Read Online The Buenos Aires Quintet by Manuel Vázquez Montalbán - Free Book Online Page A

told him to go and see Pignatari. What are you doing?’
    Alma is throwing on her clothes. Suddenly a look of alarm appears on Norman’s face, and he gets up from the bed.
    ‘Who’s that?’
    Alma looks in the direction Norman is pointing. Carvalho appears from the shadows of the staircase.
    ‘Carvalho, the Masked Galician.’
    Norman is about to throw himself on the intruder, but comes to an embarrassed halt when he realizes he’s naked. Carvalho says scornfully: ‘Mind you don’t damage the insatiable ferret.’
    ‘Calm down, Norman. He’s just a voyeur.’
    ‘A disgusting voyeur!’
    ‘No, a very respectful one who’s only come on to the scene once the young lady had finished and was almost dressed again.’
    Alma’s face reflects her efforts to control her indignation, but she is still only half-dressed, so Carvalho takes charge of the situation.
    ‘Now let’s talk quietly and calmly about Raúl, and I hope this time you don’t lie to me. Why did you tell me you hadn’t seen Raúl when you knew where he was hiding?’
    ‘I didn’t lie to you. Raúl didn’t want to see me. You didn’t ask whether I was helping him or not.’
    ‘Why didn’t he want to see you?’
    ‘That’s what I’d like to know. I thought Norman here was looking after him, but he’s gone.’
    ‘From here?’
    ‘No. Norman kept him more or less in hiding in a theatre he runs. He was pretending he’d hired him to do the cleaning.’
    ‘And who are these mysterious motorcyclists who are out to get him, and beat me up by mistake?’
    Alma shrugs. Norman is dressed by now, and when he speaks, his voice is self-assured: ‘Now it’s my turn to ask a question: who is this Spanish bullshitter who’s messed everything up for us?’
    But like an English gentleman from a Noël Coward comedy, he immediately adds:
    ‘Anyway, you two must have lots to talk about together. A gentleman is someone who instinctively realizes when he’s not wanted. Good-day to you, madam.’
    At which he kisses Alma’s hand, and turns to bow his head slightly to Carvalho. He makes to walk past him, but as he does so, he swiftly punches him in the genitals and then runs out laughing. Carvalho is bent double as the other man clatters down the staircase, shouting: ‘Next time go watch your mother fucking, you queer!’
    Carvalho is trying to get his breath back, seated on the bed. Alma looks at him quizzically, uncertain what to say.
    ‘Did you see anything?’
    ‘Everything and nothing. Don’t worry. By the time we’re forty, everyone has the face and the arse they deserve.’
    Carvalho stares at the rat in its cage.
    ‘Raúl’s partner didn’t tell me the whole truth. Or perhaps he didn’t tell me any of it. Raúl was definitely there, but I wonder what really happened?’
    ‘Roberto is a piece of shit, always was and always will be. Deep down he’s jealous because Raúl and Berta were brilliant.’
    Alma goes over to the bed and sits next to Carvalho. She puts her hand in his jacket pocket and takes out his packet of cigars. Pulls out a cigar, lights it for him, puffs on it, then gives it him. The detective draws deeply on the cigar with obvious pleasure.
    ‘Friends?’
    Alma hesitates at the proposal, but then offers him a hand and a smile.
    ‘Friends.’
    ‘Are we going to help each other?’
    Alma agrees, more tender now.
    ‘We artists are going to help each other. Norman’s not such a bad guy. In spite of the low blow, he’s an artist too. He’s an actor, always playing some role or other. So we artists are going to help each other. Me, Norman, Pignatari.’
    ‘Who’s Pignatari?’
    ‘Perhaps it’s time for you to meet him. But you should also go and see Güelmes, because he has power. He’s almost a minister. He will be one some day’
    A thin, statuesque actor, his face painted white and with slicked-back hair, is cutting off a finger on the stage of a tiny theatre which has never seen better days, is somewhere never chosen for