In Search of Murder--An Inspector Alvarez Mallorcan Mystery (13 page)

‘What do you want to tell me, Carolina?'

‘I don't want to, it's just I think I should.'

‘Because you understand the duty of everyone. I'm afraid you must tell me what you know. Does it concern the late señor?'

‘No.'

‘Then who?'

‘She becomes so upset over so many things, even meaningless ones. Rosalía who is fond of her, noticed she'd become so concerned, she was afraid Marta would worry herself ill. She talked to Marta for a long time to try to find out what was wrong and eventually learned Marta was terrified she'd be arrested and imprisoned.'

‘What on earth could make her think that possible?'

‘You questioned her after the señor died.'

‘I had to, much as I disliked doing so.'

‘She told you she heard the visitor say goodbye to the señor when he was by the pool and then the visitor drove away.'

‘That's correct.'

‘After speaking to you, she began to worry she was wrong.'

‘In what respect?'

‘Because she heard the visitor say goodbye, she expected him to leave immediately. But now she thinks maybe she got it wrong and perhaps she finished the work she was doing before she heard the car leave.'

‘How long would it have taken her to finish the work?'

‘I can't say.'

‘What changed her mind?'

‘She's been so disturbed since the señor died, Rosalía wonders if she's making up the mistake in some way to lessen her sense of shame.'

‘Shame over what?'

‘Perhaps thinking the señor would ever marry her. I don't know. I can only tell you what Rosalía suggested.'

‘What do you think?'

‘As I've said, I don't have an opinion. I'm just a country person, but I've learned not to try to judge what other people will do and think.'

‘Then you have learned more than most. What you've told me means I must have another word with Marta.'

‘If you do, she'll tell Rosalía who'll know I must have spoken to you about this. She'll be so annoyed, she might advise the señora to get rid of me because of my malicious gossip. What I earn here is important because everything has become so expensive and with so many people out of work, I would have terrible trouble trying to find another job.'

‘I'll make certain Rosalía does not know you have spoken to me.'

She hesitated, seemed about to repeat her request, then stood. He accompanied her down to the front door. It was almost
merienda
time, so he walked across to Club Llueso.

‘Given up work for the day?' Roca asked.

‘Taking a breather to rest the brain.'

‘It's still active?'

‘I'll have a café cortado and a coñac.'

‘You do know you can have coffee on its own?'

Alvarez sat at a window table, considered what he had heard, not the people passing outside, a couple of whom were dressed in skirts so short he would normally have noticed them. Since there was no reason to believe Marta had had reason to lie to Rosalía, her later evidence concerning Russell could seem to be acceptable. Yet if her original evidence had been fallacious, had she recovered sufficiently for her altered evidence to be accurate?

Roca brought coffee and coñac to the table. Having put them down, he waited. Alvarez looked up. ‘Something bothering you?'

‘Wondering if you've anything to say.'

‘Such as?'

‘Thank you.'

‘Do I expect to be thanked when all I've done is the job I'm paid to do?'

‘How would you know when you don't do it?' Roca returned behind the bar.

Alvarez drank some of the brandy, poured the remainder into the coffee. When Salas had named Russell to be the likely murderer, if there had been a murder, he had questioned whether a man would murder for the sake of a legacy, generous but not a fortune. That question remained. So did the logical answer – very probably not. But human nature was often governed by emotion rather than logic.

Did he speak to Marta or Rosalía first? Salas had demanded he questioned Russell again, so perhaps the answer was determined. It was satisfying to sort out a problem even when the answer called for more work. He signalled to Roca to bring another coñac. He began to notice the public. A young woman wore a skirt so short that modesty could not be in her vocabulary.

‘Get your eye-balls back in before they fall out,' Roca said, as he put a filled glass of brandy on the table

‘S
eñor Russell is maybe on the beach,' the receptionist at Hotel Tamit said.

‘You've seen him leave?' Alvarez asked.

‘No.'

He could not understand why someone should willingly grill himself. The sun was not there to provide the pain of sunburn, but the pleasure of sitting under a shade umbrella while having a drink. ‘Then would you use the PA system to make certain he isn't still in the hotel.'

‘It's probably not working.'

‘Give it a try.'

The receptionist, with ill grace, swivelled round on his chair and depressed one switch of the ancient apparatus on a shelf behind the desk. He spoke into the microphone and was clearly annoyed when his suggestion of failure was proved wrong as a nearby speaker on the inner wall relayed, in tortured tones, the request for Señor Russell to come to reception.

Russell walked out of the bar, came to a sudden stop when he saw Alvarez; uneasily, he shifted his weight from one leg to the other before he crossed over. Alvarez greeted him.

‘Hullo, inspector,' he said uneasily.

‘I won't bother you for long, just need a brief word or two.'

The lift doors had opened and a blonde (unlikely genuine), hurried across to where they stood. ‘I heard you being called. Is something up?' She studied Alvarez.

‘No need to call for the fire engine. Just met a friend and we need a chat. Go on into the bar and I'll be with you in no time.'

She said, in little-girl tones, ‘I've been told never to drink on my own until I'm twenty-one.'

Alvarez tried to work out how long ago that ban had been imposed.

‘Order a champagne cocktail and tell them it's on my account.' Russell said.

‘If you take too long, I'll become thirsty.' She went into the bar.

A frequent complaint? he wondered. ‘I need a word so can you suggest somewhere quiet where we can go?'

‘Not really.'

‘We'll try the lounge. Doesn't look inviting enough to be overcrowded.'

They sat in the otherwise deserted lounge. A waiter took their orders. Russell's evident worry increased as Alvarez kept the conversation neutral.

The waiter returned, put a lager and a brandy down, spiked the bill. Alvarez drank, replaced the glass on the table. ‘You'll know why I'm here, of course.'

‘I've said all I possibly can.'

‘Then you won't keep the young lady in solitude for long. I imagine you haven't received your legacy yet?'

‘That sort of thing takes for ever.'

‘I don't suppose this hotel costs you much, but experience suggests your companion will expect to be treated generously.'

‘I saved to come out here and chose this hotel because it's cheap and looked much better on the travel agent's brochure. I can just afford a little entertainment.'

‘Why did you come to the island?'

‘I needed a break; by reputation it's a whole lot quieter than Ibiza.'

‘And you're not an all-night reveller. But more to the point, was it because Señor Picare lived here?'

‘No.'

‘You had a meal at Vista Bonita on the first night of your arrival.'

‘Who says I did?'

‘Perhaps you were in a hurry to ask Señor Picare for money.'

‘Certainly not. Even if that were true, what of it? We're related and he had a lot more than he knew what to do with. Why shouldn't he share some of it?'

‘A political question, so I am not equipped to answer. Why have you lied to me?'

‘I haven't.'

‘Not when you mentioned how glad Señor Picare was to see you; how much he enjoyed talking about old times.'

‘He did.'

‘A lie can be given by silence as well as by words. You told me he was by the pool when you said goodbye to each other; you walked to your car and drove off. If that were true, he was still alive when you left and you could have no responsibility for his death.'

‘That's what happened.'

‘Is it?'

‘He asked me to come again and have another meal and what would I like.'

‘Just prior to your departure, there was no such invitation.'

‘Who says?'

‘One of the staff.'

‘Whoever it was is lying.'

‘Why should she?'

‘How the hell do I know?'

‘Señor Picare's bank statements show he drew a fairly large sum the day after you arrived on the island. Did he give you money?'

‘No.'

‘As I have learned, he was far from generous unless he gained a benefit from being so.' It was time for another gamble. ‘I have spoken to the cashier who cashed his cheque. He remembers that the man who handed him a cheque signed by the señor had red hair and the white skin of someone who was only recently on the island. There can be little doubt the cashier will be able to identify the person concerned. I will ask again, was it you?'

Russell picked up his glass and drained it. ‘Look, I'm not a fool. When I heard about Neil's death and you questioned me, I understood I was the last person to see him and if you people knew he had given me some money, it must seem I had something to do with what happened.'

‘Conclusions can be correct as well as obvious.'

‘I didn't … couldn't …' He picked up his glass and went do drink, found it empty.

Alvarez signalled to a waiter.

Their fresh drinks in front of them, he said, ‘Tell me about your last visit to Vista Bonita.'

His hand shaking sufficiently to ripple the level of the whisky he had chosen, Russell raised the glass and drank. ‘When we'd had liqueurs, he said he was going for a swim and I should join him. I told him, one shouldn't go into water within an hour of eating. He laughed at me. It was an old wives' tale, but if I liked to believe it … He said he might be seeing me again, I left. I swear to God, that's true. I don't know what happened afterwards, I wasn't there when he drowned because he scorned the old precept.'

‘Was the luncheon delicious?'

The unexpected question momentarily bewildered Russell.

‘You can't remember what you ate?'

‘I didn't like it.'

‘Why's that? Rosalía was not well?'

‘Who?'

‘The cook. A magician in the kitchen.'

‘Neil said she was good and the dish was one of his favourites. But I don't like pork, especially when it's got something on it and is wrapped in cabbage leaves. I left almost half and that seemed to annoy him.'

With good reason.
Lomo con col
. A favourite Mallorquin dish; when cooked by Rosalía, it would have been memorable. ‘What was the sweet?'

‘He said that was another of his favourites – vanilla ice cream with maple syrup. I hardly had any because ice cream always makes my teeth jump.'

‘For you, an unfortunate meal. What did you do after it?'

‘Went out to the pool patio and had coffee and liqueurs.'

‘What did you choose?'

‘Didn't have any choice. He liked green Chartreuse, so that's what I had to have. Burned my tongue.'

‘A meal made ever more unfortunate. Having suffered, what was your next disaster?'

‘As I said to you already, he said he was going for a swim and I should join him.'

‘Which you did?'

‘Again, as I told you already, it was too soon after we'd eaten. He laughed and said that was a myth. It happens to be one I believe. So, I thanked him for the meal, said goodbye and left.'

‘Where was he when you said goodbye?'

‘I don't know. I'm getting confused with all the questions.'

‘He was by the pool shortly before you drove away. Would you agree?'

‘How can I, when I can't remember clearly?'

‘It would save complications if you could. Unfortunately, I must return to work. Incidentally, I hope you are not thinking of leaving the island in the near future.'

‘How can I when you've got my passport?'

‘With money and the right contact, it would not be difficult to buy another. Alternately, you might tell the British Consul your passport has been stolen and would he issue you with a replacement.'

‘When you'll have made certain he knows mine had been legally taken from me, not lost.'

‘You have experience in such problems?'

‘S
eñor …' Alvarez suddenly stopped mid-flow to put down the receiver and reach across the desk to pick up the burning cigarette which had fallen from the ashtray on to some paper.

‘What is it?'

Salas had spoken sufficiently sharply for Alvarez to guess what had been said even though the receiver still lay on the desk. He hurriedly picked it up. ‘I'm sorry, I had to retrieve the notes I made on my interview.'

‘They should have been ready before you began to phone.'

‘Señor Russell has admitted he went to Vista Bonita on the day Señor Picare drowned and it is clear that he did so in order to ask for money. He was invited to lunch. Although the meal would have been delicious – as you will know,
Lomo con Col
cooked well is a revelation when the meat is tender and the cabbage leaves are neither too crisp or sloppy—'

‘I find it difficult to decide whether you are more interested in food or, regrettably, matters of a sexual nature. I am interested in neither. Why was he asked to lunch?'

‘He is, I understand, some vague relation. Also, the señora was out for the day and it must have been pleasant for Picare to have someone new to talk to. After the meal, the señor said he was going for a swim and Russell should join him. Russell did not because he believed it dangerous to swim too soon after a meal.'