25
Divine justice
E Palo neighborhood was located in the eastern district of the capital of Malaga, 8.7 km from the city center. At first glance, it was a simple humble neighborhood by the beach, its strong fishing tradition was evident, and part of the economy was focused on gastronomy, just as it was in any coastal area.
The building, where Adriano's grandparents were presumed to live, had a bar next to the entrance. The smell of frying permeated the entire street. I wrinkled my nose and wondered if my suit would pick up the scent.
I rang the doorbell several times in haste. Andrey stood by my side, watching the people gathering on the bar's terrace. A woman's voice responded after a short while.
"Hello?"
"Is Mrs. Carmen there?" I asked.
"Yes, that's me. If you're here to sell something, I'm not interested."
"No, I'm not here to sell anything, I'm Adriano's aunt, your grandson. Could you please open the door? We need to talk."
There were several seconds of uncertainty during which I could imagine Mrs. Carmen debating whether or not to open the door. Finally, the iron gate vibrated, granting us permission to enter.
It was a second floor without an elevator. Fortunately, the stairs were neither too long nor too steep.
The wooden handrail needed a coat of varnish, and the paint was peeling rapidly. Yet, it was clean.
Upon reaching the landing, both 2A and 2B had their doors closed. I rang the bell, but it wasn't working, so I started knocking.
The door cracked open, not fully, just a bit, as a chain held it secure. The woman didn't trust that I was who I said I was.
"Who is it?" she insisted, peeking through with one eye. If I had wanted, I could have broken the chain and ended this nonsense. However, I wanted to do things properly.
"My name is Nikita Koroleva, I am the wife of Romeo, the man who adopted your grandson."
"I know who Romeo is, but I don't know who you are. You rang my bell claiming to be Adriano's aunt and you look nothing like her." I had forgotten that she didn't know that her grandson's father was my brother; I should have introduced myself first as Romeo's wife.
"Well, there are certain things I need to tell you. May we come in?" She looked out as far as the chain would allow and eyed Andrey.
"No, absolutely not. I don't know you, I don't know what you want, and that man looks like he wants to rob me."
The door slammed shut. I exhaled sharply. I pounded on the door persistently. The woman responded from the other side.
"Go away or I'll call the police!"
"We just want to talk, Mrs. Carmen."
"And I told you no! Get out!"
"If you don’t let us in willingly, I recommend you step away from the door... One," I said loudly, "two," I continued, and stepped aside to give Andrey room, who was already assessing the quality and thickness of the door, "and..." I didn’t reach three.
My man kicked the door with a forceful blow. The lock couldn't withstand it.
Mrs. Carmen let out a scream inside the apartment. Nobody from 2A came out to help their neighbor. I entered, ignoring the wood splinters.
"You would have done well to open the door," I murmured, seeing her tremble.
At first glance, the apartment wasn't very spacious. It was presumably about eighty square meters, divided into three rooms, a dining room, a kitchen, and a single bathroom.
The walls were covered in faded wallpaper and many pictures of virgins and saints.
"My husband is about to arrive!" she proclaimed as if that would stop us.
"Better, I was looking forward to meeting you both. As I've told you, I come with the intention to talk." "At least, for now," I thought to myself.
The woman sized me up from head to toe. Ana Maria had made a good choice with my outfit. Today I was dressed soberly, in dark gray pleated trousers matched with an oversized blazer, and a white shirt. Combined with my hair pulled back into a low ponytail and the weapon swinging in my hand, I would say it was intimidating.
The woman seemed on the verge of a heart attack. She clutched her chest and was hyperventilating.
"How about we sit down in the dining room? We will be much more comfortable." Carmen took small steps backward without taking her eyes off my hand. Her floral robe swayed from side to side, unlike her eyes, which remained fixed on the gun. "Don't worry, I'll only use it if absolutely necessary."
We arrived in the dining room, which followed the decorative style of the rest of the house-overloaded and excessively pious. A cabinet full of saints and a gigantic painting of a Virgin caught my eye.
"I see you are very religious."
"Very," she commented shakily. "That thing you're holding is loaded by the devil."
"I came exactly to talk about him. Please, sit down and pour yourself some water, you seem very upset."
Do?a Carmen pulled out a chair and, complying, poured herself a glass of water and took a long drink before setting it down in front of her.
"What do you want?" Her dull, drooping eyes danced between Andrey and me.
"As I said. To talk. Your grandson is my nephew, and although they tried to pin the fatherhood on my husband, I must tell you that the real father is my brother. We did the appropriate paternity tests. Romeo, Yuri, and your daughter were university mates, and their 'friendship' got out of hand." The woman didn't seem taken aback by the revelation. "Aren't you surprised?"
"No. My daughter had a certain ease in spreading her legs. She was possessed by an impure soul that made her a very shameless creature. My husband and I tried to instill the righteous path in her, but it wasn't possible; the devil won that battle. When Adriana told us she was pregnant, it was too late to abort. She refused to give us the father's name, and now that you tell me it was your brother and not Romeo, I understand why she lied in the letter. She preferred to say it was one instead of admitting she had no idea which of the two it was." The woman crossed herself and muttered something under her breath. "We tried to steer her and raise Adriano in the path of God's faith. I hope the boy isn't causing you any problems, you know, the apple doesn't fall far from the tree..." Do?a Carmen continuously rubbed her fingers.
"No, the boy isn't causing any problems. If I've come, it's to understand why your grandson has night terrors. He told me they've been happening since he was little because you told him the devil visited his mother at night and something bad could happen to him if he didn't return to his room." She immediately went on the defensive.
"Children like to make things up. You know how it is..."
"I never got the impression that the boy was lying. In fact, he told me he saw his mother naked, bruised, and bleeding. Are those also inventions? Or was your daughter prone to throwing herself down the stairs, in addition to jumping off the roof?"
I admit that my comment may have been out of place, but I needed to make an impact. Do?a Carmen lifted her head, and to me, she looked like an old turtle.
"My daughter was a sinner, Mrs..."
"Koroleva, Nikita Koroleva."
"I'm not proud to bring our miseries to light. Her actions filled me with shame."
"What actions?"
"She was possessed by the devil; she had relapses, and the cleansings were the only way we knew to restrain her impious soul and atone for her sins."
"I'm going to ask you once more and I'll be very clear so there are no unnecessary detours. What happened at night when the door to Adriana's room was closed and no one could enter?"
"What's going on?! Carmen, who is this woman and why is the door broken?"
Andrey, who was hidden beside a wall clock, emerged to point his gun at the newcomer. Carmen's husband was holding a sports newspaper in his hand. He wore a plaid shirt, his tanned and weathered face suggested he had been toughened by the sun. An anchor tattoo emerged on his forearm, which led me to guess he was a sailor or maybe worked at the port.
"Welcome, Mr. Pe?a. We're having a discussion with your wife. I am Nikita Koroleva, the wife of Romeo. Your grandson is living with us, as you know, and he has night terrors. Carmen was about to tell us why, some nights, the door to your daughter's room was closed and from it came screams and thumps, and she'd wake up bruised. Maybe you can clarify who this infamous demon was that beat your daughter and terrified your grandson."
He looked at his wife in a way that would chill anyone's blood.
"You..." His tone was accusatory.
"I haven't said anything, just that she was possessed and that we did everything possible to steer her right. She says that Adriano's father is not Romeo, but another man, her brother." She pointed at me. "They've done tests to find out who the father is because she was sleeping with both." Do?a Carmen emitted a pitiful sound.
"I don't care who his father is. We raised that spawn of evil without knowing if Satan was inside him. Now they can't give him back to us."
"What do you think, that Adriano is a vase? No one has come to return him. I just want to know who was dispensing divine justice in this house." I slammed the butt of the gun against the table. The man clenched his fists violently.
"Me!" he exclaimed shamelessly. "That Jezebel deserved a correction, always provoking men, showing her lascivious body, swaying like a loose woman. That's why she got pregnant, because the devil had entered her womb and she couldn't control her whore impulses."
We tried to control her, but it was impossible. Every time I found out she had gone back to her wicked ways, it was up to me to steer her right. God knows I tried everything. At first, a priest would come to expiate her guilt, but it happened so often that I had to learn to do it myself. After each cleansing, she would be inactive for weeks, but Satan is too powerful and knew how to spur his servant."
I couldn't believe what this man was saying. His response disgusted me, as did his wife's attitude, who seemed to agree with the beatings.
"Did you know about this?" I needed to make sure, to hear it from her own mouth.
"It was the only way to control her. You don't understand. After the cleansings, it would take her a while to go back to men."
"And she didn't oppose this?"
"She said she had a mental problem, that she was a... ni-ni..."
"Nymphomaniac," the father interjected. "Atheist nonsense. That's the explanation given by those who don't believe in God for someone who has fallen into Lucifer's clutches... Do you know the Bible?" I nodded. "Galatians 5:19-21. 'Now the works of the flesh are manifest, which are these; adultery, fornication, uncleanness, lasciviousness, idolatry, witchcraft, hatred, variance, emulations, wrath, strife, seditions, heresies, envyings, murders, drunkenness, revellings, and such like: of the which I tell you before, as I have also told you in time past, that they which do such things shall not inherit the kingdom of God. For the flesh here is the fallen and corrupt human body, along with all its lusts. This flesh was not created by God, but is a mixture of what God created and sin, which is the life of Satan, the evil one. God created man's body as a clean vessel, but this vessel was corrupted and turned into the flesh at the moment of the fall when Satan, as sin personified, is in the flesh of man, making his home there, and reigning as an unlawful owner, dominating man and forcing him to do what he dislikes.'"
"Amen," concluded the woman, looking adoringly at her husband.
Andrey and I looked at each other in silence. I felt sick to my stomach; these two were indeed sick.
"Is that why your daughter was taking Mentium? To endure the beatings?" I wanted to know. Both glanced at each other. They didn't answer, just held each other's gaze. I aimed the gun at the woman's heart. "What?"
She was startled and screamed her husband's name.
"Leave her!" he ordered, trying to break free from my man to come towards me. Andrey placed the barrel at his temple.
"My boss has asked you a question, answer!"
"We never saw her take those pills. We don't know what could have happened that day. I was at the port, and my wife had gone out shopping. Maybe the devil asked her to jump so he could lie with her in hell."
I was fucking sick of this lunatic's theories. I had heard enough. I thought of the promise I had made to Adriano and all that his mother must have suffered in this house. It was my turn to impart justice, and in this case, it would not be divine.
I stood up and approached him with the gun raised.
"Stay with the woman. Mr. Pe?a and I are going to have a talk with God, see if he'll accept him into his kingdom." The man looked at me uncomprehendingly. "Tell me, which was the room?" I pointed the revolver towards the doors down the hallway.
"I'm not going with you to any room."
"Oh, but you will."
My gun was equipped with a silencer; I aimed at his big toe and fired. Screams echoed through the dining room. Do?a Carmen started crying and I leaned close to the ear of that pig.
"Sometimes, you don't need a demon to unleash hell, just a woman with enough reasons to make you burn in it. And now, walk, or it will be much worse."