The Ambiguity of Murder (12 page)

Lockhart ran into the room, almost colliding with her. He came to a stop, studied her. ‘You sounded to be at the end of your resistance. But there's not a sign of dishevelled clothing. Did you shout too soon?'

‘He's being bloody insulting,' she said furiously.

‘It may not be intentional.'

‘He's accusing me of visiting Guido on my own, just because the two maids said I did.'

‘If that's what they've told him, of course he has to put the possibility to you. All you have to do is laugh at the impossibility.'

‘He thinks all foreigners behave badly.'

‘Clearly a man of propriety.' He spoke to Alvarez. ‘Guido's death has upset her. Not because there was a special relationship between them, but because she takes to heart the solemn warning that any man's death diminishes one. Indeed, a friend has only to suffer and she suffers.'

‘Señor Zavala is not suffering.'

‘That's a heartless thing to say.'

‘Murder is heartless.'

‘But are we talking about murder?'

‘I am certain you have long since realized that his death may not have been an accident.'

‘How easy it is to be certain on other people's behalf.'

‘Therefore I need to know the truth of the relationship between the señora and Señor Zavala because it may be significant.'

‘I've told you, there wasn't any,' she said wildly.

Alvarez said to Lockhart: ‘I understand you frequently take the señora for a drive?'

‘Occasionally I have that pleasure.' Lockhart finally sat.

‘And at times you have taken her to Son Fuyell?'

‘What makes you think that?'

‘The evidence of those who saw you.'

‘Eye-witness evidence is notoriously inaccurate. Why would I do such a thing?'

‘Perhaps for the pleasure of knowing you were helping her to betray her marriage.'

‘How exquisitely perverse!'

‘Tell him that's horrible!' she shouted. ‘Tell him you've never taken me there.'

‘My angel, we have a problem. Policemen have a nasty habit of becoming annoyed if they believe one's lying to them and they start chuntering about perverting the course of justice – as if justice weren't totally perverted from the beginning. I have to admit that the thought of a Spanish jail positively makes me shiver.'

‘God, you're a coward!'

‘I would prefer to say that I was born with a reluctance to sacrifice myself, however noble the cause … Inspector, you are a man of sharp acumen. Therefore, you will appreciate that black is black only when there is no light. I have driven Karen up to Son Fuyell and left her there, but not for the reason that your imagination no doubt suggests. She is a young lady of great vitality who fell in love with and married a man of considerable presence, but who, being of more years, lacks her energy. Sadly, however much one loves and is loved, in such circumstances there can be moments when one feels a need. She confided in me that when talking to Guido at a party, she mentioned her liking of traditional jazz and how Jerome so hates it that she never listens to it at home. Guido told her that he had an extensive collection of early jazz by the masters, rerecorded and digitally cleaned – whatever that means – sounds slightly dubious – and if ever she wished to listen to some of it, he would be delighted for her to do so. Being by nature chaste, she asked me if I would accompany her, a chaperone beyond the possibility of doubt. My reply was unequivocal. Regretfully, I find all jazz so discordant as to be disturbing. My soul craves quiet consent. To have to listen to it for any length of time would be a penance I wasn't prepared to suffer, not even for her sake. But why should she not go on her own? Honi soit qui mal y pense. Those who knew her would never harbour the slightest doubt that she would observe all the proprieties. Were St Ursula and her eleven thousand virgins doubted? She accepted that that was true. And when I used to drive her home, I never had the slightest doubt that my advice had been faultless. So relaxed and cheerful was she, she had me wondering if my dislike of jazz was mistaken. So there is the truth. What do you say?'

‘It is quite a story.'

‘If I knew you better, I could judge whether that was said with a naive or a forked tongue.'

Alvarez turned to Karen: ‘Señora, you visited Son Fuyell several times?'

‘And if I did?'

‘Were you always on your own?'

‘He's just told you why.'

‘Where did Señor Zavala keep his large collection of jazz records – or was it on tape or discs?'

She looked at Lockhart; he examined his fingernails. ‘I … I can't remember.'

‘You have forgotten so quickly?'

‘You're confusing me.'

‘I am sorry; that is certainly not my intention. But when I searched the house, I found no such collection.'

‘I can't help that.'

‘Did you always tell your husband when you were going to see Señor Zavala?'

‘How could I when I didn't know I was? I'd drive off with Theo and mention how bored I was and he'd suggest taking me to Son Fuyell so that I could hear the music.'

‘Why were you bored?'

‘This isn't Monte Carlo, for God's sake.'

‘After you'd visited Son Fuyell, did you always tell your husband where you'd been?'

‘Of course I did.'

‘And he never raised any objections to these visits?'

‘Why should he?'

‘There are husbands who would be disturbed.'

‘We trust each other.'

‘He didn't ask what happened at Son Fuyell?'

‘Nothing happened.'

‘Did you sometimes break off from listening to the music to go down to the pool and have a swim?'

She hesitated. ‘I might have done when it was very hot.'

‘So you always carried a costume with you?'

‘Yes.'

‘But there was at least one time when you didn't bother to wear it, wasn't there?'

‘No. What are you suggesting now?'

‘That you sunbathed, and almost certainly swam, in the nude.'

‘Of course I didn't.'

‘The gardener claims to have seen you by the pool without a costume on.'

‘He's a dirty old man, like Emilio who can't look at me without mentally undressing me.'

‘The gardener is lying?'

‘Yes.'

‘I have to tell you that it will be entirely in your own interests to confirm that that is so since then I will have no reason to question you further and you will be saved any unfortunate embarrassment. Will you be prepared to prove you have been speaking the truth?'

‘Sweetie, don't be rash…' Lockhart began.

‘Of course I will,' she snapped.

‘Then I shall arrange a time that is convenient to both you and the doctor.'

‘Doctor? What's he to do with it?'

‘Lorenzo Frau told me that you had what he described as a birthmark on your buttocks. When a doctor tells me you carry no such mark, I will know Lorenzo is a liar.'

Her expression tightened. She cleared her throat. ‘I…'

‘Yes, señora?'

‘I've just remembered. There was one time when I'd forgotten to take my costume, but it was so hot that I thought just for once it would be all right to swim with nothing on. How was I to know that the beastly man was a Peeping Tom?'

‘So it is you who are the liar, not Lorenzo?'

‘I forgot. I tell you, I forgot.'

‘As you seem to have forgotten that on this occasion Señor Zavala was with you and he also was without clothes.'

‘Theo, you've got to help me,' she cried desperately.

‘Sweetie, mendacem memorem esse oportet or, to paraphrase freely, when a lie threatens to catch up with you, either shake it by the hand or run like hell.'

‘You bastard!'

‘I hope so. My mother always swore her husband fathered me, but through choice I've never believed her.'

She began to cry.

‘Señora,' Alvarez said, concealing his scorn, ‘I am not concerned with the life you choose to lead. But I must know something. Has your husband ever accused you of having an affair with Señor Zavala?'

She shook her head.

‘Even if he has never directly accused you, might he have suspected?'

‘No.'

‘How can you be so certain?'

‘He's so jealous, he'd have created hell … You won't tell him, will you? I swear it didn't mean anything. It's just … Please understand. Jerome's so dull and always moaning he's ill and Guido was so alive and different … Please, don't tell Jerome.'

‘Señora, if there is no cause to do so, I will not.'

‘Oh, God, why did we stay by the pool instead of going up to the house?'

A question, Alvarez thought, which perfectly summed up her character. He stood, said a polite goodbye, left. He had stepped out of the flat into the small square when Lockhart appeared in the doorway. ‘You should display a warning, Inspector. Do not take me at face value.'

Even by the time he reached his car, Alvarez still couldn't be certain whether that had been an insult or a compliment.

CHAPTER 14

Alvarez awoke, but did not open his eyes. When sleep had departed, but reality not fully intervened, a man could float on a cloud above the world and all its troubles … A shout from below brought him crashing down to earth.

‘Enrique, are you ever going to get up?'

Women seemed constitutionally incapable of relaxing and so, because of their selfish natures, made certain men never had the chance to do so.

‘It's after five o'clock.'

Time should not be worshipped; a slave, not a master.

‘If you don't come down right away, there'll be no hot chocolate because I have to go out.'

He climbed off the bed, put on shirt and trousers, went along to the bathroom to wash his face in cold water.

Dolores was standing by the kitchen table, reading a book. ‘If you spend any more time in your bed, you'll grow roots,' she said, without looking up.

‘I had a very stressful morning.'

‘Then you shouldn't have drunk so much at lunch. Alcohol is the worst possible thing for stress.'

‘That's ridiculous!'

‘You are an expert in medical matters; the doctor on television knows nothing?'

‘Doctors, especially on the telly, get bees in their bonnets…'

‘Better than worms in their brains. The chocolate's on the stove. It may have become lumpy because you've taken so long to come down.' She looked up. ‘Aren't you supposed to be back at the post by four-thirty?'

‘The hours are not fixed exactly.'

‘Not by you, that's for certain.' She looked back at the book. ‘There's some coca in the cupboard if you left any yesterday.'

‘But that'll be stale…'

She jerked her head up. ‘So! I am expected to go out every day, no matter how exhausted, to buy fresh coca for my cousin so that when he can find the energy to come downstairs, it is waiting for him?'

‘I thought you made it…'

‘In the heat of the summer, when men find it impossible to do anything but eat, drink, and sleep, I should not only slave all day preparing two full meals, I should also exhaust myself beyond recovery to make you coca because you have too delicate a palate for any that is not fresh?'

He crossed to a cupboard and brought out the triangle of coca on a plate. When in her present mood, it was no good pointing out how illogical and selfish she was being. He put a mug on the table, lifted the saucepan off the stove and filled the mug with hot chocolate. Of course, basically Jaime was at fault. A husband should at the beginning of a marriage make it clear who was boss in the house.

He ate and drank.

‘We have not had Pilotes amb safrà for a long time.' she said suddenly. She shut the book with a snap.

He cheered up. ‘You're going to cook that?'

‘Why should I bother when it would be eaten with careless indifference?'

‘Each mouthful will be sweeter than a maiden's kiss because you are the finest cook on the island.'

‘Because I am fool enough to spend my life in slavery.' But her tone had changed. What he had said was true. ‘I am going shopping. So be certain to lock up.' She picked up her purse and left.

He began to eat the coca. Meatballs could be just an apology for food, yet when Dolores wove her magic over the ground pork, beef, ham, bacon, eggs, onions, garlic, breadcrumbs, lard, lemon juice, parsley, nutmeg, saffron, pepper and salt, they became a Lucullan feast … She was at times irrational, illogical, and very unreasonable, but in all fairness one had to make allowances for the fact that she was a woman. And truly a wonderful cook.

*   *   *

Alvarez had never fully understood the expression ‘blue-rinse lady' until he faced Dolly Selby.

‘It is an impertinence,' she said.

She undoubtedly regarded almost everything as an impertinence, he thought gloomily. Judging by the attempts to camouflage her age, she was probably well past her allotted span and into extra time; her hair was not blue-rinsed, but neither was it naturally coloured and, since she'd left him to stand, he could make out where it was thinning; her nose was beaky, her lips full and moist, but the only passion they suggested was greed; she wore a finca and many good hectares of rich land on her fingers and a manorial house on her over-generous bosom.

A young woman, dressed in a neat, striped maid's frock, came across the lawn of gama grass to where Dolly sat in the shade of an ancient evergreen oak. ‘Señora, a telephone,' she said in fractured English.

‘What's that?'

‘Someone speaks…'

‘I think there is a telephone call for you, señora,' Alvarez said.

‘Thank you, but I am quite capable of understanding … Where's the cordless phone, you stupid girl? Why didn't you bring it with you?'