At Christmas, Elena would take him to the garden and ask him to look for his present.

He always found something simple.

A book.

A balloon.

A letter.

Never money.

But now he understood that his mother could have used this hiding place for something else as well.

“We have to go to Toledo,” he says.

Lucía took a step towards them.

“Javier, please don’t go.”

He turned around.

“Why?”

She looked at her phone.

“Because Arturo knows you’re looking for the key.”

“Did you tell him?”

“No.”

“So how can he know?”

Lucía swallowed.

“Because this morning, he sent me a photograph.”

She showed him the screen.

Javier saw the image of an old house with a white façade.

He recognized her immediately.

It was the house of Toledo.

Below the photograph was a message.

TELL THEM NOT TO GO. WHAT THEY ARE LOOKING FOR IS NO LONGER THERE.

Javier felt his blood run cold.

“When did you get that?”

“An hour ago.”

Don Ernesto looked at the photograph.

Then he pointed to something near the door.

A man wearing a dark jacket partially appeared in the reflection of a window.

Javier agrandit l’image.

He recognized the face.

It was Arturo Salcedo.

And he had a little metal box in his hand.

CHAPTER 7. THE WOMAN WHO HAD NOT DISAPPEARED

Pilar Cordero had not disappeared.

She had gone into hiding.

And for almost three weeks, she had been waiting for someone to have enough courage to listen to her story.

Javier found out through a message from an unknown number.

It contained only one sentence.

If you want to get back what belonged to your mother, stop looking for the key and look for the woman who opened the chest.

An address was listed underneath.

A small café from Alcalá de Henares.

And an hour.

Eleven thirty in the morning.

Javier showed the message to Don Ernesto.

“It could be a trap.”

The old man nodded.

“That’s precisely why we won’t go alone.”

Before leaving, they went to a police station.

They handed over copies of the documents, threatening messages, and medical reports.

They also explained their suspicions of forgery of signatures and the disappearance of the box.

The police gathered the information and told them what additional documents might be useful.

Javier insisted on recounting the punch he had given his father.

He did not try to hide it.

Don Ernesto listened to him from the next chair.

He doesn’t smile.

But when they came out, he briefly put a hand on his son’s shoulder.

Javier felt this gesture as a small chance.

Not an absolution.

Only a chance.

At twenty past eleven they arrived at the café.

It was a low-key establishment, with wooden tables and a small terrace.

Pilar was sitting at the back.

She wore sunglasses and a beige coat.

When she saw them, she got up.

His eyes filled with tears.

« Ernesto… »

The old man hugged her.

“We thought something had happened to you.”

“I almost got into trouble.”

Javier sat down across from her.

“Why did you hide?”

Pilar took off her glasses.

She had deep dark circles.

“Because I found evidence of what Ricardo had been doing for years.”

She took a USB stick out of her bag.

She put it on the table.

“There are copies of documents, emails and records that I kept before I left.”

Javier watches him.

“Why didn’t you go straight to the police?”

“I was gathering the documents and I was scared. Ricardo started threatening me when he found out that I had made copies. »

Don Ernesto pursed his lips.

“What did you find out about Elena?”

Pilar took a deep breath.

“Before she died, your wife suspected someone of using her money without permission.”

The old man closed his eyes.

Pilar continued.

“She asked me to help her look at some of the transactions.”

“And what did you find?”

“Transfers to companies that had no real activity.”

Javier is pencha en avant.

“Ricardo’s undertakings?”

“Some were linked to him. Others to Arturo. »

Don Ernesto heaved a sigh.

“So you knew.”

Pilar shook her head.

“I knew about some irregularities, but Elena died before we had finished all the checks. Then Ricardo told me that her husband had been informed and that there was nothing more to examine. »

The old man lowered his head.

“He never told me anything.”

“Because he didn’t want you to know.”

Pilar opened a cardboard folder.

She took out a copy of an old letter.

She placed it in front of Javier.

It was handwritten.

He immediately recognized his mother’s handwriting.

My dear Javier,

If you ever read this, it means that I have managed to preserve some of the truth.