Sun, Sea and Murder

by Roderic Jeffries

‘I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just—’

  ‘Insulting.’

  ‘It’s a common word for food.’

  ‘Eaten by people with common tastes.’

  Jaime reached across the table for the bottle.

  ‘You have had enough,’ she said sharply.

  ‘I’ve hardly had any.’

  ‘And will continue to have hardly any. Even if I am capable of only cooking “grub”, I do not intend to serve it to someone who cannot decide from which of the two plates to eat.’ She retired into the kitchen.

  ‘Doesn’t matter what you say,’ Jaime muttered, ‘always takes it the wrong way.’

  ‘Which occasionally can be the right way.’ Alvarez drank.

  ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

  ‘I was thinking of a woman I met earlier.’

  ‘Who frustrated you?’

  ‘It was the impossibility which was frustrating.’

  ‘Can you ever understand yourself? . . . Move a little to your right.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘She won’t be able to see me if she looks out.’

  Alvarez quietly moved his chair. Jaime even more carefully poured himself another brandy. He drank. ‘What’s with this woman you’re talking about? Real smart looking? Makes the nerves tingle?’

  ‘Pleasant, but no great modern beauty.’

  ‘But you still had a try and failed?’

  ‘My problem was that I had to struggle to fail.’

  ‘Have you been boozing all afternoon?’

  ‘One coñac.’

  ‘In a litre glass.’

  ‘Have you ever met a woman who sent your mind off into a whirlpool?’

  ‘Thought you said she was no oil painting?’

  ‘I doubt there’s an artist can paint her charms.’ He swore.

  ‘Now what?’

  ‘I’ve just remembered there’s someone I should have questioned before returning home.’

  ‘Wouldn’t have done you much good unless you made more sense than you are now.’

  SIXTEEN

  Alvarez had settled behind his desk, regained his breath after the climb up the stairs, and was consider­ing whether to work when the phone rang.

  ‘The superior chief will speak to you.’

  He waited.

  ‘I have been expecting to have a report from you,’ Salas said. ‘Unfortunately, you give no heed to the words “I cannot wait and yet not be tired by waiting.”’

  ‘The fact is, señor, I have been very busy.’

  ‘Doing what, since it is unlikely to have been work?’

  ‘I set out to question Señor Howes, Señor Douste and Higuero.’

  ‘Howes admits his evidence concerning the alibi was false?’

  ‘I’m afraid he still does not.’

  ‘It was remiss of me to reject the idea of having Inspector Malberti conduct the examination.’

  ‘However, I have learned something of great importance.’

  ‘Surprising.’

  ‘Tyler was a secret Wyatt Earp.’

  ‘Would you explain what you are talking about – if, indeed, you know?’

  ‘Higuero returned to Es Teneres after work one evening in order to retrieve something he had forgotten to collect. He heard shooting and checked to see what was going on. At the end of the property, Tyler was imitating Earp.’

  ‘Now explain what that means.’

  ‘You haven’t read about Earp, señor?’

  ‘Is there any reason why I should have done?’

  ‘He was one of the greatest lawmen in the Wild West. He was at the battle of the O.K. Corral.’

  ‘How can a gunman have the slightest connection with what Higuero saw?’

  ‘Tyler was with one of his women. He was wearing a gun in a holster and was repeatedly pulling the gun out and firing at some old clay pots. He couldn’t hit any of them and ended up smashing them by kicking.’

  ‘The gardener must have a perverse sense of humour and finds it amusing to feed nonsense to someone of great naivety.’

  ‘There is reason to believe him.’

  ‘There is greater reason not to believe him. The gun which killed Tyler was an automatic. The murdering lawmen, wrongly perceived by some as heroes, used revolvers.’

  ‘You do know something about them, then.’

  ‘As befits my position, I have knowledge of many things even though I have no interest in them.’

  ‘Then I am surprised you did not know about Wyatt Earp.’

  ‘I have no wish for your opinion. It has not occurred to you that Higuero was making a fool of you?’

  ‘He showed me where the shooting had taken place. There were several shell cases on the ground and a number of broken pots. I have sent the cases to the laboratory for examination. My judgement is that they are—’

  ‘I prefer to wait for a judgement of some quality. You have not heard from the laboratory?’

  ‘Not yet.’

  ‘Then you can refrain from any further conjectures which can only prove to be false. As I understand it, you have only just been informed of this unlikely story?’

  ‘Men play at being Wild West heroes in America, señor.’

  ‘Tyler was an Englishman.’

  ‘I understand that there, men shoot each other with paint balls.’

  ‘If there can be any truth in that, then it is further evidence of the juvenile nature of the Anglo-American psyche. Will you now cease wasting my time and answer the question?’

  ‘Which was what, señor?’

  ‘Why have you only just reported this to me? Perhaps the answer is too self-evident to need you to give it. You had not questioned Higuero before, despite my ordering you to do so many days ago.’

  ‘I had a word with him, immediately. He denied any knowledge of a gun. Yet when I questioned him again, he told me about the shooting incident and couldn’t understand why I was so annoyed he hadn’t mentioned it before. I fear he is not very intelligent.’

  ‘If that is your judgement, then he must be virtually witless.’

  ‘I have learned something more. The identity of Madame Douste.’

  ‘You expect me to appreciate the importance of this when I have not heard the lady’s name before and you have not seen fit to explain who she is?’

  ‘I thought I had mentioned her to you on previous occasions, señor?’

  ‘You thought incorrectly.’

  ‘She is the blonde who has turned up from time to time.’

  ‘Am I to presume you are referring to the woman whom you have on occasion mentioned in obnoxious terms?’

  ‘I think even you would find her . . .’ He stopped quickly.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Unusual.’

  ‘In what manner?’

  ‘Her assets are basic.’

  ‘That is supposed to convey something meaningful?’

  ‘I thought it might.’

  ‘Typical! You expect to be understood when your words are meaningless. Why is she of any importance to this case?’

  ‘She virtually admitted that she did go down with Tyler.’

  ‘Down where?’

  ‘It’s an expression. Perhaps you are not conversant with it?’

  ‘Because it is of a prurient nature?’

  ‘She and Tyler were very close.’

  ‘Explain yourself.’

  ‘They were having an affair.’

  ‘Which explains your interest in her.’

  ‘The fact supports the possibility of jealousy being the motive for the murder.’

  ‘You are proposing that this woman’s husband shot Tyler?’

  ‘That’s doubtful. He’s considerably older than she, overweight and slothful, and there’s no reason to think he knew what she was up to. But Tyler did not restrict himself to one woman. A man of his nature never does because variety and pursuit afford as much pleasure as—’

  ‘Cease exposing your louche interests.’

  ‘Her affair ha
s to point to another husband having learned what was going on and being sufficiently jealous to have good reason to commit murder.’

  ‘No reason can condone murder.’

  ‘If your wife was—’

  ‘Enough!’

  ‘If my wife was having an affair with another man—’

  ‘Are you married?’

  ‘No, señor.’

  ‘Then your observations are not only unnecessary, they are also of no consequence. Do you have the names of other women whom this man has debauched?’

  ‘No. But it is certain he was very active.’

  ‘So it is pure surmise when you say that the husband of one of these unknown women is involved?’

  ‘I suppose you could say that. But if one thinks about it—’

  ‘Which you delight in doing. You will restrict your efforts to uncovering the evidence which will prove Tyler was murdered because he had been driving the car which killed the couple in England. Is that clear?’

  ‘Only—’

  ‘Is. That. Clear?’

  Alvarez said it was. He listened to a lecture on the duty of an inferior to accept the orders of his superior without question. The call finally came to an end. He hesitated, but only briefly, before he opened the bottom right-hand drawer of his desk.

  Howes was wearing a blazer with a crest on the breast pocket, white shirt, light fawn cotton trousers with sharp creases, white socks and white loafers. Perhaps, Alvarez thought, he really did see himself in an ancient film. ‘Good morning, señor.’

  ‘Not again?’

  ‘I fear so.’

  ‘If you want to speak to Kirsty, I’m afraid she’s out.’

  ‘I think you may find reason to be grateful for that.’

  ‘What . . . How d’you mean?’

  ‘If I might enter?’

  ‘I . . . I was just about to go out myself.’

  ‘I fear you will have to delay your departure.’

  ‘You can’t make me stay here.’

  ‘That is true. But our law allows me to make certain you are charged with refusing to assist me and so can be restrained somewhere less pleasant.’

  ‘Oh, God! I wish she hadn’t persuaded me. I told her it was a crazy idea.’

  ‘What was this crazy idea?’

  He hesitated. ‘To sell up at home and live here.’

  ‘Señor, I have been working long hours and my legs are tired. Might we go inside and sit?’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘I need to ask you some questions.’

  ‘I’ve told you everything I can.’

  ‘I have learned more facts which necessitate further answers from you. May I enter?’

  Reluctantly, Howes led the way inside, but did not go through to the patio, slumped down on one of the chairs. ‘We’d better wait until Kirsty returns.’

  ‘You still do not understand what I meant when I said it would be better for you if she were not here?’

  ‘No.’

  He needed his wife’s strength to buttress his weakness, even though he must fear what she might learn. ‘You have assured me Señor and Señora Drew were here for much of Thursday, the fourteenth.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘And your wife was also here.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘She had not returned to England for a while?’

  ‘She was here. How can I make you understand?’

  ‘By telling me the truth.’

  ‘I need a drink.’ Howes stood.

  ‘Sit down.’

  He looked at the French windows as if hoping for the timely arrival of his wife, sat.

  ‘Does your wife return to England from time to time?’

  ‘To see a close relative.’

  ‘And then you are here on your own?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘But not always?’

  ‘What . . . what are you getting at?’

  ‘Do you not sometimes have a visitor when your wife is away?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘You have no friends who drop in to cheer you up if you’re feeling slightly lonely?’

  ‘I thought . . .’ He stopped.

  ‘I was referring to Sophie?’

  After a moment of panic, he asked: ‘Who?’ in a croaky voice.

  ‘Sophie Douste.’

  ‘I don’t know anyone of that name.’

  ‘You surprise me. She told me you were a close friend of hers.’

  Howes rushed out of the room.

  Alvarez stared through the window at the pool, the trees, a passing seagull. Nothing was isolated – every action carried consequences; pleasure was trailed by pain.

  Howes returned, a glass in a shaking hand causing the whisky to ripple. He sat, drank. ‘She . . . she’s just a friend. The thing is . . . Kirsty doesn’t like her.’

  ‘Few wives would.’

  ‘We just meet to enjoy each other’s company.’

  ‘Very understandable.’

  ‘We talk.’

  ‘Before, during or after?’

  ‘I tell you, it wasn’t like that.’ He drained the glass.

  ‘I have to know the truth. Were Señor and Señora Drew here that Thursday?’

  ‘Yes,’ Howes finally answered.

  ‘I’m afraid I don’t believe you and will have to find out the truth. Do you understand what will happen if you continue to lie?’

  ‘I am not lying.’

  ‘Because I must know if I am right, I will have to ask many more questions and when your wife learns this, I believe she will wish to be present. Unfortunately, your relationship with Madame Douste will be mentioned.’

  ‘You . . . you’re going to tell Kirsty about her?’

  ‘I naturally will be as tactful as possible, but regrettably it is difficult to believe she will accept with equanimity the presence of so attractive a woman in her absence.’

  ‘You can’t!’

  ‘I have no option.’

  ‘But Kirsty can . . . She’ll think I was having an affair.’

  ‘It would seem to her to be a logical conclusion.’

  ‘Don’t you understand what that would mean? It’s her house. She’s so . . . so illiberal. She won’t listen to me. She might even throw me out. I have a pension, but it’s only small. You mustn’t let her know!’

  ‘Until I am convinced of what is the truth, I don’t think I have any option but to question you both together.’

  Howes picked up his glass, left the room, returned, sat, drank. ‘If I tell you . . .’

  ‘Tell me what happened that day, will I forego any mention of Sophie in front of your wife? Since to do that would cost you both such distress, it is something I am very reluctant to do. I suppose it might be possible to withhold any mention of Sophie’s visits here – provided I am convinced to do so would have no direct adverse consequence.’

  ‘You swear?’

  ‘I can promise nothing.’

  ‘You said you wouldn’t mention her.’

  ‘Unless you force me to do so.’

  ‘What do you want to know?’ Howes asked, his voice shaky.

  ‘Were the Drews here that Thursday?’

  He twice started to speak, stopped; the third time, he said: ‘No.’

  ‘They asked you to give them a false alibi?’

  He nodded.

  ‘Earlier, you said something was a crazy idea and I don’t think it was referring to your coming here to live. What was the idea?’

  ‘She said it would help.’

  ‘Who and what?’

  ‘Sandra said it had worked in South Africa. She talked about how making criminals face their victims and apologize helped the victims. The confession of guilt and acknowledgement of the harm caused brought relief. If Tyler would admit he had been driving the car which had knocked down Irene and Blaise, would apologize for the terrible hurt he had caused, we would find some relief from grief. Tim thought that was nonsense, as I did. A drunken man kills your stepson and the fact he says he’s sorry ca
n make the tragedy any more bearable . . .’

  ‘Did you see Tyler?’

  ‘We drove to his place, knocked on the front door and a maid opened it. We said we wanted to speak to him and gave our names. She told us he refused to see us and we’d better clear off or there’d be trouble.’

  ‘You went back another time?’

  ‘What was the use? A man like him was never going to confess.’

  ‘Why have you stayed on in Mallorca?’

  ‘I suppose it sounds terrible, but we’d booked for three weeks. Some holiday!’

  ‘Thank you for telling me this.’

  ‘You think I’d have done so if you hadn’t blackmailed me into it?’

  ‘I hope you don’t mean that.’

  ‘Too goddamn right I do!’

  ‘I had to know the truth.’

  Alvarez wondered, Did one always have to know the truth? It could be so very much more painful for people than a lie.

  SEVENTEEN

  He entered the dining room. Jaime sat at the table, a glass in front of him. Isabel and Juan were arguing, Dolores was laying the table.

  ‘The traffic was so bad, I was afraid I was going to be late,’ Alvarez said.

  Dolores placed the last glass on the table, ordered the children to be quiet, said he was too late to have a drink before the meal, went into the kitchen. Alvarez was about to pour himself a drink to prove her wrong, when she re­appeared. ‘There have been so many interruptions because of phone calls for you, Enrique, I have not had the time to prepare the meal properly.’

  ‘I’m as sure it will, as always, be perfection.’

  ‘As my mother used to say, “A man’s tongue is a weathervane, indicating in which direction he thinks the wind will blow.” That ill-mannered man who is your superior officer rang three times, rudely demanding to know where you were and why couldn’t I tell him. I replied each time, with a politeness foreign to any Madrileño, that I did not have the wish or opportunity to interest myself in your comings and goings. There was also a call from a woman. She said she had been expecting to hear from you.’

  ‘Who was she?’

  ‘I did not wish to know.’

  ‘She didn’t give a name?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘You’ve no idea who she might have been?’

  ‘She is a foreigner since her Castilian accent is bad and she does not speak Mallorquin.’

  ‘I can’t think of any lady who can be expecting me to get in touch with her . . .’