‘I knew it,’ he said.
Swearing under his breath, Fermín curled up in his corner, as far away as he could get from Salgado. The peace only lasted a minute.
‘My silence has a price,’ Salgado announced.
‘I should have let you die when they brought you back,’ murmured Fermín.
‘As proof of my gratitude I’m prepared to give you a discount,’ said Salgado. ‘All I ask of you is to do me one last favour and I’ll keep your secret.’
‘How do I know it’s the last?’
‘Because you’re going to get caught, just like everyone else who’s tried to leg it out of here, and after they’ve riled you for a few days you’ll be garrotted in the yard, as an edifying sight for the rest of us. And then I won’t be able to ask you for anything else. What do you say? A small favour and my complete cooperation. I give you my word of honour.’
‘Your word of honour? Man, why didn’t you say so before? That changes everything.’
‘Come closer …’
Fermín hesitated for a moment, but told himself he had nothing to lose.
‘I know that son-of-a-bitch Valls has put you up to it, to find out where I’ve hidden the money,’ he said. ‘Don’t bother to deny it.’
Fermín shrugged his shoulders.
‘I want you to tell him,’ Salgado instructed Fermín.
‘Whatever you say, Salgado. Where is the money?’
‘Tell the governor that he must go alone, in person. If anyone goes with him he won’t get a duro out of it. Tell him he must go to the old Vilardell factory in Pueblo Nuevo, behind the graveyard. At midnight. Not before, and not after.’
‘Sounds like an episode from The Phantom, Salgado, one of the bad ones …’
‘Listen carefully. Tell him he must go into the factory and find the old guards’ lodge, next to the textile mill. When he gets there he must knock on the door, and when they ask him who’s there, he must say: “Durruti lives”.’
Fermín chuckled.
‘It’s the most idiotic thing I’ve heard since the governor’s last speech.’
‘You just tell him what I’ve told you.’
‘And how do you know I won’t go there myself? If I follow your cheap melodrama and passwords I could take the money.’
Avarice shone in Salgado’s eyes.
‘Don’t tell me: because I’ll be dead,’ Fermín completed.
Salgado’s reptilian smile spilled over his lips. Fermín studied those eyes, eaten away by his thirst for revenge. He realised then what Salgado was after.
‘It’s a trap, isn’t it?’
Salgado didn’t reply.
‘What if Valls survives? Haven’t you stopped to think what they’ll do to you?’
‘Nothing they haven’t done to me already.’
‘I’d say you’ve got balls, if it wasn’t for the fact that you only have a bit of one left. And if this move of yours doesn’t pan out, you won’t even have that much,’ Fermín suggested.
‘That’s my problem,’ retorted Salgado. ‘So what’s it to be, Monte Cristo? Is it a deal?’