‘You expect me to be referring to the driver?’
‘I wanted to be certain, since you didn’t refer to him by name.’
‘Continuity of speech means nothing to you? On what grounds do you accept without question what Howes told you?’
‘There was no reason to think he might have been lying.’
‘You ignore the fact he is a friend of Drew?’
‘I doubt someone would lie in a case as serious as this merely because of friendship. Although it is possible they aren’t the close friends they seem to be.’
‘What is your authority for saying that?’
‘The maid, Eva, was present when the Drews arrived where the Howes are staying. She believes they hardly knew each other.’
‘A couple were likely to drive the length of the island to meet someone they did not know?’
‘Señor, you told me Camp de Mar was not at the other end of the island.’
‘Your impertinence knows no limits. What this woman thought can be of no consequence.’
‘But there are one or two people on the island who possess the ability to judge the truth in another’s mind.’
‘Peasant nonsense.’
‘Not so, señor. Eva might be descended from Fernando. He lived in the mountains with his family and owned so little that when he travelled to the nearest village on his decrepit mule, the beggar in the village would jeer at him. He tried to farm, but the mountains are not friendly to farming and they were often hungry unless they managed to kill a feral goat, a rabbit or netted some birds. Yet even so, they often visited Damían, the anchorite, who lived in a cave at the foot of Puig Brot, and gave him food because he had even less than they.’
‘What the devil is the point of all this?’
‘I am about to explain, señor. Damían, just before he died, said he wished to thank them for their kindness, but all he could offer was the gift of being able to read another’s mind. He warned Fernando that such a gift was both good and bad. Fernando thought of the benefit he would have when trading the little produce he had to sell – he might be able to afford a bar of chocolate for his wife – and accepted the offer.
‘Later, he felt unwell and his wife persuaded him to ride their sad old mule over the long and difficult journey to Laraix where he could consult a doctor, despite the fortune that would cost. The doctor told him there was nothing much wrong with him and he would be fine if he took some pills which he could buy at a farmacia. He read the doctor’s mind and learned he might have cancer. When he returned to the cave in the mountains, he did not return to work, but lay down to die.’
‘I do not expect my inspectors to pay heed to such nonsense.’
‘It is fact.’
‘You would like to explain how the power of extra-sensory insight was transferred? Was it with the wave of a wand or the flourish of a broom?’
‘Fernando’s wife left the mountains when he died and came to live in a tumbledown caseta just outside Llueso. Word soon spread she could read a person’s mind and those who did not wish this were quick to see the caseta was renovated and she had wine and food.
‘Tia María was never wrong. She said little Catalina was contemplating suicide because Tomeo had left her for another woman. Catalina’s mother claimed that was nonsense since no woman could consider a man worth as much as a cut finger. Catalina threw herself down a neighbour’s well and drowned, which was very inconvenient because the well had to be pumped out and it was summer when every litre of water is precious.’
‘Have you finished?’
‘I am trying to explain why one should be ready to accept Eva could be right.’
‘Is Eva the daughter of this woman who can read another’s mind?’
‘Who would marry a woman who knew all one’s thoughts? Tia María never remarried.’
‘That is no hindrance to birth on this island. Alvarez, were you dropped on your head soon after you were born?’
‘I have never been told I was.’
‘It was probably hidden from you. You will ignore Eva’s absurd claims.’
‘But—’
‘That is an order. You will concentrate on work, not ridiculous myth, and determine what car drove out of Es Teneres very soon after Tyler’s murder.’
‘Yes, señor.’
Alvarez replaced the receiver. Life was unbalanced. A man could do his best and yet be blamed for not doing better; he could point out a possibility and have it rejected with scorn. He looked at his watch. Time to return home. What would Dolores be cooking? Costelletes de porc amb salsa de magranes?
TWELVE
For the first time in days, there were clouds, bringing some slight relief from the heat; tourists complained, animals ventured out from under the shade of trees, hedges and walls.
In his office, Alvarez sat back in his chair, his feet up on the desk. He was depressed. If he continued to make so little progress in the case, Salas would accuse him of incompetence and demand he worked twenty-five hours a day; Dolores was in one of her womanly moods, possibly because Jaime was continually, if inadvertently, annoying her; Juan and Isabel were spending the holidays arguing with each other; and the government had announced an increase of the tax on alcohol.
Through the open window came the call of a travelling knife grinder. How long since he had last heard the sound of a conch shell being blown? When had anyone last threshed or winnowed; ploughed with a mule; driven a donkey cart along the roads; intensively cultivated a quarter of a hectare to keep a family fed? Small general stores, where one went for a chat as much as to buy, had largely been driven out of existence by the supermarkets. Brandy, gin and rum could no longer be sold from the barrel. It was not good to age. Old men – not that he was even middle-aged – did not forget; they remembered and memories were painful.
The phone rang. A policia in the port reported a tourist had had his pocket picked and accused a Romanian without papers. The Romanian swore by many gods that he had not stolen as much as a cent. There was nothing in his possession which could be determined to belong to the tourist. The inspector had better turn out to deal with the problem. Alvarez said he was engaged in a major investigation so had not the time to deal with a minor one and as the victim was only a tourist, the policia would have to sort things out.
He lit a cigarette. Salas had been scornfully contemptuous of anyone’s having the ability to read another’s mind. Perhaps time had generously embellished the story, yet it was undeniable that at times one could instinctively gain an impression concerning the attitude of another and this was as often true as false.
What if he accepted Drew and Howes had never met before? Why would Drew have driven from Llueso to Camp de Mar? It didn’t make sense. Yet there had been the meeting so it had to make sense. Again, accept Drew had shot Tyler. Then one had to believe Howes’ evidence – and his wife’s – regarding the luncheon party on the day of the shooting was a lie. But why lie to support a stranger? Because they had reason to shield Drew? They themselves had suffered at the hands of Tyler? It had been their son who had been killed by the drunken Tyler?
He had logically deduced the truth from what had seemed to be irreconcilable facts.
He leaned over and opened the bottom right-hand drawer of the desk. There were moments in life when a drink was earned. He had just emptied the glass when it occurred to him that the man who had been killed with Irene Drew had been Blaise Newcome, not Blaise Howes.
There was only one way of meeting bitter frustration. He had a second drink.
‘You look like she changed her mind at the last moment,’Jaime said, as Alvarez sat at the dining-room table.
Alvarez reached across for the bottle of 104, brought a glass out of the sideboard, poured a drink. ‘If only.’
‘What?’
‘It was that simple.’
‘You’ve been caught?’
‘I was so certain.’
‘Never safe to be that. I can remember—’
‘Reme
mber what?’ Dolores called out from the kitchen. She stepped through the bead curtain. Her midnight hair was in slight disarray, her face was sweaty, her apron was stained, but the scornful dignity of her expression was that of an extravagantly clad Andaluce rider at the great fair. ‘Well?’
‘I’ve forgotten,’ Jaime muttered.
‘Because a man only remembers what he wishes to.’ She turned to Alvarez. ‘You are in trouble?’
‘Not just yet.’ Jaime sniggered.
‘You seek humour in the dustbin,’ she snapped.
‘To prevent further misunderstanding,’ Alvarez said, ‘I do not have a newly pregnant girlfriend.’
‘But not for want of trying,’ Jaime suggested.
‘In this house you will speak as a man of decency, not as the man you are,’ Dolores said fiercely.
She turned to Alvarez. ‘What is the trouble?’
‘I thought I could make a fool of the superior chief.’
‘He needs no help to be that.’
‘I imagined I was going to have the delight of explaining that there are times when I can be smarter than him.’
‘If he were not from Madrid, he would not need to be told that.’
‘I was so certain I had worked out the truth, but I had forgotten. I often forget. Perhaps he is right and I am not up to my job.’
‘What foolishness are you speaking now?’
‘I forgot the son has the same name as the father.’
‘If he’s lucky,’ Jaime said.
‘In your father’s case, he was the unlucky one since you disgrace it,’ she snapped. ‘Enrique, of course he bears the same name, even if his father dies and his mother remarries.’
Alvarez stared at the small framed photograph of Dolores’s mother wearing what had been the traditional dress of working women – palmito tied under the chin with coloured ribbon, black skirt reaching down to the ground.
‘What is it now?’ she asked, her concern increased by Alvarez’s manner.
‘I’d like to kiss you.’
‘Can’t keep him quiet,’ Jaime said lightly. His mood abruptly changed. He was going to have to buy a new refrigerator.
Salas rang at a quarter to one, as Alvarez was about to leave the office, convinced the other would not get in touch with him that close to lunchtime. Were he a superior chief, Alvarez would guard his digestion by always enjoying a long luncheon break.
‘I should like to know, Alvarez, why you have yet again ignored the rules governing the conduct of officers?’
‘I didn’t know I had, señor.’
‘Because you have never bothered to consult the rules?’
‘What particular one am I supposed to have breached?’
‘Which you have breached. No contact is to be made with a foreign police force without the express permission of the commanding officer.’
‘You are talking about . . .’ He did not name his call to England since Salas could be accusing him of some other breach of conduct which he might be able to explain.
‘You made a request to the British police without reference to me. You were unaware that any such request must be made through a senior officer?’
‘No, señor, but—’
‘You are about to try to excuse the inexcusable?’
‘I thought the matter was so simple, my question could be answered without the usual fuss.’
‘Standing orders are not “fuss”. They are the rules governing the proper running of the Cuerpo.’
‘I was trying to save you trouble, señor.’
‘Your resignation would do that far more effectively. A man in London has just replied by phone to your illegal request for information, and due to your disregard of orders, I initially had no idea as to what he was talking about. It is extremely regrettable that he may have thought me far from clear-headed.’
‘Most unlikely, señor.’
‘I did not ask for an opinion.’
‘What did the Englishman tell you?’
‘I will come to that in a minute.’
In five minutes, Alvarez thought. And in six minutes, I will expose the falsity of your criticism and the incompetence of your judgements.
‘You doubted Señor Howes was providing a legitimate alibi for Señor Drew because you absurdly claimed the maid had read their minds and discovered they were not friends. It is an indication of the primitive intellect that it believes the impossible. So you failed to consider the circumstances and ask yourself, “What if by some coincidence, not mono-telepathy, they really had not known each other? Then what could their meeting signify?”’
‘Señor, as a matter of fact—’
‘Had you the ability to look beyond known facts and attempt a reasoned assumption, you might then have asked yourself, “Why should they meet, what could have caused them to wish to do so?” And that could have led you to consider the possibility that the meeting was in order they might claim friendship. Why should they wish that? The answer is clear – to me, at least. Because they had some common interest. Yet if they had never met before, what could that be? The necessity to provide a false alibi following the murder of Tyler, who had killed their respective son and daughter.
‘The falsity of this conclusion should be obvious, but I will explain it. The female victim was Irene Drew; the male victim was Blaise Newcome.’
‘Señor, I phoned England—’
‘Without reference to me, in breach of the rules. Had Mrs Howes married a second time; had Blaise Newcome’s parents died when he was young and he had been adopted by the Howes? England has provided the answer. Blaise’s father died and his mother married Señor Newcome.
‘Señor Drew has attempted to arrange a false alibi and that is a strong indication of his guilt in the murder of Tyler. Have you been able to follow all I have said?’
‘Señor, I phoned England because—’
‘You phoned without my permission.’
Alvarez accepted defeat.
‘Do you understand what to do now?’ Salas asked.
‘Yes, señor.’
‘You will question Drew far more vigorously than before, you will re-examine all evidence in order to note the important facts which, in your slapdash style, you have until now ignored.’
‘But there is actually no hard and fast evidence against him. So shouldn’t I also try to identify and question husbands of the wives Tyler has entertained?’
‘It is astonishing you find it necessary to ask. You should already have identified and questioned such men. You will not use the word “entertain” in connection with the moral crime of adultery.’
‘No, señor. What worries me is that I cannot see Señor Drew shooting Tyler.’
‘Had you done so, this investigation would have been unnecessary.’
‘Judging his character, it is very difficult to visualize his committing murder.’
‘You judge character as easily as some woman of primitive background is supposed to read the mind?’
‘I see him as a man who accepts life is cruel and so can reconcile himself to tragedy.’
‘You have a son or daughter?’
‘I don’t think . . .’
‘What were you going to say?’
‘I don’t think parenthood is important.’
‘If one’s son or daughter is killed by a drunken driver who then tries to escape justice, you imagine a father can accept the tragedy without emotion, without hatred for the driver?’
‘There’s a difference between hating someone and killing him.’
‘As great a difference as between an efficient officer and an inefficient one. Have you found the gun used to kill Tyler?’
‘No, señor.’
‘Have you even conducted a second search for it? Have you questioned the staff to determine whether they ever saw Tyler with a gun? Have you questioned anyone who might have sold it to Drew?’
‘I have made a second and very thorough search, señor, spoken to the staff, and passed the
word around to know who’s dealing in guns. The search revealed nothing, the staff have never seen a gun. I have not yet had any information from informers.’ As he spoke, it occurred to him he had not questioned Higuero about guns. ‘If he had possessed a gun—’
‘Who had?’
‘Señor Drew. That would show premeditation. This might seem to be corroborated by the fact that the meeting between Drew and Howes took place before the murder of Tyler – Drew was establishing an alibi should one be needed. In this case, obviously the murder was carefully planned. But I don’t think it went anything like that. Señor Drew is not capable of planning and then executing a murder. He might, as might anyone, shoot if provoked beyond self-control, but that is all.’
‘Your authority?’
‘As I said earlier, his character—’
‘And as I have had reason to say endless times, an officer relies on facts, not an unqualified judgement of character. Is that clear?’
‘Yes, señor.’
Salas did not say goodbye. Alvarez replaced the receiver. After lunch, and a siesta, he would have a word with Higuero so that it became fact no one had seen a gun.
He left and was halfway down the stairs when he heard the phone in his room begin to ring. He continued on down.
He returned to his office and sat. The black clouds of the morning had been dispersed by a couple of brandies before a dish of patatas con sepias y almejas, a glass or two of wine and a prolonged siesta.
The phone rang and the plum-voiced secretary said the superior chief wished to speak to him.
‘Where have you been?’ was Salas’s greeting.
‘In what way, señor?’
‘What kind of an answer is that? I wished to speak to you shortly after doing so this morning, yet there was no answer.’
‘I suddenly received information which suggested a man could tell me about the illegal sale of a small handgun, so I left the office to make contact with him.’
‘The result?’
‘The report proved to be nonsense.’
‘I phoned at four this afternoon and again there was no answer.’
‘When I discovered the informer knew nothing of importance, I returned to Es Teneres and yet again searched the grounds. Unfortunately, once more without success. I hadn’t realized how long that would take and did not return home for lunch until late in the afternoon. I ate as quickly as I could and returned here.’
Sun, Sea and Murder Page 11
