“I don’t know. I was too stunned,” repeated Gabriela. “My silence must have exasperated Frida. She took a comb and mirror out of her handbag and started freshening her make-up, ignoring me.”
“What did you do then?”
“I got up and went to the door. I was afraid Agustín might have heard voices and would call me to ask what was going on. He must have been asleep because his bedroom light was off.”
“Is that true?” Lahore asked Iñarra.
“Yes, the light was off.” The coldness had returned to Iñarra’s voice.
“When I went back to the living room, Frida was putting her things away in her bag. She told me to think about her offer, smiling intolerably. I replied in the only way that could irritate her, with silence. She must have felt out of sorts because she went very pale and, taking the glass of whisky on the side table, drank it in one gulp.
“All of a sudden, I saw her grow paler still. She raised both hands to loosen the silk scarf around her neck, breathing heavily as if she couldn’t get enough air. After that she leant back in the armchair, shooting me a look, like a desperate call for help. Then she took another deep breath and fell back against the chair.
“I rushed to take her pulse. It was barely there. I went to the scullery to get some water. When I came back she’d stopped breathing. I tried to get her to take a sip, but her mouth was rigid and she couldn’t swallow. Her pulse had stopped.
“At that moment, all I could think about was protecting myself and getting her out of my home. I took Frida by the arms and dragged her to the door. There was no one in the hall at that time. I called the lift, put her inside and got in with her. I pressed the button for the sixth floor. When we got there I went to walk back down the stairs.
“That was when I remembered Frida had come into the building at a time when the main door was locked. Did she have a key to Luchter’s apartment too? I opened her bag and saw the key ring. I recognized the main door key and was about to take it off the key ring when I thought I heard someone in the lobby. Without hesitating, I threw the key ring down into the lift shaft and ran downstairs.
“When I got back home, I noticed the glass on the side table. I thought I should wash it to get rid of any fingerprints. While I was rinsing it, I asked myself for the first time, trembling with fear, what had happened. Had Frida committed suicide? Had she had a heart attack? When she was with me she hadn’t behaved like a person desperate enough to kill herself.
“I turned off the tap. The water dripping into the glass was intolerable. I dried it and when I was about to put it back in its place in the cupboard, the light glinting off the glass winked at me in a sinister way.
“I remember all this because when I found out about the poisoning later, something flashed in my mind like the sharp light on that glass.”
Gabriela’s voice cracked. With a gesture of defiance she raised her head and carried on trying to control her trembling voice and hands:
“Then, for the first time, I wondered if Frida Eidinger was really the one who should have been poisoned that night of the 23rd of August.”
“I don’t understand it, Ericourt,” protested Lahore, pacing across the Inspector’s office, “I swear I don’t understand. We’ve finally got a solution to the puzzle and you don’t accept it.”
“A solution? Señora de Iñarra’s confession doesn’t rule out the possibility that Frida Eidinger killed herself.”
“I can’t believe that. Señora de Iñarra poisoned her out of jealousy and then eliminated Czerbó so he wouldn’t turn her in to the police. You’re so cynical! She told us about her relationship with Luchter in front of her husband without batting an eyelid. A woman like that is capable of anything. Even of accusing her husband as she did.”
“It might have been Don Agustín. The blackout he treated me to shows he’s a man able to plan coldly and logically.”
“You’ve got quite a way of complicating things with your deductions!”
“I’ll admit I’m not intuitive,” Ericourt said modestly.
“In my opinion,” Lahore went on, “what we’ve got here are two different crimes. Gabriela de Iñarra knew Frida Eidinger would visit her that night. She might even have invited her in the knowledge that her stepdaughter wouldn’t be home until very late. She must’ve asked Frida to leave Luchter alone and when she refused she went ahead with her plan of the poisoned whisky. Everyone would think it was a suicide when the body was found in the lift. Luchter would keep his relationships with the two women quiet, and anyway, it would’ve been very difficult to prove señora de Iñarra’s involvement. No one would’ve seen Frida enter her home and no one knew about the affair, apart from Czerbó.”
“And then she poisoned Czerbó to throw us off the scent?”
“No, there’s something in the Czerbó case that makes me think señora Iñarra didn’t do it. She would’ve destroyed the note. Whoever is responsible wanted to drag someone else in.”
“And so?” asked Ericourt. His half-closed eyes shone with irony.
“All the neighbours have said Czerbó mistreated his sister. Perhaps she hated him, that’s why she killed him. Señora Eidinger’s death made her think of poisoning. Typical of the mentally weak. Her suicide proves her guilt.”
“And in these shifting sands of hypotheses, what role does the disappearance of Emilio Villalba play?”
“Coincidence.”
“Mention atavism and we’ll have the complete picture of a conclusion which explains none of the events.”
Ericourt took the private investigation folder out of his desk drawer.
“I have made a list,” he said, “of the names of those implicated in this case and their possible motives for the crime. I believe we should call them all here for a reconstruction of the scene of Frida Eidinger’s death, which will take place tonight. I asked the Examining Magistrate for permission, and Dr Corro has granted it. These notes are my version of that column ‘The Value of Hope’ from the horse racing pages.”
He began reading out loud. Not a bit of uncertainty altered the expression on his satisfied face:
AGUSTÍN IÑARRA:
Why might he have murdered Frida Eidinger?
By mistake. He may have wanted to eliminate his own wife out of jealousy.
Is that possible?
Yes and no. He is too helpless a man to do without his wife’s company. Gabriela’s confessions prove that he was not unaware of her relationship with Luchter. Love may lead to a crime of passion in a case like this because the means are of no consequence when it comes to stopping the other person finding happiness elsewhere. Is señor Iñarra so deeply in love?
Could he have killed Czerbó?
Anyone apart from Luchter who had entered Czerbó’s apartment would have had to sneak in via the service entrance. The locks were not forced, so whoever did enter the apartment to kill him did not do so by either door. But what if he had got hold of a key?
Señor Iñarra’s illness makes such a feat implausible.
GABRIELA DE IÑARRA:
Why might she be Frida Eidinger’s murderer?
Jealousy. She might have planned the crime and invited her over.
Could she have killed Czerbó?
This is probable if she did not kill Frida Eidinger.
BEATRIZ IÑARRA:
Why might she have killed Frida Eidinger?
She was determined to ensure her father’s life remain peaceful and Frida constituted the most serious threat to her home. She could have poisoned the whisky. This is unlikely since it was prepared after she left the house.
Could she have killed Czerbó?
Absolutely. She could have climbed up to the Czerbós’s apartment or got hold of a key. She knew what Czerbó was capable of. The similarity between the two murders seems to suggest they were committed by the same person.