Silver Nitrate(53)

“Who called you?”

“Alma Montero. I hadn’t heard from her in years, but she phoned me and she said she knew I’d been dabbling with Ewers’s spells and that I must set things right or I’d be sorry.”

“What did she mean by set things right?”

“She wants the film and anything that I own that belonged to Ewers. I always disliked Alma,” Abel said, shaking a finger in the air. “She was loaded, but she was a prickly one, even back then. She hardly let me speak this time and called me names. The filthy mouth on that one.”

“How could she know you were dabbling in spells, or that you had the film?”

“It must have been José,” he muttered as he relaxed his grip on her hand. “Tristán complained so much about seeing his girlfriend the other night that I had to consult José. I had not told him…he sent the talisman with the nails because I said I was casting a spell, but I didn’t specify what kind, just that I might need a little something for protection. He took his time and sent what you saw. When I phoned him and specified we had dubbed the nitrate print, he became upset.”

“Then you lied to us,” Montserrat said. “You didn’t say there was any danger—”

“I didn’t realize there was any danger,” Abel said earnestly. “I thought it through, I tried to remember the sort of things Wilhelm had taught us. It made perfect sense.”

“Why would José tell Alma anything? I thought he was your friend. Does he have something against you?”

“I don’t know. José had money problems a few years ago, and I think Alma helped him out. Maybe he thought he owed her something. It could be she found some other way, too.”

“What other way?”

“Spells, magic.” Abel was nervously palming his jacket. “Do you have a lighter?”

“I don’t smoke. Now tell me what she said exactly.”

Abel took out a cigarette case and placed it on the food court table. He finally produced a lighter and lit the cigarette with a huff. “She said I needed to return all the items that had belonged to Ewers, or I’d be sorry. She accused me of being a thief. I had a right to that bit of film, you know. I directed the damn thing, and I’m no thief. She probably thinks she can hex me, the bitch.”

“Well, did you steal the film from her?”

Abel emphatically shook his head and let the ashes of his cigarette fall on the glossy plastic food court table. “Never.”

“But you did take that book from Clarimonde Bauer.”

“What are you talking about?”

Montserrat produced the mangled copy of The House of Infinite Wisdom and placed it on the table. “This book was meant for Clarimonde. You intercepted it or stole it. He hid a letter for her inside the binding. It was never meant for you.”

“What letter?” Abel said. “If you found something you better hand it over.”

“Tell me how you got hold of that book and that print.”

“I don’t have time for your bullshit!”

He stood up, tugging at his jacket and giving her an irate look. Three teenagers who were munching on fries at a nearby table chuckled.

“The letter is at my apartment and the silver nitrate print is at the Antares vault, so you better watch your language and sit down.”

Abel muttered a curse under his breath, but he sat down and took out a monogrammed handkerchief and dabbed at his forehead.

“The book and the nitrate print were in Wilhelm’s apartment. I wasn’t supposed to take them, but I did. Alma didn’t confiscate the film reels, she destroyed them. This was what I could salvage. If I stole from anyone, I stole from him.”

“So you could cast the spell.”

“I wasn’t thinking about spells back then. I was angry.”

“Because the film collapsed?”

“The film was over, Clarimonde had been cheating on me, the whole of it.”

Abel gave her a weak smile and scooted forward, leaning his elbows against the table. He took a drag.

“I should have known. She helped finance the printing of that book of his when Alma wouldn’t. Clarimonde’s family was in the book business. Alma was getting fed up with Ewers. The film cost so much money, and Ewers kept on with his talk of spells and alchemy, but there were no results. Endless spending, spending. Anyway, Clarimonde financed his stupid book, even printed it in record time. She insisted it was for us. Ewers was a powerful magician, and he was going to do so much for us, one day. I had no idea she was seeing him behind my back, not until José told me about it.”

“What happened next?”

“The weekend Ewers was shot, Clarimonde was in Puebla, visiting friends. Hours after it happened, I heard Alma Montero was seizing film reels and shutting us down. I knew Ewers had a safe in his apartment. We were going to do our dubbing in a couple of weeks, so he was storing the print there. I went to the apartment, found the reel and the book and took them with me. Alma didn’t know, and neither did Clarimonde.”

“You said you did it because you were angry.”

Abel rested a hand flat against the table, then closed it into a fist and smiled wryly. “I didn’t think it was fair I was about to be left without anything. I took the reel because I wanted something. Mementos, right? Everyone wants a memento.”