room.
The doctor was in his late thirties. He dried his hands on paper towels while inspecting Falcon's credentials. They sat. Falcon told him of Sr Vega's death. The doctor pulled up Vega's file on the computer.
'On 5th July this year you had an appointment with Sr Vega,' said Falcon. 'As far as I can tell, that was the only time you saw him this year.'
'It was the only time ever. He was a new patient. His records came to me from Dr Alvarez.'
'His diary showed that he had an appointment with a Dr Diego before he came to you.'
'The notes came from Dr Alvarez. Maybe he saw a Dr Diego and decided that he wasn't right for him.'
'Was there any indication from the consultation or the notes sent to you by Dr Alvarez that Sr Vega was suicidal?'
'He had some hypertension, but nothing catastrophic. He was suffering from anxiety and he described a number of incidents which sounded like classic panic attacks. He assumed the cause was from pressure of work. According to Dr Alvarez's notes he'd been suffering mild anxiety since the beginning of the year, but it wasn't sufficiently serious to prescribe anything.'
'Did Dr Alvarez mention that Sr Vega's wife had an advanced mental illness? She was taking lithium.'
'He didn't, which I presume means he didn't know about it,' said Rodriguez. 'That would certainly have contributed to Sr Vega's stress.'
'Do you know why Sr Vega stopped seeing Dr Alvarez?'
'There's nothing specific in the notes, but I noticed that Dr Alvarez had been recommending some psychological therapy. When I put this to him myself he was very resistant to the idea, so it's possible they had a disagreement about that.'
'So the mild anxiety was probably developing into something more serious and he was hoping for a different approach from you?'
'My approach was to reduce his anxiety with a mild drug and then, when he was feeling more in control, persuade him into some form of therapy.'
'Did he talk about any sleep problems?'
'He mentioned a sleepwalking incident. His wife had woken up at three in the morning to see him leaving the bedroom. When she questioned him about it the next day he had no recollection of it.'
'So he did talk about his wife?'
'When describing that incident, yes, but he also said his wife could not be relied upon because she took sleeping pills. There was something else that had happened, which had convinced him that the sleepwalking had occurred, but he wouldn't be drawn on it,' said Rodriguez. 'It was the first consultation, remember. I thought there would be time to coax things out of him later.'
'Did you think he was a danger to himself?'
'Obviously I didn't. Mental disturbances of the sort he was suffering are not uncommon. I have to make decisions on the basis of a snapshot of a man's life. He was not extremely agitated, nor was he preternaturally calm – those two extremes being indicators of danger.
There was no history of depression. He had come to me from someone else. He seemed to be trying to tackle his problem. He wanted something to reduce his level of anxiety and he didn't want another panic attack. These are all positive signs.'
'It sounds as if he wanted a quick fix. No therapy.'
'Men are more resistant to the idea of discussing their private thoughts or shameful deeds with someone else,' said Rodriguez. 'If their problems can be solved with a pill, so much the better. There are plenty of doctors who believe we are bundles of chemicals and that psychopharmacology is the answer.'
'So, in your opinion, Sr Vega was troubled but not suicidal?'
'It would have been good to have known about his wife,' said Rodriguez. 'If you have pressure at work and no respite at home and possibly no love… that is a situation that can tip a troubled mind into despair.'
Falcon sat wedged into the corner of the car, Ferrera driving. He was already questioning his instincts on day two of the investigation. So far there was no conclusive evidence to support a murder inquiry. The suicide option was looking stronger with every interview. Even if there were no matching fibres from the pillow found under Sr Vega's fingernails that was still only an indicator that somebody else might have been there. It wasn't positive proof.
Ramirez called from the offices of Vega Construcciones to say that Sergei was a legal immigrant and Serrano and Baena now had a photograph and were circulating with it around Santa Clara and the Poligono San Pablo.
The Cabellos lived in the penthouse of a block built in the seventies in the upmarket barrio of El Porvenir, opposite the bingo hall on Calle de Felipe II.
'You're never too rich to play bingo,' said Falcon, as they went up to the apartment where Carmen Ortiz was having a hysterical attack. She was in the bedroom with her husband, who had arrived from Barcelona that morning. The Ortiz children, with Mario between them, were sitting on the sofa, subdued. It was the old man, Sr Cabello, who'd answered the door. He led them into the sitting room. Ferrera knelt down with the children and had them playing and giggling in a matter of moments. Sr Cabello went to find his daughter but returned with his son-in-law. They went into the kitchen.
'She doesn't want to see the bodies,' said the son- in-law.
'They'll be behind a glass panel,' said Falcon. 'They'll look as if they're asleep.'
'I'll go,' said Sr Cabello, composed and determined.
'How is your wife?' asked Falcon.
'Stable, but still in intensive care, unconscious. I'd appreciate it if you could take me to the hospital afterwards.'
Falcon sat in the back of the car with Sr Cabello while Ferrera took on the pre-lunch traffic. The old man rested his worker's hands in his lap and stared straight into the intricacies of Ferrera's pinned-up plait.
'When was the last time you saw Lucia?' asked Falcon.
'We were there for Sunday lunch.'
'With Sr Vega?'
'He came for lunch. He'd been out driving his new car.'
'How was your daughter?'
'I think you already know by now that she was not well. She has not been well since Mario was born,' he said. 'It was never easy to see her in that state, but there was nothing extraordinary about that particular lunch. It was the same as always.'
'I am going to have to ask you some questions which might be painful,' said Falcon. 'You are the closest family and it is only through you that we can begin to understand the domestic situation between your daughter and Sr Vega.'
'Did he kill her?' asked Sr Cabello, turning his wounded eyes on Falcon for the first time.
'We don't know. We're hoping for clarification from the autopsy. Do you think he could have killed her?'
'That man was capable of anything,' said Sr Cabello, with no drama, mere fact.
Falcon waited in silence.
'He was a cold man,' said Sr Cabello, 'a ruthless man, a man that never allowed anyone too close. He never talked about his dead parents, or any member of his family. He did not love my daughter, even before her problems when she was a beautiful young woman… when… when she…'
Sr Cabello closed his eyes to memories, his jaw muscles worked over his grief.
'Were you aware of any difference in your son-in- law's behaviour since the beginning of this year?'
'Only that he was even more withdrawn than usual,' said Sr Cabello. 'Whole meals would pass in silence.'
'Did you remark on it?'
'He said it was work, that he was managing too many projects at once. We didn't believe him. My wife was sure he had a woman somewhere and it had all gone wrong.'
'Why did she think that?'
'No reason. She's a woman. She sees things I don't see. She sensed that the trouble was in the heart and not the head.'
'Was there anything specific that led you to believe that he had a mistress?'
