Читать книгу The Invisible Guardian - Долорес Редондо, Dolores Redondo - Страница 14

Like the police stations in Pamplona and Tudela, the new Policía Foral station in Elizondo was of a modern design, moving away from the typical architecture of the town and the rest of the valley. It was a truly unique building, characterised by its walls of whitish stone and huge, thick plate-glass windows spread over two rectangular storeys, the second of which overhung the first forming a kind of inverted staircase effect and giving it a certain resemblance to an aircraft carrier. A couple of patrol cars parked under the overhang, the surveillance cameras and the mirrored glass all underlined the building’s purpose. During Amaia’s brief visit to the Elizondo commissioner’s office he had reiterated the same expressions of support and assurances of collaboration that he had already given her the day before, along with the promise of providing every assistance she might need. The high definition photographs didn’t reveal anything they might have missed at the cemetery. The funeral had been well-attended, as they usually were in such circumstances. Entire families, plenty of people Ainhoa had known since her childhood, among whom Amaia recognised a few of her own classmates and old friends from school. All the staff and the head teacher were there, a few local councillors and Ainhoa’s friends and classmates, forming a chorus of tearful girls with their arms around one another. And that was all; no delinquents, no paedophiles, nobody with an outstanding arrest warrant, no solitary man wrapped in a black raincoat, wolfishly licking his lips as the sun glinted off his canines. She tossed the mountain of photos onto the table with a look of disgust thinking how often this job could be so frustrating and disheartening.

‘Carla Huarte’s parents didn’t attend the funeral or the burial, and they weren’t at the reception at Ainhoa’s home afterwards,’ remarked Montes.

‘Is that strange?’ asked Iriarte.

‘Well, it’s unexpected; the families knew each other, if only by sight, and keeping in mind that and the circumstances of the girls’ deaths …’

‘Perhaps it was to avoid fuelling any gossip; let’s not forget that they’ve believed Miguel Ángel to be their daughter’s killer all this time … It must be hard to accept that we don’t have the killer and, furthermore, that he’s going to be released from prison.’

‘You could be right,’ admitted Iriarte.

‘Jonan, what can you tell me about Ainhoa’s family?’ asked Amaia.

‘After the funeral almost all the mourners went back to their home. The parents were very upset but quite calm, supporting one another. They held hands the whole time and didn’t let go even for an instant. It was hardest for the boy; it was painful to see him, sitting on a chair all by himself, looking at the floor, receiving everyone’s condolences without his parents even deigning to look at him. It was a shame.’

‘They blame the boy. Do we know whether he was really at home? Could he have gone to pick his sister up?’ inquired Zabalza.

‘He was at home. Two of his friends were with him the whole time, it looks like they had to do a project for school and then they got absorbed in playing on the PlayStation; one other boy joined them later, a neighbour who dropped in for a game. I’ve also spoken to Ainhoa’s friends. They didn’t stop crying or talking on their mobiles the entire time, a really bizarre combination. They all said the same thing. They spent the evening together in the square and wandering around town, and then they went to a bar on the ground floor of the building where one of them lives. They had a bit to drink, although not very much according to them. Some of them smoke, although Ainhoa didn’t; even so, it would explain why her skin and clothes smelled of tobacco. There was a little gang of boys drinking beer with them, but they all stayed where they were after Ainhoa left; it looks like she was the one with the earliest curfew.’

‘And much good it did her,’ commented Montes.

‘Some parents think that making their daughters come home earlier keeps them safe from danger, when the most important thing is that they don’t come home alone. By making them come home before the rest of the group, they’re the ones putting them at risk.’

‘It’s difficult being a parent,’ murmured Iriarte.