The Ambiguity of Murder (23 page)

Should she persuade Alvarez to leave the island and stay on the Peninsula so that those who wished to kill him could not find him? But when a man was thwarted, he became childishly vindictive and they might vent their feelings by killing Juan and Isabel …

She sighed. She would have to take matters into her own hands. Women were forever having to clear up men's mistakes.

*   *   *

Beatriz, a distant relation, was in her middle twenties and still single, through choice, not neglect. ‘I'm sorry, but I must leave. If I'm late, the little wall-eyed rat from La Coruña causes trouble. You'd think the hotel was his, the way he goes on.'

‘I need to talk, so he'll have to control himself. You work at the Hotel Monserrat in Cala Beston, don't you?' Dolores asked.

‘Yes. Look, I really must go…'

‘Are all the guests on package holidays or are some travelling independently?'

‘The management tries to keep five per cent of the rooms free for casuals. Javier, the manager – very different from Alfonso – says they're so much more profitable that it's worth risking them not being occupied all the time.'

‘Then ask all the staff if there are two South Americans, perhaps from Bolivia, who are staying there. Enrique says that as they phoned from Cala Beston that's the last place they'll be, but men are so lazy that they never move a step further than they have to; if that's where they made the call, that's where they'll be.'

‘I don't understand.'

‘You don't need to. They'll look and act tough and make trouble just to show what great men they are.'

‘I'll do what I can. Now I must leave…'

‘How many hotels are there in Cala Beston?'

‘Dozens. And then there are the hostals and self-catering flats…'

‘Men are far too lazy to look after themselves if they can get anyone else to do the work for them, so they'll be staying in a hotel. You must know people who work in the other hotels?'

‘Of course.'

‘Speak to them and ask them to look out for the two South Americans and to tell their friends to do the same.'

Beatriz moved towards the door, hoping this would persuade Dolores to leave.

Dolores stayed where she was. ‘One more thing. I want you to introduce me to a puta.'

‘My God!' Beatriz's voice was high. ‘What are you saying?'

‘You will know some.'

‘I will not. How could you ever think such a thing?'

‘Then how about someone who makes extra pesetas from the tourists? Are you going to tell me that working in a hotel you do not know any such person?'

‘That's different. It's only in the summer.'

‘Name someone.'

‘I don't know what she'll say if she learns I told you.'

‘Nothing, when I explain why I need her help.'

‘You're not telling me that Jaime –'

‘This has nothing to do with Jaime,' Dolores said furiously.

Beatriz quailed before such anger. ‘There's Sofia's Carolina.'

Dolores's anger changed to uncertainty. ‘Are you sure? She looks so young and pure.'

‘She wouldn't be very successful if she was fat and fifty, would she?'

Dolores sighed. It had become a wicked world. But then it was precisely that fact of which she intended to take advantage.

*   *   *

Carolina had little difficulty in attracting the attention of the two men, one older than the other, both marked by their antagonistic attitude, earlier identified as Bolivians by the porter who had carried their luggage from the taxi into the foyer and been badly tipped. They suggested drinks on the patio which overlooked the bay.

She had mastered the art of discouraging encouragement. She responded to their initial advances with sophisticated amusement, but at the same time subtly suggested that she was not really intent on rejecting their attentions; when they became more explicit, she expressed her dislike of crudeness, while intimating that she spoke from a well-bred sense of propriety, not the heart. Three-quarters of an hour after their meeting, the younger man had gained sufficient alcoholic confidence to suggest they had some real fun. She showed hesitation before remarking that the hotel was very decorously run and with little sympathy for modern amusements, so would it not be better if she drove them to her flat where no one would object to anything? The younger man said that was a great idea, but he'd drive because he never allowed himself to be driven by a woman. She replied that it was obviously time he let a woman do something unusual to him and he ceased objecting.

When they began to head inland, the older man became uneasy, for no specific reason, but responding to an instinct honed by years of living dangerously. He demanded to know where they were going and his tone scared her, but she drew courage from Dolores's words – A man will believe the moon is made of blue cheese until he gets what he wants. She told them she lived inland because there the rents were half what they were on, or very near to, the coast; the house had been turned into two flats and Veronica lived in the lower one; Veronica was just wild and only the previous week had held a party …

They turned off the road on to a dirt track which led up to an old farmhouse. Just before she braked to a halt and switched off the lights, it was possible to make out the fact that the building was in a sufficient state of disrepair to be uninhabitable.

‘What are you up to, you bitch?' the older man shouted as he tried to grab her before she could leave the car, but just failed. He swore violently as he wrenched open his door and jumped out, determined to run her down and beat the truth out of her. He heard a movement from behind him and began to turn, but his eyes were not adapted to the dark and he made out nothing before he was hit on the head with sufficient force to send his senses reeling. Almost as tough as he boasted, he struggled to fight back, but a second blow blasted him into unconsciousness.

*   *   *

Ringed by six women, Dolores held a torch so that its wide beam covered both men who were now conscious but helpless because their wrists and ankles had been secured with surgical tape, their mouths gagged with dusters, and their waists secured by cord to iron rings, once used to tether horses.

‘You came here to kill my children; to blow them apart with a bomb.' Dolores's voice crackled with hatred.

Life had hardened the two men, but she really frightened them.

‘I have lain in the dark and trembled at the thought of you robbing me of what I love most in this world. So now I am going to leave you in the dark to tremble, knowing that when I return, you are going to be robbed of what you, like every man, love most in this world. I will slice them off and feed them to the dogs.' Dolores swung the torch away from them and led the way out.

In the darkness, the men's imaginations reduced them to snivelling cowards.

CHAPTER 26

Alvarez lay in bed and vainly wished he had been born brave. Then he could walk the streets without imagining the blade of a knife sliding into his flesh; would not die a dozen times an hour …

There was a knock on the door. ‘Enrique,' shouted the owner of the hostal.

‘What's happened?' he replied, fearing disaster.

‘You're wanted on the phone.'

‘Who is it?'

‘Never asked.'

No one but the family knew where he was staying. But had ‘they' managed to trace him, were about to taunt him with his impotence? With trembling fingers, he pulled on trousers and shirt.

The telephone was on the half-landing and he stood by the receiver, off its stand, for several seconds before he finally found the courage to pick it up. ‘Yes?' he said in a croaky voice.

‘What the devil's going on?'

It was perhaps the first time that he was grateful to find his caller was the superior chief. ‘In respect of what, señor?'

‘Why do I have to phone your home to find out how to get hold of you? Why haven't you left a note of your new address at the post as required by regulations?'

‘I decided to move away from home so that my family was no longer at risk. It then seemed better not to tell anyone at the post where I'd moved to in case someone inadvertently passed on the address.'

‘It's long after eight o'clock. Why aren't you at work?'

‘But it's Sunday.'

‘I expect my officers to work whatever the day when there's an emergency.'

‘What emergency?'

‘How typical that I have to acquaint my inspector in Llueso of what has been happening in his area!… Last night, a little after midnight, the guardia post in Cala Beston was rung by a woman who refused to identify herself and said that two South American child killers were tied up in an old finca. Since there had been no reports of children having been murdered, or of known murderers visiting the island, the message appeared to be a hoax. However, the sarjento, a man of initiative who comes from Madrid, decided to direct a patrol car to the finca named to make certain. There, the crew discovered two men who had been bound and gagged and who were in a hysterical state. They begged to be taken away before the women returned and cut off…'

‘Yes, señor?'

‘It is immaterial. They were taken back to the post and questioned; by then recovered, they made the absurd claim that it had been a joke which had gone wrong and even went so far as to deny that they had ever said they had been attacked, tied up, and threatened by women. They were staying at the Hotel Emperatriz and the rooms they occupied were searched. Amongst their baggage were found two handguns. Their passports showed them to be Bolivian and…'

‘Bolivian!'

‘That's what I have just said.'

‘They're the men who have been threatening me!'

‘That seems very probable, which is why a request has gone through to the authorities in Bolivia for information concerning them.'

‘They're in custody?'

‘The handguns allow us to hold them.'

‘Then I don't have to worry any more! I don't have to wonder if every man who approaches is set to kill me. I don't have to feel the cold steel sliding into me…'

‘Control yourself.'

‘Señor, if you knew how awful it has been for me…'

‘I have no intention of dwelling on something which brings discredit to the force. What now concerns me is the part you have played in this incredible incident.'

‘Me? How could it be anything to do with me?'

‘Because the episode is so vulgar and ridiculous that I can be certain you are deeply involved.'

‘I've been here, in the hostal, all night. Mateo, the owner, will tell you that we had a drink or two together and it was late at night – or perhaps early in the morning – before we parted.'

‘On this island, where truth is adjustable, a man will swear to anything.'

‘But you said it was women who tied up the two men…'

‘That is what they claimed when hysterical. Once they regained their senses, they naturally denied such stupidity. Even if a Mallorquin woman took part in such an incident, which I can find just conceivable, it becomes inconceivable that she could then bring herself to utter such a disgusting threat.'

‘You haven't said what that threat was.'

‘Unlike you, I gain no pleasure from such perverse details.'

‘Señor, if the attackers weren't women, why would the two Bolivians, however scared, have said they were, knowing that would turn them into a laughing-stock?'

‘That is immaterial. What is very material is the question, what part did you play in this disgusting affair?'

‘Absolutely none.'

‘I find that impossible to believe and I warn you that when the truth is revealed, you will learn to your cost that justice can never be served by injustice.' The line went dead.

Alvarez replaced the receiver. He was a target no longer! He felt as if he had drunk deeply of the finest Vega Sicilia, had won El Gordo, could float on air …

*   *   *

When he stepped into the house, suitcase in one hand, he immediately caught the scent of rich, spicy cooking; when he entered the dining room, his hopes were running high. Jaime, seated in an armchair, looked up. ‘I thought you weren't coming back for a time?'

‘Things have changed.' He put the suitcase down, looked at the bead curtain. ‘Is she doing some proper cooking?'

‘That's what I'm hoping.'

He drew in a deep breath. ‘D'you think it could be Colomins amb salsa?'

Dolores stepped through the bead curtain. ‘So it is you!' She embraced him and kissed him several times on both cheeks. ‘I was just about to phone the hostel to tell you to come here for lunch.'

‘Colomins amb salsa?'

‘You'll just have to wait to find out,' she said archly. She returned to the kitchen.

Alvarez sat at the table. ‘What's changed her around so suddenly?'

‘How would I know? Unless it was Antonia,' Jaime replied.

‘How could she have done anything?'

‘It's like this. Most of yesterday, Dolores was real bitchy and I couldn't do anything right. Went for me all ends up because I hadn't cleaned the drain outside the kitchen. As I said to her, a bloke has to sit down and rest his limbs from time to time if he's not to wear out. You should have heard her reply. She –'

‘Never mind all that.'

‘Easy to say. But I do mind since it's me that gets worn out working.'

‘When did Dolores change?'

‘Yesterday evening, she said she was going out to see Antonia. I asked her who was going to do my supper and she called me so lazy I'd starve to death rather than make myself a sandwich. A sandwich for supper! Is that why one marries?'

‘And she was different when she got back?'

‘Which wasn't until nearly one o'clock. When she woke me up, I told her I'd been worried sick that something had happened to her and what did she think she was doing, being out so late. She didn't shout back at me. She didn't start spouting all that nonsense about being a person in her own right, whatever that means; she just apologized. Apologized! And this morning, she's been all cheerful and doing some proper cooking. Weird, that's what it is. Like I always say, if you can understand a woman, you need to have your brains tested. One moment sweet, the next sourer than a lemon in October. If us men acted like them, the world would be in a right proper mess…'