He Tortured Me for His Sister novel · Chapter 1 of 12
Chapter 1: The Call
My sister-in-law Cristina threw herself from the twenty-fourth floor of the Intriago Tower on a Thursday at seven-fifteen in the evening, and her last call was to my phone.
I didn't answer.
It was in my purse, on silent, while I reviewed balance sheets in my third-floor office.
I saw it forty minutes later, with one missed call and a twenty-three-second voicemail.
By the time I listened to it, the sirens were already wailing below.
Three days later I was sitting in an office at the Judicial Police of Guayaquil, holding a cup of cold coffee between my hands, with a young cop across from me holding a pen.
"Mrs. Intriago."
"Párraga," I corrected. "I use my maiden name."
"Sorry. Mrs. Párraga. According to your sister-in-law's records, you were the last person she called."
"That's what the records say."
"Did you answer?"
"No."
"Did she leave a message?"
I looked at the cup.
"I don't remember."
The cop looked up.
He had an honest face, with pimples on his forehead.
"Ma'am, this is important. There's an open investigation. The prosecutor's office wants to know if Mrs. Cristina Intriago said anything that could explain..."
"I already told you I don't remember."
"Are you sure?"
"Sure."
He jotted something down.
Behind me, in the hallway, there was a dull thud.
I turned my head.
Through the open door I saw my in-laws.
My mother-in-law wore a black dress and her pearls were crooked.
My father-in-law, leaning on his cane, had a shattered face, a gray I'd never seen on him before.
When they saw me, my mother-in-law dropped her purse and sank to her knees on the tile floor.
"Tatiana, dear."
My father-in-law did the same, with a groan, bending one knee and then the other.
They both stayed on their knees in the hallway, in front of the door, while two officers and a secretary stared at them.
"Please," my mother-in-law said, her whole voice trembling. "If Cristina said something to you, even one word... She was our daughter. We need to know why."
"For God's sake, Tatiana," my father-in-law said. "Talk to them."
I looked at them.
They were two old people on their knees, hands clasped, begging like in a church.
And me, standing, I didn't even feel pity.
"I don't know anything," I said.
My mother-in-law brought her hands to her mouth.
My father-in-law closed his eyes.
Marlon, my husband, came out of an adjoining office with the family lawyer.
He wore a black suit, sunken eyes, and three days of stubble.
He stopped when he saw them on the floor.
"Mom. Dad. Get up."
"Son," my mother-in-law said. "Tell her to talk."
Marlon walked over to me.
He took my hand, gently, his fingers cold.
"Tati."
"I'm fine."
"I know this was a blow. For you too."
"Yes."
"Come on. I'll take you home."
He didn't let go of my arm until we left the building, out into the white sunlight of the street.
We got into his truck in silence.
At the traffic light on Nueve de Octubre, Marlon put his hand on my knee.
"Thank you for staying quiet."
I turned to look at him.
"What?"
"I understand you don't want to talk to the police. Neither do I. It's our family." He took a deep breath. "My sister doesn't need to be judged."
I nodded.
I didn't say what I was thinking.
That Cristina Intriago Vera, thirty-five years old, six months pregnant, had left a twenty-three-second message worth more than every question asked that morning.
We got to our apartment in Samborondón at two in the afternoon.
Marlon locked himself in the study to make calls.
I went into the guest bathroom, locked the bolt, turned on the faucet, and sat on the toilet lid with my phone in my hands.
I found the audio.
I'd listened to it forty times.
I listened again.
Cristina's voice came through low, a little hoarse, with the sound of wind in the background.
"Tati, it's me. Marlon doesn't know anything. Mom and Dad forced me to withdraw the report against Darwin. They said it was for the good of the company."
A pause.
The wind.
"Save this. Don't tell anyone until you can prove it. You're the only one who listens to me."
Another pause, longer.
"Take care of Marlon. And forgive me."
A short sob.
"Darwin is going to kill me."
Then nothing.
Twenty-three seconds.
I closed my eyes.
The water from the faucet kept running.
Behind the door, in the hallway, I heard Marlon's footsteps stop.
One second.
Two.
Then they moved away.
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