The Fountains of Silence(48)

“I do,” says Ana, looking up at Daniel. She reaches out and touches his scabbed fist. “But I’m grateful to you for saving Nick.”

“Oh.” Daniel takes a moment to swallow. He’s not sure what to make of the gesture. Ana’s touching him, but she’s speaking of Nick. He looks at her fingers resting upon his hand. “I didn’t save him.”

“That’s not what I heard,” says Ana.

“It wasn’t a fair fight.”

“Life isn’t a fair fight.”

They stand by the car in silence. Echoes of gypsy guitar rhythms climb in the distance. Her sudden expression of quiet sadness—it’s the same look he saw at the embassy, the look that pulled and spoke without speaking.

“Ana, is there some way I can help?”

She gives a soft laugh. “No, se?or. Everything is fine here. But perhaps now you understand that I wasn’t swimming that evening at the hotel. I am allowed to bathe there twice per week.” She looks up at Daniel, full of both sincerity and humiliation. “Do you see? I am so fortunate to work at the Castellana Hilton. I could never jeopardize my job to help you with your project”—she pauses and her voice drops to a whisper—“even though I desperately want to.”

Her hand slides from his. She turns and departs down the dirt path toward the shack.

Daniel stands, watching Ana. As the distance between them grows, his thoughts call silently after her.

Ana, if you desperately want to, then please don’t walk away.





56



Fortune.

Born into, unearned. The mute accomplice of fate that determines futures and carves lines to divide. It’s the word Ben mentioned the very first night, the word that Daniel thinks on during his drive back to Madrid.

Upon his return to the hotel, the lobby feels opulent to Daniel. Too opulent. It’s the way he feels when he returns from the oil fields to their estate in Preston Hollow.

Ben Stahl gives a beckoning wave from the upper lobby. He’s sitting with Paco Lobo.

“Have you two met? Dan, this is Fred Wolf, but everyone calls him Paco Lobo.”

The portly, bald gentleman wears wire-rimmed spectacles and nurses a fat cigar as if it were his last meal. He’s the man that Ana says has adopted a village. Is his village similar to Vallecas?

“I’ve seen you, but we haven’t been introduced. Nice to meet you, sir.”

“Nice to meet you, Daniel. Are you enjoying your stay in Madrid? That is, when Ben isn’t dragging you into brawls.”

“I dragged him outside, but the brawling was all his,” laughs Ben. “Your paws doing okay, Dan?”

“They’re fine.”

Paco Lobo stands. “Well, I’m off. Ben, give some thought to our discussion. This one might be easier than you think. We just need the right team.”

Paco Lobo departs and Ben’s posture eases. He sits back in his chair and reaches into his blazer for cigarettes. The package is empty. He crumples it and tosses it into the ashtray. He runs a nervous hand over the back of his neck and looks across the room. He motions to Lorenza, who is circulating the lobby, selling cigars and cigarettes.

“So, what did you do today?” asks Ben.

“I went to church, gave a good Catholic confession, and then went to Vallecas.”

Lorenza arrives at their chairs. Ben selects a package of cigarettes. “Vallecas, what the hell were you doing out there?” Ben puts a wrinkled bill on Lorenza’s tray. “Thanks, doll face, keep the change.”

“Gracias, se?or,” says Lorenza. Instead of leaving, she hovers nearby.

Ben leans in to Daniel. “I think she likes me.”

“I think she’s eavesdropping,” whispers Daniel.

“Could be.” Ben waits for Lorenza and her red lipstick to saunter off. Once she’s out of earshot, his words come freely. “Don’t tangle with her. She gets away with a lot but there’s a reason. Word from the bird is that her dad’s a Guardia Civil.”

“He is?” Daniel looks off toward Lorenza.

“Keep that between us. Hotel management knows but the employees don’t. Like I said, steer clear of those fire engine lips. You don’t know who she’s flapping them to.”

“Don’t worry, she’s not my type.”

“So, what pulled you out to Vallecas?” Ben repeats.

Daniel hesitates, wondering whether he should tell Ben. After all, Ben’s the one who told him to peel back the layers of Madrid. “Nick gave me directions to Ana’s, the girl here at the hotel. He assured me it was fine to visit.”

“You went to her house? Oh, Dan, people don’t do that here. This isn’t Texas.”

“So I’ve learned. But it worked out okay in the end. I think I got some great shots for the contest.”

Ben’s head lifts from the cloud of cigarette smoke. “Really? I’d like to see those. I might be able to use them. Boy, you’re my kind of guy, Matheson. Most photographers would beg Max Factor to get them onto a movie set. But you head out to Vallecas.” Ben points his cigarette at Daniel. “Intrepid. That’s the perfect word for you. I like it.”

“Thanks. It definitely showed me a face of Spain that I haven’t seen here in Madrid. I’ll take the film to Miguel tomorrow. Say, Ben . . . what do you know about Valley of the Fallen?”