The Invisible Guardian. Dolores Redondo
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‘And here’s the bit that might interest you. Carla’s body turned up in an area about two kilometres from where Ainhoa Elizasu was found. She’d been strangled with parcel string and her clothes had been cut open from top to bottom.’
Amaia looked at Montes in alarm.
‘I remember reading about this case in the papers. Had her pubic area been shaved?’ she asked.
Iriarte looked at Deputy Inspector Zabalza, who replied, ‘The truth is, there wasn’t much of it left; her whole pubic mound had been torn away by what looked like animal bites. The autopsy report mentions tooth marks from at least three different types of animal and hairs from a wild boar, a fox, and possibly a bear.’
‘A bear? Are you serious?’ exclaimed Amaia with an incredulous smile.
‘We’re not one hundred per cent sure, we sent moulds of the tooth marks to the Institute for the Study of Pyrenean Plantigrades. Apparently, since bears walk on all fours with flat feet, they fall under their area of expertise. We haven’t heard back from them yet, but …’
‘What about the little cake?’
‘There wasn’t a little cake … well, maybe there was. That would explain the bites around the pubic area, since the animals would have been attracted by such a sweet, unfamiliar smell.’
‘Were there bite marks elsewhere on the body?’
‘No, although there were some hoof and paw prints.’
‘What about pubic hair arranged around the body?’ asked Amaia.
‘We didn’t find that either, but you should keep in mind that Carla Huarte’s body was found in the river, submerged from her ankles to her thighs, and there had been torrential rain in the days following her disappearance. If there was anything, the rain would have washed it away.’
‘Didn’t you remember this case when you examined the girl yesterday?’ Amaia turned to the forensic scientist.
‘Of course,’ agreed San Martín, ‘but it’s not that simple, they’re only similarities. Do you have any idea how many bodies I see in the space of a year? There are common elements in many cases that are entirely unconnected. Anyway, yes, I did think of this case, but I needed to consult my notes from the autopsy before saying anything. In Carla’s case, everything pointed to a sexual assault by her boyfriend. The girl had alcohol and all kinds of drugs in her system, several love bites on her neck and a bite mark on her chest that matched the boyfriend’s dental imprint. We also found suspicious fragments of skin under her nails that matched a deep scratch on his neck.’
‘Did you find traces of semen?’
‘No.’
‘What did the boy have to say for himself? And what’s his name, by the way?’ asked Montes.
‘He’s called Miguel Ángel de Andrés. He told me he’d been drinking and had also taken cocaine and ecstasy, and I’m inclined to believe him,’ Aguirre smiled. ‘We arrested him on the sixth of January, during the Reyes Magos Epiphany celebrations and he was as high as a kite then, too. He tested positive for four different drugs including cocaine.’
‘So where’s this little treasure now?’ asked Amaia.
‘He was refused bail and is on remand in the prison in Pamplona, awaiting trial for sexual assault and murder … He’s got previous drug-related convictions,’ said Aguirre.
‘I think this calls for a trip to the prison to question Miguel Ángel de Andrés again, don’t you? Perhaps he wasn’t lying when he said he didn’t kill the girl.’
‘Could you give us a copy of Carla Huarte’s autopsy report, Dr San Martín?’asked Montes.
‘Of course.’
‘What we’re most interested in are the photos taken at the scene.’
‘I’ll get them to you ASAP.’
‘And it’s probably worth inspecting the girl’s clothes again now we know what to look for,’ added Amaia.
‘Inspector Iriarte and Deputy Inspector Zabalza are leading the investigation at the station in Elizondo,’ intervened the Commissioner. ‘That’s where you’re from originally, isn’t it, Inspector Salazar?’
Amaia nodded.
‘They’ll give you all the help you need,’ said the Commissioner and he got to his feet, bringing the meeting to an end.
The boy sitting opposite her was slightly hunched over as if he were carrying a heavy load on his shoulders, his hands were resting loosely on his knees, hundreds of tiny red capillaries showed through the skin of his face, and there were deep, dark circles under his eyes. Nothing like the photo Amaia remembered seeing in the papers a month earlier, in which he was posing defiantly next to his car. There was no trace of his former self-assurance or cocky pose and he looked visibly older. When Amaia and Jonan Etxaide entered the interview room, the boy had been staring at a point in the middle distance from which he found it difficult to return.
‘Hello, Miguel Ángel.’
He didn’t answer. He sighed and looked at them in silence.
‘I’m Inspector Salazar and this,’ she gestured to Jonan, ‘is Deputy Inspector Etxaide. We want to talk to you about Carla Huarte.’
He lifted his head and, as if overwhelmed by immense fatigue, muttered, ‘I have nothing to say, everything I have to tell you is in my statement … There’s nothing to add, it’s the truth, there’s nothing to add, I didn’t kill her and that’s a fact, there’s nothing to add, leave me in peace and talk to my lawyer.’
He hung his head again and focused all his attention on his pale, dry hands.
‘Right,’ said Amaia with a sigh, ‘I can see that we haven’t got off to a good start. Let’s try again. I don’t think you killed Carla.’
Miguel Ángel looked up, surprised this time.
‘I think she was alive when you left the mountain, and I think that someone else approached her later and killed her.’
‘That’s …’ Miguel Ángel stammered, ‘that’s what must have happened.’ Fat tears poured down his face as he started to tremble. ‘Yes, that’s what must have happened, because I didn’t kill her, please believe me, I didn’t kill her.’
‘I believe you,’ said Amaia, sliding a packet of paper tissues across the table towards him. ‘I believe you and I’m going to help you get out of here.’
The boy clasped his hands together as if praying.
‘Please, please,’ he muttered.
‘But first, you have to help me,’ she said, almost sweetly. He dried his tears but was still snivelling