The Legacy of the Bones
Shortlisted for the CWA International DaggerThe second book in Dolores Redondo’s atmospheric Baztan trilogy, featuring Inspector Amaia Salazar. With masterful storytelling and a detective to rival Sarah Lund, this Spanish bestselling series has taken Europe by storm.IT TAKES JUST ONE WORD TO STIR THE GHOSTS OF THE PASTA year after arresting Jason Medina for the rape and murder of his step-daughter, Detective Inspector Amaia Salazar has one last duty to complete before starting her maternity leave – attending Medina’s trial.When the trial is suddenly called off, Amaia is appalled. But the judge had no choice. Jason Medina has committed suicide, leaving behind a cryptic note addressed to Amaia: the single word ‘Tarttalo’.To unravel the truth behind this obscure reference to Basque mythology, Amaia must return once again to the Baztan valley, her family home and the place where she feels most vulnerable. As the investigation becomes more complicated and more personal, those closest to Amaia will be placed in mortal danger…
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HarperCollinsPublishers
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London SE1 9GF
First published by HarperCollinsPublishers 2016
Copyright © Dolores Redondo 2013
Translation copyright © Nick Caistor and Lorenza GarcÃa 2016
Cover design by Holly Macdonald © HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd 2018
Cover photographs © Shutterstock.com
Dolores Redondo asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work
Originally published in 2013 by Ediciones Destino,
Spain, as Legado en los huesos
A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library
This is entirely a work of fiction. Any references to real people, living or dead, real events, businesses, organizations and localities are intended only to give the fiction a sense of reality and authenticity. All names, characters and incidents are either the product of the authorâs imagination or are used fictitiously, and their resemblance, if any, to real-life counterparts is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books
Ebook Edition © AUGUST 2016 ISBN: 9780008165604
Version: 2018-10-26
For Eduardo, every word.
Has this fellow no feeling of his business?
He sings at grave-making.
William Shakespeare
Often the sepulchre encloses, unawares,
Two hearts in the same coffin.
Alphonse De Lamartine
Pain when inside is stronger
It isnât eased by sharing.
Alejandro Sanz, âSi Hay Diosâ
Contents
Copyright
Dedication
Epigraph
Itxusuria
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Footnotes
Glossary
Acknowledgements
Exclusive extract from Offering to the Storm
If you enjoyed The Legacy of the Bones, read the first book in the Baztan trilogy â¦
About the Author
By the Same Author
Following the line traced by rainwater dripping from the eaves, the grave was easy to find. The figure knelt, fumbling among its clothes for a trowel and a small pick to scrape off the hard surface of the dark soil. It crumbled into soft, moist clods that gave off a rich smell of wood and moss.
A careful scraping of a few centimetres revealed blackened shreds of decayed cloth mixed with the earth.
The figure tugged away the cloth, still recognisable as a cot blanket, to reveal the oilskin enshrouding the body. Only fragments of the rope securing the bundle remained; where it had been pulled tight a deep mark was left on the canvas. Pushing aside the shreds of rope, the figure groped blindly for the edge of the cloth, and could feel it had been wrapped round several times. Tearing at the end of the bundle, the shroud fell open as though cut with a knife.
The baby lay buried face down, cradled in the earth; the bones, like the oilcloth itself, appeared well preserved, although stained by the black earth of Baztán. Stretching out a hand that almost completely covered the tiny form, the figure pressed the babyâs chest further into the earth and pulled the right arm out of its socket. As it came loose, the collarbone snapped with a soft crack. It sounded like a sigh from the tomb, a lament for the sacrilege. Suddenly uneasy, the shadowy figure recoiled and stood up, tucked the bones under its clothes, then cast one last glance at the body before scuffing the soil back into the grave.
The atmosphere in the courthouse was stifling. The damp from rain-soaked overcoats was starting to evaporate, mixing with the breath of the hundreds of people thronging the corridors outside the various courtrooms. Amaia undid her jacket as she greeted Lieutenant Padua, who made his way towards her through the waiting crowd, after speaking briefly to the woman accompanying him and ushering her into the courtroom.
