Blood Wedding (16 page)

‘Well, sir – Max, what I understand is that Teniente González got a call from Granada, emphasizing the press interest in the case, and saying it would be good for all concerned if there were a quick result.’ Guevarra ran her hand through her jet-black hair, almost the colour of her eyes. ‘González and León found someone who thought he had seen someone who looked like Hassan Khan on the Jola road just before Leila’s death. They took Hassan Khan in yesterday, and then decided to interview the boy late last night. I heard him crying.’

‘Oh.’

‘León came out, said they had got nothing, but they were sure he was guilty and would try again in the morning before Judge Falcón had to become involved. González ordered the lights in his cell to be turned off. He said something like . . . a night in darkness would help him reflect.’

She paused, and smiled at Max. ‘Nice wine. But I’d better not drink too much or else I’ll fall asleep in the afternoon.’

‘So what happened then?’

‘Well, I came in the next morning. They were both in early. González was in a foul mood.’

‘The González we know and love.’

‘Absolutely. He was swearing like a devil, saying how he was going to beat the truth out of the little Muslim shit.’

‘Really?’

‘They sent me on a daft errand to Banjaron. When I returned . . . well, you know the rest.’

‘Did you see or hear anything? Did he try to escape?’

‘I didn’t. I doubt it, sir. Can’t see how he could have.’

‘So it’s his word against theirs.’

‘I can’t speak out, sir. I have enough problems in the police as it is. And I really need to keep the job. What are you going to do?’

‘Do? Defend the upright police of course. Only pursuing their duty. I don’t know how you put up with González.’

‘Oh, he’s not really that bad. He seems worse when you’re around. It’s almost as if he’s trying to prove something, show you up. He can be quite kind. Sympathetic when my mother died.’

‘Your mother?
Mi abuela
said your parents were Argentinian refugees.’

‘That’s right. They came over after the military coup. Father was arrested, and disappeared. Ended up in the Naval Training School, where he was tortured. He was lucky to escape with his life.’

‘So what happened?’

‘He had been a teacher of one of the guards. They were shooting prisoners, but this guard let him escape. Father’s grandmother was Spanish, so he managed to get into the Spanish embassy, and got asylum in Spain. The family joined him here later.’

‘You must have been born over here then?’

‘I was. It was tough for us at first. Dad couldn’t settle down. Never did. We had a flat in Güejar Sierra.’

‘Pretty place.’

‘Yes, it is. But we never had any money. Getting this job in the police was a real break for me. But then mum got cancer. It was a horrible death.’

Tears came to her eyes. She took out a tissue, wiped her eyes, then ran her hand through her hair.

‘Dad, he’s gone back to Argentina, and I’ve got to get my younger sister through college.’

‘Things can’t be easy for you.’

‘It could be a lot worse. I’ve got a salary and a decent flat in Diva. Oops – it’s three thirty. I mustn’t be late.’

‘You go first. I’ll keep your name out of any report.’

Max watched her leave. Nice swing of the hips. He ordered another coffee. Fifteen minutes later he was back at the police station. González and León had returned.

‘You don’t look much the worse for wear after such a savage assault. How did he do it?’

‘We had to restrain him when he tried to escape. He just lashed out at us.’

‘Hmm. How come he was able to attempt an escape?’

‘We’d let him out to have a coffee.’

‘Okay. Do we really have anything on him for the murder?’

González and León looked at each other.

‘Not yet,’ said González. ‘Our witness wasn’t sure she could identify him. The kid sticks like a leech to the same story. But I just know it’s not true.’

‘True or not, do we have any grounds for asking Judge Falcón to question him, and keep him in for a further forty-eight hours?’

León and González looked at each other again.

‘He had a very public dust-up with Leila on the Friday night. He was definitely in Diva around the time of death, and his only alibi is Javeed Dharwish, who swears that they were both in the Café Al Andaluz until after six o’clock and then went straight back to that centre of theirs. But there’s no corroboration for the time they say they were in the café, so he could have left the café, nipped along the Jola road . . . maybe to apologize after the row . . . met the girl while she was out for a walk . . . they have another fight and she ends up down the ravine with a broken neck.’

‘You mean you can’t come up with anything else? Wouldn’t persuade the judge, would it? Where’s the motive? Where’s the evidence he was at the scene of the crime? Did he call the girl to say he wanted to see her? Where’s the statement that suggests he could be capable of violence against a young woman? It doesn’t stack up.’

‘Hmm.’

‘Look, I’ll try and make a deal with the lawyer. We’ll let the young man go right now in return for bland statements from him and us. We ask the judge to let us hang on to his passport. And he has to sign in regularly.’

‘But I know he’s hiding something,’ said González. ‘With more time, we should get somewhere.’

‘But tough questioning hasn’t produced any results, has it? And from what you say, it isn’t likely to either.’

‘Okay. But mark my words, it’ll be him.’

‘Maybe. Let’s review what we’ve got tomorrow morning. Davila said you want me to go through Leila’s computer. If it’s okay with you I’ll sign out for it, and take it with me back to Granada.’

‘I’ve tried to get into the computer, sir,’ said Guevarra. ‘No joy.’

‘The tech boys in Granada should be able to solve that one.’

There was a knock at the door. The secretary entered. ‘The lawyer and the other gentlemen are back from Motril.’

‘Okay.’ Max looked at González. ‘I’ll deal with this one. It requires some diplomatic skills.’

González snorted. Max left the room. He returned in fifteen minutes.

‘It’s a deal. The lawyer’s no fool, and he knows the score. But it took a lot of persuasion. There will be two press statements, one from us and one from them, pretty much saying the lad panicked, tried to run, and that the two police officers attempted to restrain him. He lashed out, they defended themselves, and in the scrum both Hassan and the officers suffered minor injuries But there was no malice intended on either side. The young man by the way does have a broken rib. So the hospital will keep him overnight for routine check-ups. There will be no charges in return for Hassan’s release on the terms as agreed. You’d better get your report in to Judge Falcón immediately. He’ll have to approve it.’

González and León smiled at each other.

‘See you all tomorrow at ten.’

‘Sí.
And thanks, Max,’ smirked González.

Max just hoped he had done the right thing.

The next morning at ten, they all assembled in the interview room. González made a point of being in charge. He didn’t want his lost authority of yesterday becoming the norm.

‘Okay. What have we got? The Muslim kid’s the guilty one, but there’s no proof. I’ve interviewed every house on the Jola road. The one person who thought he might have seen someone like Hassan Khan failed to identify the kid. Can’t find any other bugger who wasn’t at the beach or asleep. Some are away. One family left for England round about the time of the incident, but I doubt they saw anything. Phew. Still no mobile. It’s hot.’

González paused, and mopped the sweat off his face with a dirty handkerchief.

‘Where was I? Yes, the girl in the Café Al Andaluz confirmed that snooty Arab’s story. And the petrol station confirmed their times. But, apart from that hippy guy the victim seems to have spent the Friday night with, there ain’t no one else in the frame. Me, I think there’s something sexual. Young Hassan didn’t get his rocks off, and lost his cool. León, you’ve been snooping around Capa. Anything?’

‘Absolutely nothing. The locals have noticed the group. But they keep very much to themselves. There are all sorts of rumours of course. It’s a Spanish army camp, training secret agents of Middle Eastern origin to infiltrate the terrorists. Or they are a bunch of terrorists. Or orgies. All very colourful.’

‘Guevarra, you were looking into that doolally community?’

‘Not much, sir. I’ve talked around. There’s a lot of gossip about the girl. A couple of older women felt her father, Ahmed, was too soft with her. Gave her too much freedom. Got a whiff of a scandal – a hint she might have got off with one of the married men in the community. But there’s no definite evidence. And if you push too hard they clam up. They’re all very upset. I actually found most of them very sweet and gentle.’

‘Sweet and gentle? What sort of crap is that? Push this married man lead. Try befriending one of the women, and see if you can get anything.’

‘Yes, sir. But it may be difficult.’

‘Max, anything at the Granada end?’

‘Nothing yet. I’ve handed over all the documents from the guys in Capa, and they’re being checked.’

‘Hmm.’

It soon became obvious González was going to enjoy the next question.

‘I have to ask you this one, Max. Did you screw the girl or did you attempt to?’

‘The answer to both is definitely no.’

‘Okay. This will all have to go on the record of course. Judge Falcón may want to question you.’

‘I have no objections that it’s known I went out with Leila a couple of times.’

‘Right. Anything from the interviews with Max’s family?’

‘I spoke with Don Juan Romero and his wife, Doña Isabel,’ said León. ‘Don Juan is a most respectable man. He had met the girl on various occasions when she came to interview his
abuela.
He fetched her from Diva a couple of times, and gave her lifts back. He met her again when Doña Paula invited her over for a meal. He answered the phone two or three times when she had phoned. Yes, and ran into her in a restaurant in Granada one lunchtime when Leila was there doing her research. There’s nothing whatsoever of interest from Doña Isabel. She was around sometimes when Leila was interviewing Doña Paula, but didn’t get involved in conversations and didn’t give lifts.’

Max blinked. Juan had never mentioned a lunch in Granada.

‘Seems clean as a whistle,’ commented González. ‘But just check on that lunch.’

‘Anything from Doña Paula?’ said González turning to Guevarra.

‘I’ve a massive amount of information, sir. Nearly all of it related to Leila’s research. Leila had offered to look into the disappearance of Antonio Vargas, Doña Paula’s elder brother, in 1937. Doña Paula thinks there may be some connection between the research and her murder. I’ve got all the details on Antonio Vargas’ disappearance. Doña Paula says there are also tapes of conversations between herself and Leila on this and her memories of Diva in the Civil War.’

‘I don’t see how this could be relevant to the investigation. Everybody local already knows what happened here. What do you think, Max?’

‘I haven’t heard that Leila had found out anything new. Even if she had, it’s unlikely to be connected to her death. When I go through her materials, I’ll see if anything is there.’

‘Don’t waste too much time on it. Unlikely to be relevant.’

‘One other thing, sir,’ said Guevarra. ‘Leila had visited the website on ‘the Disappeared’, you know, those who just disappeared in the Civil War. Doña Paula says she is still hoping she might find out something through the web about her brother, Antonio.’

‘Again fail to see the relevance. My grandpa used tell me how he shot El Gato. That’s
mi abuelo’s
lucky horseshoe on the door outside. Had it with him when he shot the bastard.’

Max interrupted. ‘If that’s all, I’d better be getting back to Granada. I’ll go through all the material, and let you know if there is anything of use.’

‘Fine. I’ll want written reports from you all. Judge Falcón needs regular reports for his Auto, his formal record of the case. And with all the press interest, we have to have everything really well documented. Oh, hang on . . . there’s one more thing I was chasing up. It’s the guy she was with the night before she died. I’ve been checking up on the hippies. They had a fiesta down at Felipe’s. Went on to the early hours of the morning. I’ll have to get that bastard’s licence revoked. Leila was there, then went with the hippies to
El Fugón
for a party. Sure to have been lots of drugs. So that’s a lead we’ll explore. Bound to be some Muslims using the Morocco connection to smuggle in drugs. Well, apparently she left with this bloke, Jim. Don’t know if he screwed her or not. He’s gone off on holiday somewhere.’

González paused and guffawed. ‘Holiday! As if all their fucking life wasn’t one long holiday, on someone else’s money. Well, no one seems to know where this bloody Jim is. But I’m told he’ll be back shortly – key player at some fiesta or the other. We’ll take him in for questioning as soon as we have him.’

‘Make sure he doesn’t try to escape,’ said Max drily.

González glowered at him. ‘Time you went.’

As Max left the police station, he stopped and looked at the horseshoe nailed to the door.

A la memoria de
Federico García Lorca
Y todos las victimas
De la Guerra Civil
1936–1939

To the memory of
Federico García Lorca
and all the victims
of the Civil War 1936–1939

Memorial plaque,
Fuente Grande; Ainadamar

(
The Fountain of Tears
)

The following day Max spellchecked his form, and walked upstairs to Davila’s office to hand it in.

‘Good, Max. So what happened in Diva?’

Max summarized the events.

‘Very good, Max. That was handled well. I suppose this makes up for the late submission of your performance report.’

‘Thank you, sir.’

‘At times, Max, I’ve been worried about you – but you’ve come through this well. I think you’re finally getting the idea of teamwork. Always keep everything within the force, and deal with any problems through the . . . um . . . proper channels.’