The Case of Lisandra P. Read Online Free

can. She walked across the square and sat on a bench. It was cold. Eva Maria lit a cigarette. She looked up at the window. She looked down at the ground. It must be roughly there that they found the body. The sidewalk was as smooth as if nothing had happened. There was no blood. Nothing. Places keep no trace of the corpses that were once there. Places don’t like memories. Not the slightest dent on the asphalt. Not the slightest little alteration in the concrete. A falling body never causes the earth to move. Eva Maria looked up at the window. She looked down at the ground. From the sixth floor, it would have been a miracle if the girl had survived. Did her face hit first, or her body? Were her limbs dislocated, in a position that would have been impossible when she was alive? Did her hair form a screen? Or did it all mass together on one side, revealing a pallor that in and of itself was enough to place her already among the dead? Was she disfigured? Or was she as beautiful dead as she had been alive? Eva Maria had seen her in their apartment several times, a graceful figure who eluded her gaze, the way she must surely have eluded other patients’ gazes. What was their arrangement? The premises belonged to her as much as to him, of course, except when a patient was coming in, except when a patient was going out. Doctor-patient confidentiality, it was called. Eva Maria thought about the newspaper in the garbage can. It was a pity the same confidentiality didn’t hold true for journalists; it was a pity that anybody could appear as a suspect to the rest of the planet. Only a culprit should be allowed to appear in newspapers. EvaMaria stiffened. A young man, an adolescent, was standing a few feet away, his eyes glued to the ground. He looked up at the window, one hand in his pocket, the other dangling by his side. Eva Maria observed him. Intrigued. If he’d had a different attitude, she might have been suspicious, but his gaze went no farther than this unfortunate back and forth between the window and the ground. After a while, the young man headed over to the building and went in. Eva Maria stood up. Just because you look unhappy doesn’t mean you’re not guilty. Eva Maria followed the young man. She heard his steps in the stairway. He was going up. She went up. He stopped. Sixth floor—she’d suspected as much. A patient. Eva Maria pretended to go by him. The young man was pounding on the fake wooden paneling. How many of them had there already been that day, making this incredulous pilgrimage? Eva Maria turned back.
    â€œAre you looking for someone, young man?”
    â€œI came to see the man who lives here.”
    â€œHe’s not here.”
    The young boy stood there without moving, at a loss. Eva Maria went back down one step. She would like to comfort him. Even if it meant lying.
    â€œCan I help you? I live just above.”
    The young man took his hand out of his pocket. He didn’t seem to know what to do with it. There was something shiny in his palm.
    â€œI came to give him back his keys. He lost them yesterday, in the street, next to . . . next to . . .”
    The young man couldn’t finish his sentence. Eva Maria prompted him.
    â€œNext to the corpse?”
    The young man nodded. Eva Maria tried to stay calm.
    â€œWere you there?”
    The young man looked down.
    â€œMy girlfriend and I found her—it was our first dinner together, just the two of us, I mean; it was strange, but it went well. We were on our way home. I was happy because she took my hand—it was the first time, we weren’t saying much and I thought I was kind of useless. What’s crazy is that I was praying that something would happen, I swear, anything that would slow us up. I was kind of scared to see her to her front door. We’ve never kissed. I mean, there”—he gestured toward his lips—“you see . . . so I wasn’t walking