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“Good afternoon, Miss Torres, I’m Detective Sergeant Pizarro, and this is Detective Diaz,” Pizarro introduced himself and his partner as they entered the private hospital room Sofia Torres had been placed in. “We’d like to talk to you about the events that took place at the Abrantes’ estate yesterday morning.” He collected a chair from the corner of the room and moved it to by the bed so he could sit. “I hope you don’t mind answering a few questions for us.”
“Do I have a choice?” Sofia asked, uncomfortable with the thought of recounting the previous day’s events, which ran through her mind every time she closed her eyes.
“Of course you have a choice.”
Pizarro’s head snapped around as he asked sharply, “What are you doing here?”
“I’m here to check on the officer on duty here,” Cortez said from the doorway. “And since I’m here, I thought I’d see if Miss Torres is alright.” It amused him that his presence alone was enough to annoy Pizarro. “Is everything okay?” he asked of Sofia.
Sofia was surprised to hear someone ask that with sincerity and was grateful for it. The nurses treated her well, but she could tell that their inquiries were duty rather than genuine interest in her as a person.
“The doctor tells me I’ll be here for a while. How long depends on how well my legs heal. And they want me to see a psychologist because they’re worried about PTSD.” She paused for a moment and then went on, despite it feeling odd to be talking to a complete stranger about her situation, “It wouldn’t be so bad, but I’m stuck here and there’s no-one to talk to. There isn’t even a television to watch. I’m going to be bored out of my mind by the time I get out of here. And I didn’t sleep very well last night. I could smell the smoke and feel the flames burning me again, just like I was back in that room. And I could hear that man again.”
“That’s to be expected,” Cortez said. “I’d be surprised if you were okay after what happened yesterday. If you want someone to talk to, I can stick around for a while. My shift is up now, and I don’t have anything better to do this afternoon.”
“You can’t,” Pizarro said. “Detective Diaz and I need to question Miss Torres about yesterday’s events. Not only that but since she’s a witness in an active investigation it would not be appropriate for you to spend time with her in an unofficial capacity.”
“I’m not involved with the investigation, Francisco, so there’s no problem with me spending time with Miss Torres if I wish to. As for you needing to question her, I can wait outside until you’re done. I’m sure Officer Murrieta will be grateful for some company.”
Without giving Pizarro a chance to protest, or to make any kind of comment at all, Cortez stepped out of the room to find himself a seat for his wait.
A disgruntled look on his face, Pizarro stared at the door, which had swung shut behind Cortez. He had an urge to follow Cortez to argue the point with him, but Diaz’s impatient shuffling reminded him of why he was there.
“Do you have any objections if we record our conversation with you, Miss Torres?”
“I suppose not. Do I need a lawyer here while you ask your questions?” Sofia asked nervously, her stomach filled with butterflies as she watched Detective Diaz take out a small tape recorder.
“No. We don’t suspect you of any involvement in yesterday’s events, we just want to get your statement about what happened, so there’s no need for a lawyer,” Pizarro said reassuringly.
“Okay.”
Pizarro glanced at his partner to check that he was ready with the tape recorder, and then he got started, “Why don’t we begin with you telling us what happened yesterday, in your own words. We’ll ask whatever questions that come to mind after we’re heard what you have to say.”
Sofia spoke slowly as her mind drifted back to the events of the previous day. “I was in the master bedroom, cleaning, when I heard the gunshots. I wasn’t too concerned, the guards are, were, always doing target practice or shooting at birds. The shots came from the front of the estate, though, not the back, and that made me curious because it wasn’t normal. I went to the window to see what the guards were up to and saw a car out the front of the house. Next to it was three men. I saw two bodies on the ground as well, a couple of the guards. A short distance away was a van. It was still when I first saw it, but then it moved off, heading around the side of the estate. As it did there were more gunshots, lots of them.”
Sofia continued. “I was scared. We all know someone might want to hurt Mr Abrantes, that’s why he had the guards, but we never actually expected anything to happen. I made for the door — I didn’t know where I was going, I just knew I had to get out of there — but when I heard someone coming up the stairs I panicked and hid in the wardrobe. It was Mr Abrantes. I heard him come into the bedroom. He was asking someone how the attackers got through the gates. He was angry and scared. When I realised it was my uncle with Mr Abrantes, I was going to leave the wardrobe, but the gunshots were getting closer, so I stayed where I was and covered myself with clothes...”
“Are you alright, Miss Torres?” Pizarro asked when Sofia fell silent. “Miss Torres?”
It was a few moments before Sofia registered that her name was being called.
“Are you alright?” Pizarro asked when he saw that Sofia was aware of her surroundings again.
“Sorry, I just realised, if I’d left the wardrobe when I heard my uncle, I’d have been killed as well.”
“You did the right thing by hiding. Given the situation, it was the best, and probably the only, thing you could have done. By hiding, you kept yourself alive, and it might turn out that you’re able to give us information that enables us to catch the people responsible for this tragedy.”
“Did anyone else survive?” Sofia thought sadly about the death of her uncle — she couldn’t imagine how he could have survived the carnage in the bedroom, but she hoped he had — and the deaths of the others who had worked at the estate. She hadn’t liked everyone she worked with, but she didn’t think any of them deserved to have been killed.
Pizarro shook his head. “No. An older man was found in an outbuilding. He was alive, but unconscious after a heart attack. Unfortunately, he suffered a second heart attack during the night and died. You’re the only person in a position to help us with the investigation.”
He gave Sofia a few moments to absorb his news and then said, “Do you feel up to continuing? Can you tell us what happened after Mr Abrantes and your uncle entered the bedroom?”
“Mr Abrantes and my uncle, he was head of security at the estate and got me the job there, talked about what they could do, and what could have happened. They were arguing. Mr Abrantes said one of my uncle’s men must have helped them...”
“Helped who?” Pizarro asked, forgetting that he had said he would not ask any questions until Sofia was finished.
“I don’t know, they didn’t say.”
“Okay, go on.”
“The gunfire got closer, and then an explosion came from outside the room, and I hit my head on something in the wardrobe. Right after the explosion I heard some people run into the room, followed by a lot of shooting. I don’t know who was shooting who, but I guess it was my uncle, Mr Abrantes, and whoever else was in the room being shot, because it wasn’t long after that that He came into the room.”
“He? Who is He?”
“I don’t know, I didn’t see him. At least not when he was in the room. I might have seen him by the car, but I don’t know. I did hear him, though. He spoke English when he was talking to Mr Abrantes, I understood that, but he spoke French to whoever was with him, and I didn’t understand that. He told Mr Abrantes that he had already warned him about something. I think he said something about invading his territory. I didn’t understand that. And then Mr Abrantes said something I couldn’t hear, but I did hear him call the man a monster after he said that everyone was dead. The man said something about business and stories, that Mr Abrantes should have listened to the stories. If he had, his family would still be alive.”
As she spoke, Sofia recalled more of the conversation she had overheard.
“The man told Mr Abrantes that he should have killed him in France, but he had believed him about not wanting trouble. He said Mr Abrantes had lied to him, and that meant he had to make an example of him. After that he said something to his men. It was in French, so I don’t know what he said. Then he told Mr Abrantes that this is what happens to people who lie to him. At least that’s what I think he said. I don’t know what happened after that, but it sounded like Mr Abrantes tried to scream.”
Sofia fell silent then as she reached for the glass of water on the table at the side of the bed with a shaking hand. Once she had moistened her throat, she spoke again, “He said something in French and a few moments later I smelled smoke and the wardrobe started to get hot.”
As she thought about the start of the fire an image of the body tied to the bed, which she had seen dimly through the smoke that filled the room, flashed into her mind and she had to force herself not to be sick.
“Are you alright?” Pizarro asked when he saw Sofia go pale and reached for the glass of water again. “Would you like my partner to get a nurse?”
He had spoken to the doctor about Sofia Torres’ condition before coming to see her, so he knew her lungs had been injured by the smoke she had inhaled. She had oxygen on hand to help her breathe and he wondered if that was what she needed, or if she needed something more.
He became more concerned when Sofia began coughing and choking and had to hurriedly set the glass down. When she went red in the face, he hurriedly signalled to Diaz to fetch a nurse, who arrived almost immediately.
“I’m alright,” Sofia gasped, pushing the nurse’s hand away as she tried to place the oxygen mask over her face. “I tried to swallow some water too quickly and it went down wrong,” she said as her chest heaved.
“Would you like to take a break?” Pizarro hoped the answer was no, he wanted to get the interview finished and had only asked out of politeness. There was a lot of pressure on him, thanks to the news reports on the massacre, and he knew that if he didn’t show some progress soon there was a good chance that he would be replaced by someone more senior and more experienced. That would spell the end of his hopes for promotion, at least for the time being.
“No. I’d rather get this over with now,” Sofia said. “The more I have to think about it, the worse it’s going to be. Where did I get up to?” The coughing fit had made her forget.
“You could smell the smoke and the wardrobe started to get hot,” Diaz supplied from his position in the corner of the room.
“Thank you.” It was a few moments before Sofia took up her story again as she gave herself time to recall what had happened. “I think I heard the Frenchman leave, him and the men with him, after the fire started. I wasn’t sure, though, and I didn’t want to leave where I was safe. I stayed in the wardrobe until the heat and the smoke got too much. I don’t know how long I was in there for, I just know the whole room was on fire when I crawled out.”
With halting words, and frequent pauses to moisten her throat, she related everything that had happened from the moment she left the safety of the wardrobe. Everything she could remember at least. She didn’t stop until she reached the point where she had collapsed at the side of the road as she tried to get away from the approaching car.
“I guess you already know what happened after that.”
“Yes,” Pizarro said with a nod. “Mr Perez, the gentleman in the car, called for an ambulance and the police. When he arrived, Sergeant Cortez spoke to you, though I’m not sure if you recall that. You told him about the fire and the dead people, and while you were taken to the hospital, he went looking for the house that was on fire. Why don’t we take a break now,” he said, reluctantly forced to do so by the need for a call of nature. “Detective Diaz and I will get ourselves a drink, and when we get back, we can try and fill in the details of what you saw and heard. As long as you feel up to it that is.”
**
“ARE YOU FINISHED ALREADY?” Cortez asked when Pizarro left the room. “I thought you’d be more thorough, given what’s at stake for you.”
“No, we’re not finished.” Pizarro was surprised to see that Cortez was still there. He had expected him to be long gone. “Enrique and I are getting something to drink while Miss Torres has a short break.”
“In that case I’ll pop in and sit with her till you get back. I imagine she’ll appreciate some conversation that doesn’t involve what happened yesterday.”
Pizarro could think of no reason for keeping Cortez from talking to Sofia Torres, though he would have liked to, and he could only watch with annoyance as Cortez entered the room. Irritated, he turned away after a moment and followed Diaz down the corridor in search of a vending machine.