Chapter 17 #2
“He didn’t. At first we thought the interview that he was doing had run late and he was stuck in traffic.
I mean, he was coming all the way from La Barceloneta…
Perhaps the traffic was so bad that he’d ditched the taxi and taken the metro and that was why he wasn’t picking up, we thought.
” Sandro had started talking fast, his gaze no longer directed to the detectives but lost past some point between the two of them.
He kept touching the gold band he was wearing on his left wrist in some sort of nervous tic.
Sandro’s voice broke. “But then it was clear something had to have happened.”
Luke was confused. This was the point of the interview where he wanted to go hard. Ask Palau about the fact that he’d been able to play Oedipus in Pascual’s place that night. All the success that’d come out of that for Palau meant a more probable extension of the run of the play.
Yet the actor seemed so fragile—so affected by the events.
There was something about the way Sandro spoke about Leonardo…
Could it be more than just the devotion of a younger actor for his colleague?
Luke contemplated the possibility of Sandro being the person Leonardo was seeing.
He dismissed it immediately. The chap was simply too pretty—and too young—for Leonardo.
“We understand this is difficult,” Divya said, always the more sensitive of the two of them. “Can you tell us what happened next?”
“I went to Leo’s dressing room. I had the silly idea that maybe he’d sneaked inside the theater and we’d missed him and we were being absolute drama queens about his not being there, because he was there. But he wasn’t. And I found that dreadful note.” The actor shuddered.
“Do you know who could have left it there? Did you see anything?”
“No, but the window to his camerino was open. I told the police that. Leo never opened that window. The window is old and it was damaged. It’s permanently unlocked, but he wouldn’t actually open it.
Leo said he felt his talent would escape if he did…
Please don’t think he was being ridiculous!
Theater tends to make us all a bit superstitious.
Isabel throws the cards every night before the performance to know how things will go. She’s normally spot-on!”
“I always use the same pair of socks when I fly. I think we can all be a bit irrationally superstitious sometimes.” Divya smiled warmly at Sandro. Luke didn’t know if the socks story was true or she’d just come up with something to put the actor at ease.
“Where does the window in Leonardo’s dressing room look out onto, do you know?” Luke asked, trying to emulate Divya’s attentive manner but not quite achieving her warmth.
“Uh, I think it looks out onto the interior courtyard of the block.”
Luke recalled the dingy dressing room at the Casanova. It was at ground level and its window was big enough for someone to get in and out without much effort. He had a hunch.
“Do you know if the block’s courtyard is one of those that’s also open to the public?” Sol had told him the city had made an effort in the last few years to convert some interior courtyards into public parks and open spaces.
“There’s a community garden,” Palau said. His expression suddenly switched from worried to panicked. “You think someone could have gotten into the camerino and got Leo that way?”
Palau now clutched his golden bracelet and arm around his chest, as if embracing himself.
“It depends. Do you think Leonardo could have got into the theater without someone realizing?” Luke asked the actor.
“I don’t know.” Palau said. “I don’t think so but…”
But they could have got into the dressing room and left the note. Luke made a note to have a look at that block’s interior courtyard. There still was something else that wasn’t adding up.
“You never thought about calling the police when you found the note inside Leonardo’s room?” Luke asked.
Sandro flinched, pursed his lips into a thin line. He exhaled deeply, then he said: “It was the stupid cards.”
“The cards?” Luke wasn’t following.
“One hour before the play, each day, Isabel does her tarot card reading. Then she tells us what will happen. I know it sounds stupid. But a couple of weeks ago she saw someone would be lost in the forest of the play’s words. That night Leo forgot a very crucial line of dialogue.”
Luke was still not following. And even if he was trying to remain respectful, he was also not a believer of divination.
“The night Leo disappeared,” Sandro continued, “Isabel did her reading. She told us she’d seen triumph.
My whole reasoning was: if triumph is upon us nothing bad could have happened to Leo.
Plus Isabel was adamant: the show must go on.
We’d get through the performance first, figure out the rest after it—if Leonardo hadn’t still shown up.
I realize now that was incredibly stupid—and irresponsible. ”
If only Sandro’s eyes didn’t look so hollow and the color hadn’t drained from his face, Luke wouldn’t be so conflicted. He still needed to ask the actor about the extended run of El bano de Edipo but wasn’t sure how to do it without sounding like an absolute arsehole.
Luke breathed, relieved, when Divya took the lead.
“Sandro, we can see that you’re deeply affected by Leo’s disappearance.”
“Of course!” Palau practically screamed.
“I’m afraid that coming here we’d just assumed you’d be pleased about it in some way.”
“Why would you think that?” Sandro grabbed at the turtleneck he was wearing as if he’d been deeply wounded.
“To an outsider it can look like that,” Divya threaded carefully. “You’ve had a wave of media recognition because of your performance the night Leo disappeared. There’s talk about the play running for longer with you as the lead now…”
“Oh, that’s been confirmed actually,” Sandro volunteered.
“It has?” Luke double-checked.
“We heard back from the producers and financing folks this morning.” Sandro’s shoulders sagged, tiredness setting in fast. His tone was almost sad. “The play is a go.”
“Can we congratulate you?” Divya asked and Luke also wondered about it.
“I told them I won’t be available to play Oedipus until we find Leo. I just…” Sandro breathed deeply, closed his eyes for a couple of seconds. “I can’t.”
Luke didn’t know what to believe. Was Sandro Palau truly that affected by Leonardo’s disappearance? Or was it just a matter of pretending he was and taking advantage of the whole situation a few weeks later?
The detectives thanked the actor, who gave them his personal number and begged them to call if they thought of anything else to ask him—or found Pascual.
···
As they walked through the narrow streets toward the beach and the W Hotel there, Divya asked: “Do you think Sandro could be the mystery person Leo was seeing?”
Luke had deemed that possibility too implausible—and obvious. Of course everyone could suspect Pascual was having a fling with a cast member. Next they would probably suspect Pili Garcia.
“Are we also calling him Leo now?” he simply quipped.
“Answer my question.”
Luke reconsidered the possibility of Sandro and Pascual together once again.
Perhaps it was that he’d never been much of a fan of the person they were searching for, but he couldn’t picture the two actors together.
“Isn’t Leonardo like fifteen years older than Sandro?
And have you seen Sandro? I mean, I know neither of us is into men but the chap is beautiful. ”
Divya’s gaze drifted upward. “I think people who are into men consider Leonardo quite gorgeous as well, mate. And I can’t bloody believe you are the one telling me they can’t be together because of the age difference.”
Luke made a dismissive gesture with his hand. “That’s different.”
Divya’s gaze tightened into a razor-thin line. “Why is it different?”
Luke bit his tongue and thought. There was no way of answering that question without sounding like a prejudiced arse.
Divya was right. Shutting off prejudiced arses was precisely one of the reasons he was set on getting the title.
He was tired of people assuming his and Sol’s relationship was just a temporary fling—even if they lived together now—just because of the bloody age gap.
“You’re right,” he told Divya. “Sandro could be Leonardo’s lover. But how do we get to ask him that without sounding like we’re prying?”
Divya smiled. “I think I have an idea.”