The Legacy of the Bones. Dolores Redondo

over his chin as he pondered the information with a wistful expression that made him appear older and more attractive. From afar, the waitress who had accompanied her to the table was standing by the lectern at the entrance, also observing him intently.

      ‘So, what do you think?’

      ‘I think we’re looking at an accomplice, a fourth person who could be the link between these three perpetrators and their crimes.’

      Markina remained silent, his eyes moving between the documents and Amaia. For the first time that evening she was beginning to feel truly at ease. Finally, she saw on Markina’s face that familiar expression, which she frequently encountered on the faces of her colleagues as well as her superiors, when putting forward her arguments: interest, the kind of interest that generated questions, a thorough analysis of the facts and theories that would trigger an investigation. Markina’s eyes grew steelier while he was thinking, his undeniably handsome face acquiring an air of intelligence that she found extremely attractive. She contemplated the perfect outline of his lips, reflecting that it was no surprise that half the female secretaries in the courtroom were vying for his attention. The thought made her smile, breaking Markina’s concentration.

      ‘What’s so funny?’

      ‘Nothing, sorry,’ she said, smiling again. ‘Honestly, it’s nothing … I was just remembering something. It isn’t important.’

      He looked at her, his curiosity piqued.

      ‘That’s the first time I’ve seen you smile.’

      ‘What?’ she replied, slightly taken aback by the observation.

      He continued to stare at her, his expression serious again. She held his gaze for a few seconds then lowered her eyes towards the manila file. She cleared her throat.

      ‘So?’ she said, looking up, in control once more.

      He nodded.

      ‘I think you might be on to something … I’m going to give you my authorisation. But be discreet and keep it low-key: we don’t want the press getting hold of this. Theoretically, these cases are closed, so we need to avoid causing the victims’ families any unnecessary suffering. Keep me abreast of your progress. And if you need anything don’t hesitate to ask me,’ he added, looking straight at her again.

      She didn’t allow herself to be intimidated.

      ‘OK, I’ll take things slowly. I’m working on another case with my team, so there won’t be much to report in the next few days.’

      ‘Whenever you’re ready,’ he replied.

      She started to gather up the various papers spread over the table. Markina reached out and touched her hand for a split second.

      ‘You’ll stay for another coffee, won’t you? …’

      She paused.

      ‘Yes, I have to drive, it’ll keep me awake.’

      He raised his hand to order two coffees, while she hurriedly collected the papers.

      ‘I thought you lived in the old quarter?’

      You’re well informed, your honour, she thought as the waiter brought over their coffees.

      ‘I do, but I have to travel to Baztán because of the investigation I mentioned.’

      ‘You’re from there originally, aren’t you?’

      ‘Yes,’ she replied.

      ‘I’ve heard the food is excellent. Perhaps you could recommend a restaurant …’

      Four or five names instantly came into her head.

      ‘I’m afraid not. The fact is, I seldom go there,’ she lied, ‘and when I do, I tend to eat with my relatives.’

      He smiled in disbelief, raising an eyebrow. Amaia took the opportunity to drink her coffee and put the files back in her bag.

      ‘And now, if you’ll excuse me, your honour, I really must go,’ she said, pushing back her chair.

      Markina rose to his feet.

      ‘Where’s your car?’

      ‘Oh, not far, I’m parked right outside.’

      ‘Wait,’ he said grabbing his coat. ‘I’ll accompany you.’

      ‘There’s no need.’

      ‘I insist.’

      He hovered while the waiter brought his card, then took her coat and held it up for her to put on.

      ‘Thanks,’ she said, snatching it from him, ‘but I never wear it when I’m driving, I find it bothersome,’ she added, her tone making it unclear whether she was referring to the coat or to all Markina’s attentions.

      Markina’s expression clouded slightly as they made their way to the door. She held it open until he caught up with her. The temperature outside was several degrees colder, and the moisture in the air had condensed into mist above the thick cluster of trees in the park. This only occurred in that part of the city, causing the orange light from the streetlamps to form hazy circles in the floating mist.

      They walked out from under the arcades and crossed the street, which was lined with parked cars, although there was little traffic at that time of night. Amaia pressed the remote, and turned to Markina.

      ‘Thank you, your honour, I’ll keep you informed,’ she said, keeping her tone professional.

      But he stepped around her and opened the car door.

      She sighed, trying not to lose her patience.

      ‘Thank you.’

      She flung her coat inside and clambered into the driver’s seat. She was no fool; she had seen what Markina was up to hours ago and was determined to repel all his advances.

      ‘Good night, your honour,’ she said, grabbing the handle to close the door and turning the key in the ignition.