Betrayed (20 page)

‘But how do we know the cops will deal us in?’

‘We talk to them about it.’ He lifted his phone. ‘Why don’t you meet him? Just a chat. See how you get on.’

Rosie felt a little pressurised but she knew he was right about losing track once they left Spain.

‘What’s the guy like? This inspector mate of yours?’

The prospect of another strident Spaniard in the mix didn’t fill her with confidence. Especially one who had the clout to take over her entire investigation and leave her waiting on the end of a phone line for a press release.

‘He’s like me.’ Javier grinned, blowing out a trail of smoke. ‘Only not so charming.’

‘Yeah. You need to work on that self-belief. But seriously, Javier, what’s he like?’

‘We worked together when I was here many years ago. And as I told you, in theory the Guardia Civil does not handle drugs cases as such. That is the remit of the Policia Nacional. Both forces are separate and they dislike each other intensely. It’s tradition. We used to call the Policia Nacional the
madero
. It means “woodenheads”. So that is the kind of rapport we had with them – none. To be honest, I wouldn’t trust them with this kind of case where nothing is certain or straightforward. So if we speak to my friend Juan, then he can find a way to make the case Guardia Civil business.’

‘How?’

‘Well, for a start, the people who are behind this are UVF – an illegal terrorist organisation. The Guardia Civil have the responsibility for control of national borders and security. They are the anti-terrorist brigade, if you like. They can find a way to make sure that this is their case. Perhaps by saying they were involved because intelligence has come to them that the bus is carrying weapons – explosive devices, even. But you don’t have to worry about how they make it their case. You just have to decide if you want to involve them.’

Rosie nodded, processing his information.

‘And how close are you with your friend these days? How much do you trust him?’

‘We worked together on some big investigations when I was with the Guardia. Then when I left and moved away to become a private detective, I kept in touch with him. I gave him some assistance and good information that helped him crack a major case around four years back, so he owes me a little. I haven’t seen him for a while, but I trust him and he trusts me.’

Rosie looked at Matt whose face said go with it. Adrian gave what seemed to be a nod of approval. But it was ultimately her call.

‘Okay. Let’s meet him and we can talk. See where we go from there. Phone him back, Javier, and let’s see him after dinner.’ She gave him a look. ‘But don’t pressurise me.’

‘As if,’ Javier replied, punching numbers into his mobile.

The champagne had lifted Donna’s spirits just enough to get through the meal in the hotel’s rooftop terrace restaurant. But now, as Eddie was ordering brandies with their coffee, she had to find some excuse to get back to their hotel room so she could phone Andy.

From the moment they’d left Glasgow at five in the morning, she’d been watching her mobile for any texts from him. But nothing. Not even a single one-line answer to say that he understood the situation, that Eddie had simply presented her with a ticket for the match and made the decision for
her. She felt sick throughout the journey, agonising that he had decided to call it a day. Perhaps he thought she was using him and never had any real intentions of leaving Eddie. But she convinced herself he wouldn’t believe that. Not after the last few weeks they’d had, and the promises they’d made to each other. Surely he would understand. But why no answer? After Eddie had given her the ticket, she’d gone straight upstairs to pack, but quickly phoned Andy, hoping to get a word with him. His mobile rang out and she left a short message saying she had to go to Seville for the match, that she’d no choice. She hoped he would understand. When he didn’t get back by the morning, she sent him a furtive text from the bathroom before they left for the bus. But still no reply. It was nearly two days on the road, and still nothing. She couldn’t understand it. She knew that when he finished his shift the night before she left, he had a couple of days off. They’d had plans together. Now, with the humidity in the air and her stomach churning with nerves, she felt uncomfortable and panicky. She excused herself from the table and went to the bathroom.

‘So, this is the life, lads, eh?’ Eddie swirled his brandy around the glass. ‘This is how the big boys roll when they know what they’re doing.’

He raised his glass towards Jimmy and Mitch who responded and clinked glasses with him.

‘Aye,’ Mitch said. ‘Let the good times roll, boss.’

Eddie lit a cigar and sat back, blowing a thick cloud of smoke up to the sky.

‘You guys did a good job the other night, by the way. Psycho told me. That’s what I like to hear. I like my boys to be on the ball; ready to respond as and when they’re needed. You did well.’

Jimmy and Mitch nodded.

‘Where did you dump him?’

‘Just at the Calton. In the street. He wasn’t in very good shape. He was unconscious. Psycho gave him a right tankin’,’ Mitch said.

Eddie glowered from one to the other, scanning their faces in silence for a moment before he spoke.

‘Psycho was doing what he was told,’ he said flatly. Then he snorted with a bit of a snigger. ‘For once, that crazy cunt did what he was fucking told. Thing about Psycho is once he starts he can’t stop. Stuff I’ve seen him do to guys would make your hair stand on end. But that’s what he’s there for.’

Donna came back to the table and sat down, hoping Eddie wouldn’t see through her frozen smile.

‘All right, darlin’?’

‘Just feel a bit hot, Eddie – probably tired after the long journey. I think I might go up to the room and have a lie down.’ She stood up.

Eddie got up and walked away from the table, his arm around her waist.

‘Go and have a wee rest, darlin’. I’ll take the lads for a couple of drinks, see a few of the troops, then I’ll come and help you relax. I’ll not be late.’ He pulled her towards him as he gave her a dirty smile.

CHAPTER TWENTY

Inspector Juan Garcia of the Guardia Civil embraced Javier with a manly back-slapping bear hug, trotting out what sounded to Rosie like a tirade of Spanish expletives, the kind normally reserved for great friends. Rosie watched as Javier prodded Juan’s podgy stomach, grinning as he said something back. It must be a male thing, she thought. You’d never get a woman greeting another woman friend by hugging her and declaring she was a fat bastard.

Javier towered above the stocky policeman, and slung a comradely arm over his shoulder, then turned him towards the table and introduced everyone, again speaking in Spanish.

‘I hope you’re saying only good things about us, Javier. I’m listening,’ Rosie joked.

‘
Por supuesto
, Rosita! Of course!’ He laughed, ruffling her hair, and translated what she’d said to Garcia, who gave a sly smile.

As Garcia shook everyone’s hand, his glance flicked up
and down each of them, sizing them up. He gave Rosie a firm and lingering handshake.

‘
Mucho gusto
, Rosie,’ he said, with the husky voice of someone who smokes at least two packets of cigarettes a day. Hazel eyes fixed her. ‘How you like the beautiful Seville?’

‘I love it, Juan. It’s fantastic,’ Rosie replied, then quickly added almost apologetically, ‘It’s a little noisy with the mad football fans though.’ She waved a hand in the direction of a rowdy crowd in a nearby bar who had spilled outside singing, one of them banging incessantly on a drum.

Garcia shrugged. ‘Is the football. Is no problem for us. They are all the same.’

Rosie shot a told-you-so smile at Javier, who shook his head and pursed his lips in denial.

‘Sit here, Juan.’ Javier motioned him to sit next to Rosie. ‘You wanna beer?’

Garcia nodded and drew a hand over three-day stubble then rubbed his face as though he’d just woken up from an afternoon nap. He pulled a cigarette packet from his top shirt pocket and tugged one out with his teeth, then stuffed the packet back.

‘So you are old friends, Juan,’ Rosie asked, feeling she should take control of the conversation.

Garcia looked at her and hesitated. Rosie inclined her head to Javier.

‘Am I speaking too fast?’

‘I speak English,’ Garcia said lazily. ‘Is not great but I can
understand if you speak slowly. Javier will translate if we have any problems. But yes, the answer is, yes, Javier and I, we are old friends.’ He looked at Javier as though wondering if he’d told Rosie about his former life as a Guardia Civil.

Javier spoke to him in Spanish, and from what Rosie could pick up he was saying that he had told her the history. Garcia nodded, pushing a hand through his shock of thick curly black hair, a bit too long and dated for current trends, Rosie thought. His little beer belly hung over his jeans, and where his denim shirt was open at the neck, she could see some kind of pendant on a thick, short silver chain that was bordering on a choker. He might have been attractive in a macho kind of way back in the eighties, and she guessed he wasn’t the kind of guy who liked taking orders from women.

‘So.’ Garcia drew deeply on the cigarette and held it for a split second before exhaling, hidden behind a cloud of smoke as he spoke. ‘Javier tells me you are trying to …’ He paused … ‘how you say … er … expose … yes, expose some very bad people here.’ He wagged a finger. ‘And very dangerous men, I think.’

Rosie looked at Javier, then at Garcia.

‘Yes. That’s right.’

‘And you want the help of the Guardia to trap these people.’ There was a hint of swagger to his demeanour.

She had agreed with Javier that he tell Garcia the bones of the story, but she didn’t want to give any more detail
away until she could be assured that there would be some mutual cooperation.

‘Yes. I think you know that already,’ she said, deadpan.

It might have been Rosie’s eternal chip on her shoulder, but she felt a little dig of irritation in the way Garcia was speaking to her, as though it was her first big investigation and he was trying to talk her through it. Patronising. She saw Javier glance at her, and was aware that he knew the signs of her cage being rattled. Suddenly he interrupted.

‘Juan. If I could just say, Rosie and myself, and everyone on the team here’ – he waved his hand indicating Matt and Adrian – ‘we have discussed the best way to get the result we want. Which, as you know, benefits us all. We all want to see these bastards behind bars for a very long time, yes? So what we would like’ – he glanced at Rosie – ‘may I?’

Rosie nodded. She was irked that Javier was trampling on her pitch, as she was perfectly capable of putting her point across without his help. But the sensible part of her knew that Garcia, if he was the Spanish macho male he appeared to be, would respond better if it was put to him by Javier – even if he
was
aware that Javier was working for and being instructed by Rosie. It was annoying, but when in Spain, Rosie told herself.

‘We may be in a position to give you the names of the main players,’ Javier said to Juan.

Rosie nodded, assuming that Javier would have already gone through this with Garcia, and the detective had
probably already made up his mind. But she had to play the game.

Garcia took a swig of his beer, then sat the bottle on the table, licking his lips, gazing into the distance for a silent moment.

‘I hope we can assist each other,’ he said finally.

‘By that, Juan, I hope you mean that we will be able to get good access to the operation.’ Rosie couldn’t stop herself.

Garcia flashed her a stern glance then another at Javier.

‘To some extent,’ he said, scratching his stubble. ‘But you are not suggesting you can be part of an official operation by the Guardia Civil, Rosie?’ He raised his eyebrows for emphasis and puffed, a little pompously, then looked away.

Silence. Javier gave Rosie a pleading look, and she sat back. She would let him take it from here. But she had to let Garcia see she was no pushover.

‘No, Juan. What I think Rosie means, and of course we all want, is for us to be given reasonable access to the operation. Not kept in the dark as you usually do with operations like this. We want to be able to play a part in this. We are able to give you names and players, but we need to know that once the bust happens – if it’s successful – that we are the first to know and are able to be on it within seconds. We would need to be tipped off so that we can be there for pictures. Of course, we would be far enough away so as not to interfere with your work.’

Another silence.

‘My bosses will never wear that, Javier. You know that.’

Rosie shifted in her seat. She looked at Matt and Adrian, then glared at Javier.

‘Juan.’ She looked straight at him, trying to control her irritation. ‘We need some solid guarantee of cooperation. We need to be there, or close as we can get. We can help you trap these people. But we need to know we are in.’

Garcia put his head back and sighed as though he was bored.

‘As I said, Rosie. My bosses wouldn’t wear it.’

He stubbed his cigarette out and there was an awkward silence while Garcia stared at the table. Eventually he looked up and spoke, his face straight. ‘But I will be the officer responsible for the controlling of the operation on the ground. Everything goes through me. So they cannot object to something they have no knowledge of.’ His mouth almost cracked a smile. ‘If you get my meaning.’

Rosie looked at Javier who gave her a quit-while-you’reahead wink.

‘Okay.’ She nodded. ‘So let’s talk. I want to run some ideas past you that we have discussed here, and you can tell me if you think they are workable.’

She crossed her legs and was aware of Garcia’s glance roving from her ankles to her chest. He gave Javier a wry smile. She wished she could be a fly on the wall when these two were having a conversation about her alone.

She was about to speak when her mobile rang. She lifted
it impatiently. It was Don. She excused herself, saying she had to take the call.