The Gilded Seal Read Free

him.
    Elbowing his way through the crush, he came to a narrow
    street and darted up it, past a drunk pissing in one doorway
    and some kids making out in another, the boy’s hand shoved
    awkwardly up the girl’s top. Halfway along, he veered right
    down a side alley where bright banners and wilting fl owers
    hung lazily from low, sagging balconies.
    He skidded to a halt outside a large wooden gate. The sign
    nailed to it indicated that the building was currently being
    renovated by Construción Pedro Alvarez. That meant it was
    empty.
    It only took him a couple of seconds to spring the padlock
    open. He stepped inside and carefully closed the gate behind
    him, finding himself in a small courtyard littered with paint-
    spattered tools and broken terracotta tiles. A dog had fouled
    the large pile of sand immediately to his left.
    In the middle stood a well. He made his way to it. It was
    disused, a black grille over the opening rendering the bucket
    suspended above it purely ornamental. This was as good a
    place as any.
    A match flared in the darkness and he held it to his small
    8 j a m e s
    t w i n i n g
    notebook. The dry paper clutched at the fl ame, drawing it in
    like water, the fire gnawing hungrily at the pages’ pale skin
    until only the charred spine remained. He glanced toward
    the gate. He still had time. Time to leave some clue as to
    what he had discovered before it was too late.
    The knife bit into his palm, the blood welling up through
    the deep gash and then oozing through his fingers, sticky and
    warm. He had barely finished when the gate burst open.
    “ Está allí. Te dijé que le iba a encontrar. ¡Venga! ¡Venga!
    Antes de que se vaya. ” He’s in here. I told you I’d fi nd him.
    Quick! Quick! Before he gets away.
    He looked up and recognized the little boy he had lifted
    above the crowd earlier pointing triumphantly toward him, a
    cruel look in his eyes, blond hair shimmering like fl ames in
    the darkness.
    Five men shot through the doorway, two of them overpow-
    ering him instantly by bending his right arm up behind his
    back and forcing him to his knees.
    “Did you really think you could hide from us, Rafael?”
    came a voice from behind him.
    He didn’t answer, knowing it was pointless.
    “Get him up.”
    The grip on his arm relaxed slightly and he was dragged to
    his feet. A cold, blinding light snapped on. Rafael held his
    other hand up to his face, shielding his eyes. A video camera.
    The sick putas were filming this. They were filming the whole
    thing.
    A shape materialized in front of him, a solid black outline
    silhouetted against the white light’s searing canvas, the world
    suddenly drained of all color. The figure had a hammer in
    one hand and two six-inch masonry nails in the other that he
    had scooped up off the floor. A kaleidoscopic undershirt of
    tattoos disappeared up each sleeve and formed a rounded
    collar where they reappeared just below the neckline of his
    unbuttoned shirt.
    Rafael felt himself being lifted so that his wrists were
    pressed flat against the wall on either side of an open doorway.
    The video operator took up a position so he could get both
    men in the shot.
    t h e g i l d e d s e a l
    9
    “Ready?”
    Outside, Rafael heard muffled cheering and the faint sound
    of women wailing and crying. He knew then that La Mac-
    arena had finally appeared on the adjacent street, glass tears
    of grief at the loss of her only son frozen on to the delicate
    ecstasy of her carved face.
    She was here. She was here for him.

    P A R T I
    Forsake not an old friend;
    for the new is not comparable to him;
    a new friend is as new wine;
    when it is old,
    thou shalt drink it with plea sure.
    Ecclesiasticus 9:10
    C H A P T E R O N E
    DRUMLANRIG CASTLE, SCOTLAND
    18th April— 11:58 a.m.
    As the car drew up, a shaft of light appeared through a
    break in the brooding sky. The castle’s sandstone walls
    glowed under its gentle touch, an unexpected shock of pink
    against the ancient