a case known as ‘Bling’, which, touching as it did on the intimate conflicts of some well-known families of the city, had whetted the already voracious appetite of the tabloid press. Cupido had pushed away the camera without saying a word. Such stories evoked in him the worst memories of the rural world he was from: unhealthy gossip, the dictatorship of appearances, the shady complacency that some people felt at the disgrace of others. In a Shakespeare play he’d read: “What great ones do, the less will prattle of.” Now he watched in astonishment how that petty curiosity percolated down to all levels of society. No doubt other detectives would have seen in this an opportunity to satisfy their vain glory, publicise their services and raise their fees, but Cupido had always stayed away from the public eye. He liked anonymity and tried to remain unknown and escape people’s notice. Besides, he knew that being unknown, if possible invisible, was essential in his line of work.
And then he was in a city that wasn’t his own. He’d first visited it the previous July – a sojourn motivated not by a desire for a holiday but the need to accompany his mother. She had liked the climate and the seabathing so much that they had decided to return in the middle of March for a stay at the same guesthouse catering for elderly customers. Cupido had rented a flat for the period andhad invited Alkalino, as he knew how few opportunities his friend had to do the things he enjoyed most: travelling, visiting cities and places that differed from the provincial, rural Breda he knew so well, and observing – with astonishment and scepticism, but never outrage – habits and beliefs that were sometimes opposed to his own. Alkalino was very grateful for it and had planned to stay for two or three weeks, not wanting to make a nuisance of himself. But a month had gone by and he was still there. Which actually suited Cupido just fine; he was amused by Alkalino’s comments and witticisms, and interested in his moralistic yet compassionate view of the human condition. Besides, Alkalino visited his mother now and again at the guesthouse. The place was nice, they answered the phone promptly, and there always seemed to be an employee cleaning the corridors, the windows or the toilets. Alkalino , who felt at ease with old people, already knew some of the guests. One afternoon, Cupido could not help but laugh out loud on seeing him dressed in a track suit, with a label still attached to his trousers, ready to go to an aerobics session for the old timers.
Cupido didn’t know how he’d started getting commissions, as he hadn’t advertised his services anywhere. He guessed it had to do with the nature of his job – a lot of people wanted to clear up something disquieting, or shady, or shameful – and his discretion in previous jobs attracted customers who were looking precisely for someone who solved cases inconspicuously.
He’d accepted a first commission just to please his mother. An old man from the guesthouse engaged him to help his daughter. She’d been unlawfully dismissed from work, without any severance pay, accused of an obscure cyber crime, when in fact they had sacked her for other reasons. They had withdrawn all disciplinary sanctions and had paid her compensation when Cupido appeared at the owner’s
4
Cupido Listens
One morning, as he was walking out of the flat he had rented, a journalist and a photographer from the local paper, armed with a microphone and a camera, waylaid him to ask him a few questions about a case known as ‘Bling’, which, touching as it did on the intimate conflicts of some well-known families of the city, had whetted the already voracious appetite of the tabloid press. Cupido had pushed away the camera without saying a word. Such stories evoked in him the worst memories of the rural world he was from: unhealthy gossip, the dictatorship of appearances, the shady complacency that some people felt at the disgrace of others. In a Shakespeare play he’d read: “What great ones do, the less will prattle of.” Now he watched in astonishment how that petty curiosity percolated down to all levels of society. No doubt other detectives would have seen in this an opportunity to satisfy their vain glory, publicise their services and raise their fees, but Cupido had always stayed away from the public eye. He liked anonymity and tried to remain unknown and escape people’s notice. Besides, he knew that being unknown, if possible invisible, was essential in his line of work.
And then he was in a city that wasn’t his own. He’d first visited it the previous July – a sojourn motivated not by a desire for a holiday but the need to accompany his mother. She had liked the climate and the seabathing so much that they had decided to return in the middle of March for a stay at the same guesthouse catering for elderly customers. Cupido had rented a flat for the period andhad invited Alkalino, as he knew how few opportunities his friend had to do the things he enjoyed most: travelling, visiting cities and places that differed from the provincial, rural Breda he knew so well, and observing – with astonishment and scepticism, but never outrage – habits and beliefs that were sometimes opposed to his own. Alkalino was very grateful for it and had planned to stay for two or three weeks, not wanting to make a nuisance of himself. But a month had gone by and he was still there. Which actually suited Cupido just fine; he was amused by Alkalino’s comments and witticisms, and interested in his moralistic yet compassionate view of the human condition. Besides, Alkalino visited his mother now and again at the guesthouse. The place was nice, they answered the phone promptly, and there always seemed to be an employee cleaning the corridors, the windows or the toilets. Alkalino , who felt at ease with old people, already knew some of the guests. One afternoon, Cupido could not help but laugh out loud on seeing him dressed in a track suit, with a label still attached to his trousers, ready to go to an aerobics session for the old timers.
Cupido didn’t know how he’d started getting commissions, as he hadn’t advertised his services anywhere. He guessed it had to do with the nature of his job – a lot of people wanted to clear up something disquieting, or shady, or shameful – and his discretion in previous jobs attracted customers who were looking precisely for someone who solved cases inconspicuously.
He’d accepted a first commission just to please his mother. An old man from the guesthouse engaged him to help his daughter. She’d been unlawfully dismissed from work, without any severance pay, accused of an obscure cyber crime, when in fact they had sacked her for other reasons. They had withdrawn all disciplinary sanctions and had paid her compensation when Cupido appeared at the owner’s
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