the arrival of the huntsman.
A few minutes later I heard the sound of two pairs of footsteps lumbering down the stairs and crossing the stone floor towards me. My stomach tightened. These were no priests. Had he sent for the guards to beat me into doing what they wanted, or worse?
But when the guards came into sight they were carrying a long wrapped bundle between them which they dropped with a dull, heavy thud on to the stone floor. The older Jesuit returned behind them and, with a wave of his hand, dismissed the guards, waiting until they had retreated back up the stairs before continuing.
‘Cruz, understand that I am not a gullible old woman or a foolish young one. I cannot be seduced by your pretty tongue. I have been very well trained in rooting out lies. I can look into any man’s eyes and read the truth there. But in your case, I don’t have to. The proof is here. Yet another crime to add to your ever-lengthening list – the crime of murder.’
I stared at him. ‘I haven’t … I’ll admit to the other things, but of murder I am innocent. I swear by all the saints in heaven. I have never killed anyone.’
The Jesuit’s voice became even more measured; I could feel he was taking pleasure in this. This was a man who prided himself on using words, not violence, to eviscerate his victims.
‘How easily one forgets one’s sins. Though I am surprised you have forgotten this particular sin so rapidly, Cruz. After all, it was committed less than a month ago. Silvia, I think you called her. Your method was not very subtle, I admit. There are many men who possess a far greater skill in making a murder look like a natural death such that not even the most suspicious person would think to question it. But then at sea or in that benighted country to the North, who needs subtlety? What is required is certainty, and I am certain, Cruz, you are the man we need.’
‘No, no, you’ve got it all wrong. I didn’t kill Silvia. That idiot Filipe saw a drowned corpse and mistakenly thought it was her, but I’m telling you it wasn’t Silvia, because she isn’t dead. She’s still alive. I never saw that woman before in my life and I certainly didn’t kill her, any more than I killed Silvia.’
‘But how can you swear you don’t know this woman, Cruz? I haven’t shown her to you yet.’
He gestured towards the younger Jesuit who, clamping a hand over his mouth and nose, knelt down and gingerly began to unpeel the cloth that covered the body.
‘No, no,’ I screamed. ‘Don’t unwrap it, I beg you. I’ve seen it once before. I can’t stand it … I tell you it isn’t Silvia. I swear I have no idea who she is.’
‘Come now, Cruz,’ the older priest murmured. ‘It is only fair and just that we should show you of what you stand accused. In fact, I think we should leave her with you for as long as you manage to stay alive here, so that you may grieve properly and say prayers for her soul. I would hate to part two such devoted lovers. I think I will ask the guards to chain her corpse to the pillar facing you. You wouldn’t want her to be swept away by the tide, would you? As the weeks pass and you watch her rot before your eyes, you can be comforted by the thought that soon you will look just as she does. And when the waves finally close over your head, you and your beautiful lover will once again be reunited in the cold embrace of death.’
The younger priest paused in his unwrapping. His eyes were closed and he was swaying and heaving, as if unable to make up his mind whether he was going to faint or vomit. In the end he scrambled madly to his feet and raced across the floor to the archways where he could lean out over the sea, gulping in the fresh air.
The older Jesuit remained unmoved. ‘We will leave you alone now to gaze upon the face of your lover, but we will return before the next high tide to ask for your decision. Perhaps by then you will have realized just how much you might enjoy the benefits of a healthy sea voyage.’
He ripped the cloth from the corpse lying at my feet. I screwed