Zig Zag by José Carlos Somoza

were making their way up Claudio Coello, Lopera broke his
silence.
    "You
sure pissed Ric off when he saw you beat him on the entrance exam."
And he burst out with another gurgle-giggle.
    "Really?"
    "God,
yes. He's a sore loser. A very sore loser." Suddenly Lopera's
expression changed. It was as if he'd thought of something else,
something he hadn't considered until right then. "Be careful,"
he added.
    "Of
what?"
    "Of
Ric. Be very careful."
    "Why?
Can he sway the Fields Medal selection committee, so I'll never get
the award?" Lopera ignored her sarcasm.
    "No.
He just doesn't like to lose." He stopped the car. "Is this
your building?"
    "Yeah,
thanks. Hey, listen, why do you say I should be careful? What do you
think he'd do?"
    Instead
of looking at her, he stared straight ahead, as if he were still
driving.
    "Nothing.
I just meant that... he was surprised you came in first, that's all."
    "Because
I'm a girl?" she asked hotly. "Is that it?" Victor
seemed embarrassed.
    "Maybe.
He's not used to ... coming in second." Elisa bit her lip to
keep from answering. Me
either, she
thought. "But don't worry," he added, trying to cheer her
up, or maybe to change the subject. "I'm sure Blanes will
appreciate you. He's too good not to see that you're good."
    That
softened her a little, and she resolved not to hate Lop-era. When she
got to the door of her building, she thought that maybe she'd been
rude to him and turned back around to wave, but he'd already driven
off. She stood there a minute, lost in thought.
    The
scene made her recall the night before, with Javier Maldonado. She
glanced up and down the street, almost as a reflex, but no one was
spying on her. She saw no graying men with big mustaches. Albert
Einstein. Of course! Einstein is Valente's grandfather, and last
night he was spying on me. That must be it.
    She
smiled and walked to the elevator, deciding that it had been a
coincidence. Coincidences were not only possible, they were
mathematically probable. Two men with similar features stare at her
in one night. Why not? You'd have to be paranoid to stress out about
that.
    While
she was riding up to her floor, she thought about Victor Lopera's
weird warning.
    Be
careful of Ric.
    It
was absurd. Valente didn't even know she was alive. He hadn't looked
at her once.

06

    THE date
was set for Saturday afternoon; they were meeting at a cafe she'd
never heard of, near Atocha Street. "You'll like it,"
Maldonado had promised.
    He
was right. It was a relaxed place with dark walls and felt like an
old theater, mainly because of a red velvet curtain hanging next to
the bar. She loved it.
    Maldonado
sat waiting for her at one of the few occupied tables. Elisa couldn't
deny that she was thrilled to see him after the wretched week she'd
had.
    "I
called you a bunch of times yesterday, but the line went dead every
time someone picked up."
    "The
phone wasn't working. It's fixed now, though."
    The
phone company said it was a "systems failure," but, said
Elisa, the one who really had a "systems failure" was her
mother, who had been climbing the walls, her restrained voice
slightly louder than usual as she threatened to sue them for damages
("I have very important clients who call me at home, in case you
didn't realize..."). They assured her they'd send out
technicians that very Saturday, and they'd kept their word. And only
then did Marta Morande" calm down.
    Elisa
ordered a Diet Coke and watched, amused, as Maldonado pulled a stack
of papers from his backpack.
    "More
questions?" she joked.
    "Yeah.
Do you mind?" She told him she didn't as soon as she realized he
was serious. "I know it's a pain in the ass," he
apologized, "but this is what I do, what can I say? And I really
appreciate your helping me out, honestly ... Good journalism is the
product of accurate information, patiently compiled," he recited
in a dignified tone that surprised her.
    "Of
course. I'm sorry..." I screwed
up, she
thought. But Maldonado's shy smile dissipated her fears.
    "No,