Luna Tango (36 page)

‘We are not together. We are just friends,' Carlos said quickly.

Hurt, Dani stared into the darkness. Was she so blind and stupid that she'd misinterpreted Carlos's feelings? She swore the recent electricity and bantering they'd shared had meant so much more, even though they'd had a hiccup in Mendoza.

‘I am surprised you are not a couple. There is energy between you two. Interesting—' Roberto coughed into a speckled handkerchief.

‘I'll get you some water,' said Dani, keen to find a moment of solitude. Entering the pensión, she grabbed a glass and filled it with water from the tap. She hung her head and breathed deeply a few times, trying to steady her nerves.

‘You are all right, Dani?'

She turned to find Roberto hunched in the doorway. Rushing forwards, she placed her hand under his elbow. ‘Please, you need to sit.'

‘I have spent too much time sitting in my life. It is very hard to play the bandoneón standing up, yes?' When he laughed his eyes sparkled with youthful cheekiness, briefly covering the dullness of an elderly man.

‘So you've been playing all these years?'

‘I stopped just after I left Argentina but when I established my new persona as a Uruguayan—'

‘That's why you have that accent! I couldn't work it out, now I understand.'

‘I've always been good at mimicking. It comes with being a good listener, which makes me a good musician. I am very good at what I do.' He slid her a wink, not giving the slightest hint of arrogance.

‘I heard you were the best.'

He shrugged. ‘Maybe but that life disappeared the day I lost Louisa. It took me a long time before I could play again but when I did, I realised it was the only way I could feel close to her. And the moon,' he sighed, ‘the moon always brought her back into my heart.'

‘Lunita,' Dani said.

‘Yes. My little moon.' He gazed into the distance, his mind no doubt conjuring up memories smoothed by time and life experience. He shook his head and blinked. ‘But that is the past. Tell me, what scared you just then? The fear in your eyes was deep.'

‘It wasn't fear, it was more ...' What was it? The music and images were so real. She felt every movement as her mother danced. She felt as if she were her grandmother, walking through the streets of 1950s Buenos Aires. She felt the soft violet shoes on her feet. Sighing, she said, ‘I don't know what it was.'

‘Perhaps I can help.'

‘How?'

He took her hand and led her back to the veranda. Carlos sat in the chair, rubbing his leg. The moment he saw her, he removed his hand.

‘Stand here, Dani.' Roberto went to his case and opened it. Glimpsing the battered bandoneón, she craned her neck for a better view—just looking at the instrument sent chills of distaste up her spine. He moved tattered papers out of the way then pulled out an iPod. Dani glanced at Carlos, who raised his eyebrows, just as surprised as she.

Roberto fiddled with the iPod, wheezing and coughing as he did so. A moment later he let out a triumphant ‘Ah!' and handed it to Carlos. ‘When I say play, do so.' Roberto moved to her side. ‘We dance.'

‘Thank you but I'm really not in the mood.'

‘You will feel better. I promise.' He held her hands in the tango pose. ‘I want you to trust me.'

Even though her mind doubted him, she forced herself to let things unfold in the way they were meant to. Roberto nodded at Carlos, who pressed play. Once more Dani's ears filled with the whining bandoneón but no fingernails on a blackboard were present—again. The climb and fall of the notes had a hypnotic effect and she closed her eyes, wary this had been her downfall before.

She sensed Roberto move and she leant to the left, tentatively stepping forwards. The thin skin on his hands made his bones jut out and even though he was frail, a deep energy surrounded him and embraced her. Violins and the piano joined the bandoneón, and although the accompaniments sounded amateur, the music seeped into her soul. The fear that had gripped her melted away, leaving an air of calm, a willingness to let go, a desire to be in the moment. Roberto guided her across the veranda and Dani trusted him without question.

A stone caught under her foot and she stumbled forwards, eyes wide. Carlos jumped up and grabbed her just before she hit the ground face first. Twisting in his arms, she faced him. Concern clouded his handsome features, soon replaced by a smile as he helped her into a standing position. She moved away, his nearness disconcerting.

‘I'm sorry, Roberto,' she said, taking a seat on the rail of the veranda far, far away from Carlos. Roberto sat also, his fragility appearing once again. His breathing became shallow and she asked, ‘Are you okay?'

‘Yes,' he wheezed. ‘I am good.'

‘You don't look so great.' She got up and passed him the glass of water.

He took a long drink, his hand shaking slightly. ‘Why do you resist?'

‘What? The tango? Like I've told Carlos before, I don't have my mother's talent.'

‘It is there, I feel it. You must stop burying your abilities within your worries.' He took another sip. ‘Did you like the music?'

‘It was beautiful.' She chose not to mention that listening to the bandoneón usually made her shudder. ‘Who was that?'

The wrinkles around Roberto's eyes deepened when he grinned. ‘It is me with some friends from the plantation.'

‘What?' Carlos and Dani caught each other's eyes. He had to be her grandfather, otherwise why would every other bandoneón player make her cringe while he sent her on a magical musical journey?

‘It is a good machine, no? I like technology very much.' He reached for the iPod next to Carlos. ‘I have almost every tune I have written on here.'

‘Don't you worry about people discovering who you are?' she asked.

Roberto shook his head. ‘I never recorded when I was Eduardo's protégé so no one can compare my playing. To everyone here,' he swept his arms over the sleeping town of Chapada do Russo, ‘I am a Uruguayan who never took advantage of my talent.'

‘It's sad the world never heard you play,' said Carlos.

Shrugging, Roberto smiled. ‘It is okay. The men at the plantation appreciate my efforts. Dani, I am too old to dwell on past regrets. However, there is one song I have never recorded.'

She leant forwards. ‘Really?'

‘It was a song I wrote for your grandma. I called it “Luna Tango”.'

The sharp trill of Dani's phone pierced the night. She reached into her bag and pulled it out, almost dropping it on the veranda.

‘Yes?'

‘Have you found him?' asked Iris.

‘Yes and—'

‘Good. I've got some news.' She sucked in hard, no doubt taking a long drag on her cigarette. ‘I've had confirmation Diego's gone to the police with the information.'

‘Shit.'

‘The Argentine authorities are investigating his claim.'

‘What?'

‘I'm not surprised. After all, this is the biggest lead they've ever had.'

‘Shit.'

‘Dani, cursing doesn't help.'

‘Sorry.' She felt like a teenager. So this was what it felt like to have a mother? ‘The Argentine authorities are notoriously slow, right? And even if they did urgently contact the Australian Federal Police, who's to say the file won't gather dust in Australia? Or maybe they'll jump on it because they have a good lead. Either way, we need to be careful.'

‘I'm worried but I haven't hit the panic button yet. I've called Stella but she's not answering.'

‘Crap,' said Dani.

‘Your mouth, Dani—'

‘Sorry. We'll return tomorrow, okay?'

‘Will Roberto be with you?' Dani could hear the hope in her mother's voice. She hadn't thought that far ahead.

‘I don't know. If he is, you'll have to call him Lucas Villa. He's being going by that name for years. Call me if you get hold of Stella otherwise I'll see you in BA.'

‘Goodbye, Dani.'

‘Iris?'

‘Yes.'

‘Thank you for looking out for Stella.'

‘It's my pleasure. As the story unfolds, I'm beginning to understand why she did what she did. She and I have a lot to talk about but let's deal with our immediate concerns first.'

The phone went dead and Dani faced the men. Carlos stood and took her shaking hands, his warm, soft skin instantly calming her.

Roberto took a moment then said, ‘I must return to Argentina. I must speak with the authorities. I need to tell them who I am.'

‘But don't you want to meet with Stella—I mean, Louisa? Why can't you meet here, in Brazil? Then you don't have to worry about police or—'

‘It is time, Dani. I have spent too long on the run and I cannot entertain the possibility the authorities could arrest my Louisa.'

They sat in silence, accompanied by a symphony of cicadas. Question upon question raced through her mind but she didn't know where to start.

Clearing his throat, Roberto said, ‘It will be problematic for me to prove who I am. I spent many, many years pretending to be someone else.'

‘DNA will work if Iris is your daughter,' said Carlos.

‘Oh, that's true!' Dani had a strong feeling Iris would not baulk at a request to prove her parentage but she wasn't so sure if anyone was ready to prove anything. ‘Roberto, you going to Argentine authorities and handing yourself in is gallant but it will only be of use if you were the one who killed Eduardo.'

He raised an eyebrow. ‘Do you think your grandma did it?'

‘No! Well, I didn't know her then—Of course not!' Honestly, she had no idea.

‘Please, sit.' He nodded towards the chair. She did so and crossed her legs then uncrossed them. ‘Now is the time for you to learn the truth.'

Dani and Carlos exchanged hopeful glances.

‘How much do you know?' Roberto asked.

‘I read the witness accounts. They believed the alibi Héctor Sosa gave them. He said he was with his mistress the entire night and she backed it up. Then he went on a business trip.'

Roberto took a sip of water and set it down. His eyes closed for a moment, as if gathering strength. ‘Canziani hit me and I fell unconscious. A doctor helped me and I woke in my apartment with Louisa fussing over me.' His dry lips curved into a small smile. ‘Then I fell asleep. When I stirred again she wasn't there and I knew she had gone to see Canziani to speak her mind. She was a feisty girl. She is like this now, yes?'

‘Most definitely.'

‘I am happy. This is one of her best qualities.'

‘It's served her well,' said Dani.

‘It's hereditary.' Carlos winked at her and heat rushed across her cheeks.

‘When I left my apartment to find Louisa, I met him near my place.'

‘Canziani?'

‘Yes. He had a bloody eye and his collarbone was damaged. Lots of blood. So much blood. He'd come looking for me because he thought I had sent Héctor Sosa after him.'

‘Had you?' Dani asked.

He tsked. ‘No, of course not. You know, Louisa and I were friends because we took solace in each other over Canziani's moods. Then we fell in love.' He stared out into the darkness. Shaking his head, he smiled. ‘Sorry, I got lost.'

‘That's okay,' she said, patting his hand. ‘Take your time.'

Roberto squared his shoulders. ‘When Canziani saw me again that same night after we had fought in San Telmo—he was furious about me taking Louisa from him. I demanded he give back my bandoneón and the sheet music.' Roberto's breathing became shallow. ‘He had a gun.'

Dani gasped. She took in the words but their gravity had yet to register.

‘Eduardo, he would never fight with his fists but always used his words to hurt. Although this night he felt the need for a gun. He said my career was dead so I might as well be, too.'

‘What happened?' asked Carlos, his eyes wide.

‘I asked him to calm down but he aimed the gun at my chest. He said if Louisa wouldn't be with him then she could not have my heart and he would blow it to pieces.' He pulled out his handkerchief and wiped his brow. She glanced at the red stains on it and looked away. Her heart beat so loudly she was afraid it would drown his words.

‘I put my head down and I ran at him. I knocked him over and he hit his head on the gutter.' He grimaced. ‘The sound, it was horrible. It stunned him but then I saw the gun on the ground next to him.'

‘What did you do?' Dani and Carlos asked simultaneously.

‘I grabbed it and pointed it at him. He pulled a knife from his jacket, got up and ran at me. He cut my arm and I ...' He covered his brow with a trembling hand.

Dani knelt in front of him. She placed her hand in his. ‘It must have been torture keeping this inside for so many years.'

‘I am fine. You need to know this.' A wheeze rattled his chest.

Her heart went out to him. As she held his hand, she sensed the years of pent-up anger, hurt and tension within.

‘I pointed the gun at his leg and asked him to stop. He did not listen. He would not listen.' His hand shook violently in hers. ‘I kept the gun pointed at his leg but he ran forwards and tripped. He fell, and—and the bullet went in his stomach.' Doubling over, he wept, long and loud. Dani rubbed her hand up and down his spine, his clothes doing a pathetic job of disguising his bony frame.

He straightened, determination flashing in his eyes. ‘The sheet music went everywhere. And the blood, it was on my hands, the road—he was dying. I heard people running towards us so I knew he would get help. I panicked. I picked up the gun, my bandoneón and music, and ran. I must have run fast because no one came forwards to say they'd seen me.'

Breathless, Dani asked, ‘Where did you go?'

‘I tried to find my Louisa. I went to the house of Canziani. I planned to go through the back garden but Héctor Sosa was in the alley. I told him what happened.' He hung his head. ‘I did not think much of it at the time; after all, he was a man I trusted. Like an older brother. I had no reason to think he would lie.'