The Ambiguity of Murder (21 page)

‘Yes?' said Salas.

‘It's Inspector Alvarez…'

‘Do you announce yourself because you suffer from a mistaken sense of importance?'

‘Only because I can't be certain your secretary has told you who's calling, señor.'

‘Naturally, I have an efficient secretary. Well?'

‘The fax from the Bolivian embassy does appear to confirm a special relationship between Señor Zavala and Algaro, though not based on homosexuality…'

‘Much to your salacious disappointment, no doubt.'

‘Señor, the circumstances being what they were…'

‘Whatever the circumstances, an uncorrupted mind does not choose to leap to a corrupted conclusion.'

‘The facts…'

‘As I suggested, their relationship was always likely to have had a financial basis.'

‘I'm sorry, but I don't remember your saying that.'

‘A good memory is a prerequisite to efficient detection. Which undoubtedly explains why it has taken you over a month to uncover what should have been apparent almost from the beginning.'

‘It's only because I questioned many people, have checked every fact, that Algaro's connection with the case ever came to light…'

‘Excuses denote inefficiency. What do you propose now? Or is it unrealistic to expect you to have considered how to proceed from this point?'

‘I suggest we request the Bolivian authorities to trace Algaro's present address, explaining why we should like to question him.'

‘Naturally that has already been done.'

‘Then for the moment there does not seem to be anything more to do.'

‘A judgement quickly conceived and gratefully accepted?'

‘Señor, it is only Algaro who can answer the unanswered questions…'

Salas cut the connection.

Alvarez settled back in the chair. Dolores was a woman of strong emotions and even stronger will, and she suffered from the female inability of being unable to overcome resentments, even petty ones; but where the family was concerned, she could be weak. If he bought a bunch of flowers on the way home and presented this to her on the excuse that he thought it was Mother's Day and he wished to salute the finest of mothers, would she not be so warmed by his loving thoughtfulness that while lunch could not be changed, supper might be a golden meal?

*   *   *

Supper was a kind of stew; the kind that made those eating it hesitate to identify the contents. And if that were not cruelty enough, she claimed to have forgotten to buy more wine and there was only one bottle between them.

CHAPTER 23

Jaime poured himself another brandy, added ice. He looked carefully in the direction of the bead curtain before he said: ‘Alejo's old woman took it out on him for a whole month after he was caught with the girl from Mestara.'

‘He was a fool to let himself be caught,' Alvarez said.

‘It was bad luck. How could he expect his wife to go out and pick tomatoes in the middle of the afternoon?'

‘Women never do what's expected of 'em.'

‘Suppose … suppose Dolores is so pig-headed that she decides to go on being bloody silly for longer than a month?'

‘She won't. Being caught having a piece on the side is one thing, making a joke about the grub doesn't compare.'

‘Not to you, maybe, but what about her? She's made us starve for a week already. What's to say it won't go on like this for months and months?'

‘You. Tell her to pull herself together and you want decent grub once more.'

‘You can talk real bloody stupid! You think she'd take that from me? It's you who's got to go to her and say how terribly sorry you are that you were such a bloody fool.'

‘Haven't I tried to apologize? Didn't I bring back flowers for the second time yesterday? And what about the box of Belgian chocolates that cost more than three bottles of Soberano?'

‘None of that got anywhere, did it?'

‘Well, there's nothing more I can do. It's up to you.'

‘That's rich, that is! Whose fault was it? Yours!' In his excitement, Jaime raised his voice.

Dolores pushed her way through the bead curtain; one strand became caught over her shoulder and she swept this aside with a melodramatic gesture. ‘What has my cousin been up to now?'

‘He's not done anything,' Jaime mumbled.

‘Then since you will have done even less, you are not in a position to complain … The meal is ready, but perhaps you both wish to have more time in which to drink yourselves silly so that you will find your jokes about the food even more amusing?'

‘Let's eat,' Alvarez said hastily. ‘We wouldn't want the meal to be overcooked when you've gone to so much trouble to make it perfect.'

‘You will be able to appreciate that?' she asked with sweet venom before she returned into the kitchen.

‘I'll tell you what we're going to get,' Jaime said gloomily. ‘Arros brut with the rice only half cooked.'

‘Or just Granada de potates.'

The telephone rang. Dolores reappeared. ‘Are you both deaf? Or have you already drunk so much that your legs have become divorced?'

Typically, Jaime spoke without thought. ‘But you always answer.'

‘It is true that in the past I have been so selfless a wife that I have turned a blind eye to your laziness. However, now my eyes are wide open. No longer will I work myself to a shadow in order that you can lead a life of luxurious sloth.' She put her hands on her hips. ‘So you will answer the phone.'

As Jaime came to his feet, the ringing ceased. She returned into the kitchen.

Jaime sat, poured himself another brandy. ‘They say lots of women become peculiar at a certain age.'

‘They all do,' Alvarez muttered.

‘Why does she talk such nonsense? Have I ever behaved like she says?'

‘Of course not.'

‘If she wants to sit down for a while to rest, do I shout at her to get back to work?'

‘Maybe that's the problem.'

The phone rang again.

‘It won't be for me,' Jaime said. ‘You answer. And quick, before she comes back and starts up again.'

Alvarez hurried through to the front room and crossed to the telephone.

‘Are you Inspector Alvarez of the Cuerpo General de Policia?' the speaker asked in accented Castilian.

‘That's right.'

‘You're history if you don't call off the questions.' The line went dead.

He replaced the receiver. A joke? There was one cabo at the post with a sufficiently retarded sense of humour to make such a call, but what could have provoked him to do so? ‘… call off the questions,' suggested the ongoing inquiries in Bolivia concerning Algaro and how would the cabo have known about them? And could he have spoken the few words with an air of such menace when he'd silently be laughing? Then was the threat genuine? Where drugs were concerned, there was always violence; the caller had spoken in Castilian, not Mallorquin, and the accent could well have been South American …

He returned to the dining room.

‘Was that anything?' Jaime asked.

Dolores, who was about to serve the meal, studied him with an expression he could not read. ‘Nothing of any consequence,' he answered.

‘From the look on your face, it was important.'

‘Try concerning yourself with your own affairs and not other people's,' Dolores snapped.

For once, Alvarez was grateful for her intervention.

*   *   *

He dialled Palma and had to wait a couple of minutes before Salas came on the line. ‘Señor, at lunchtime I received a telephone call in which the man at the other end asked if I was Inspector Alvarez, then said, “You're history if you don't call off the questions.”'

‘Did you ask what he meant?'

‘There wasn't the chance. He rang off as soon as he'd said that.'

‘It's probably a hoax.'

‘But wouldn't a hoaxer have been more inventive? How would a hoaxer know we've asked for inquiries about Algaro to be made? And maybe it's not really possible to be certain from just hearing a few words, but I'm pretty sure his accent was South American.'

‘You judge the threat to be genuine?'

‘I think that's likely.'

‘I presume you've no idea where the call came from?'

‘None whatsoever.'

‘If genuine, this proves that the allegation that Algaro, when working at the embassy, was concerned with drug smuggling is virtually confirmed. At the moment we cannot judge whether the call was made on the island, the Peninsula, in England, or in Bolivia, which leaves us with no guide to the scale of events … The art of frightening a person into a certain course of action is to increase pressure until it is believed it can no longer be resisted. You will be contacted several times. Tell Telefonica to put a tap on your office and home lines.'

‘Señor, I –' Alvarez stopped.

‘Well?'

‘If the threat is genuine, then it will be executed…' He gulped. There were times when the choice of the wrong word was worse than unfortunate. ‘So will we ask the inquiries to be discontinued?'

‘Good God, what a ridiculous question!'

‘But … As you said, pressure will be increased until it cannot be resisted.'

‘My words were, until it is believed it can no longer be resisted. As a serving police officer, you are immune to such pressures.'

It was not something Alvarez had claimed.

‘Inform me immediately of any further developments. Goodbye.'

It was very unusual for Salas to be sufficiently courteous to say goodbye. It had been written that one spoke kindly to a condemned man not to ease his passing, but to salve one's own conscience …

The thought that somewhere there was someone who had marked him down for death unless he did something he was unable to do, turned Alvarez into a complete coward. In his mind, he saw his image caught in the crosswires of telescopic sights …

He opened the bottom right-hand drawer and brought out the new bottle of Soberano. He lit a cigarette. When faced with imminent extinction, the long-term damages of excessive smoking and drinking became irrelevant.

*   *   *

Alvarez slept badly, suffering a succession of dreams which when he awoke he could not remember but was certain had been terrifying. He arrived down in the kitchen to be told by Dolores that he could get his own breakfast because she was going out. Then, just before she left, she remarked that if only men could be honest when they looked into a mirror, perhaps they wouldn't make such absurd fools of themselves. As he tried to find the chocolate, he wondered what that last waspish comment was supposed to mean?

The drink he made was neither hot and nor did it taste of chocolate; he couldn't find any coca, the barra was stale, and there was only a scraping of membrilla.

He left the house and walked to his car, parked along the road, and even in that short distance the heat and exercise made him sweat. He unlocked the driving door and was about to climb in when he noticed an envelope on the seat. He picked this up, initially thinking he must have dropped it the previous evening. He sat behind the wheel, examined the envelope to remind himself about it. It was unmarked and sealed. And now that he thought more coherently, he became certain he had not been carrying an envelope the previous evening. He slit it open with his thumb. Inside was a card, aimed at the tourist trade, which pictured a couple in an open-topped car that had stopped in a safari park. The man had his arms about the woman as he told her that he loved her so much he could die for her; unseen by him, coming in on his side of the car was a large and very hungry lion.

During the night, someone had unlocked the car, put the card on the driving seat, relocked the car and left. The next twist of pressure …

He looked back along the road at his house. ‘They' knew not only where he lived, but also which of the parked cars was his. ‘They' were on the island. ‘They' wanted him to know that they could kill him any time they wished. ‘They' would be totally unconcerned about the consequences of whatever method of execution they chose. If Dolores, Jaime, Juan and Isabel might be swept up in the violence, so be it. He pictured a bomb's exploding in the middle of the night, the metal fragments piercing soft flesh, the collapsing roof crushing young bodies …

He drove through the narrow, twisting streets as if the hounds of hell were baying at the back wheels; those he passed cursed him for a thoughtless tourist. He rushed past the duty cabo, to the latter's astonishment, and up the stairs. He was panting for breath when he sat.

For once he was put straight through to the superior chief. ‘I know I locked my car, I always do, but this morning there was an envelope on the driving seat with the card on it. They've been watching me and anything can happen to the family…'

‘Pull yourself together,' Salas snapped.

The sharp order persuaded him to calm down. ‘Señor, when I went to my car this morning, parked in the street, there was an unmarked envelope on the driving seat. At first, I just thought I must have dropped it the previous night when I returned home, but then I realized I couldn't have done. Inside was a tourist card which is obviously a threat.'

‘Describe the card.'

He did so.

‘Send that and the envelope to the laboratory for a priority examination; as you've handled it, they'll need a set of your prints for elimination purposes. Has Telefonica put a tap on both phones?'

‘Yes, but –'

‘Then that's all that can be done for the moment.'

‘But…'

‘What?'

‘This has happened so soon after the phone call they must be in a hurry…'

‘Pressure will be applied frequently and with increasing force. This is merely the beginning.'

‘They want to stop us questioning Algaro, so surely…'