Ruffolo should have remembered that a woman crossed in love was to be feared more than a fighting bull. He stood. ‘Let me get you another drink.’
CHAPTER 18
When Carlos opened the front door of Ca Na Ada, Alvarez said: ‘Is Señor Ruffolo back from France?’
‘He arrived just before lunch.’
‘Then I’ll have a word with him.’ He stepped into the house without waiting to be invited.
Carlos looked annoyed by this breach of decorum, but finally contented himself with muttering: ‘He’s by the pool.’ He left Alvarez to close the door.
Ruffolo, his bronzed body in the briefest of swimming trunks, lay sunbathing on the diving board. Ada, in a costume that highlighted the irregularities of her figure, was on a pool chaise longue in the shade of the complex. As Alvarez approached, she said loudly: ‘It must be drinking time.’
He came to a halt. ‘On this island, señorita, time is for whatever you wish. I am here to speak to Señor Ruffolo.’
‘Why?’
‘To see if he can help me in my inquiries into the death of Señora Ogden.’
‘Death?’
‘The body found in the mountains has been identified as hers.’
She exclaimed with surprise. Then she said with sudden anger: ‘Of course he can’t bloody well help you.’
‘Nevertheless, I have to make certain that he cannot, which is why I must ask him some questions.’
She turned towards Ruffolo and her tone altered. ‘Rino, love, he says he must talk to you.’
‘Ignore him,’ Ruffolo replied with languid contempt. ‘Tell him that if he goes on bothering us, we’ll complain.’
‘Señor, it is your right to complain if you wish,’ Alvarez said equably. ‘Just as it is my right to ask you questions. And either I ask them here, or you will return with me to Llueso so that I can ask them at the guardia post.’
There was a brief silence, broken by some good-natured shouting from the beach. Then Ruffolo came to his feet, moving with athletic ease despite the narrowness of the board. He stepped on to the poolside, walked round and past Alvarez, sat on the chair next to the chaise longue. ‘Get it over with quickly, then.’
‘I would prefer to speak to you on your own.’
‘And if I wouldn’t?’
‘I should begin to think that you are not very intelligent.’
Ada’s expression was now so sharp that it held more than a suggestion of viciousness. Ruffolo stood. ‘We’ll go into the house.’
‘But…’ she began.
‘Don’t worry, my precious. It’s worth the trouble to relieve you of his presence.’
He strode briskly towards the house. Alvarez followed at a more leisurely pace and by the time he stepped into the cool of the sitting-room, Ruffolo was sprawled out on one of the settees. As he shut the outer door, Carlos entered through the inner doorway.
‘A gin and tonic and this time make certain there’s a slice of lemon in it,’ Ruffolo ordered.
Carlos looked at Alvarez.
‘He doesn’t want anything.’
Carlos left.
Alvarez ignored the arrogant rudeness and spoke pleasantly once he was seated. ‘Señor, do you remember my asking you if you were friendly with Señora Ogden?’
‘No.’
‘Then you will also not remember your answer?’
‘That’s smart thinking.’
‘You said you had only met her casually at parties.’
‘So?’
‘Would you now like to reconsider your answer?’
‘Why should I?’
‘You might consider it more advantageous to yourself to be honest.’
‘I met her, I was polite, and that’s the full story. Even if she’d been my type, which she wasn’t, I wouldn’t have moved.’
‘Because of your sense of tremendous gratitude towards the señorita and the desire to express that by denial?’
‘Is that supposed to make sense?’
‘Surely those are, more or less, your own words?’
Carlos entered and crossed to where Ruffolo sat, put a tall glass down on the occasional table. ‘There are two slices of lemon in your drink, señor.’
The words had been spoken deferentially, but Alvarez wondered if Ruffolo possessed even that small degree of self-humility that would have led him to suspect the contempt lurking behind them? He waited until Carlos had left to say: ‘Do you remember the circumstances in which you expressed so noble a sentiment?’
‘Hardly, since I never spoke such tripe.’
‘Then Señorita Carol is a liar?’
Ruffolo could not conceal his sense of shock. ‘Who?’ he asked weakly.
‘Señorita Carol Murdoch.’
‘Who’s she?’
‘She would be very upset to hear you ask such a question. She described the friendship between you and her as very strong.’
Ruffolo drank deeply, looked briefly at Alvarez, stood, walked over to the nearest window and stared out at the pool. ‘The fact is … I do know Carol.’
‘How well?’
He returned to his chair. There was an ingratiating smile on his face. ‘You’re a man of the world, aren’t you?’
‘Am I?’
‘You can understand that one sometimes needs a little diversion when it can’t do any harm.’
‘In other words, all the time it remains secret?’
‘I knew you’d understand. So there’s no need for her to hear about it.’ He nodded in the direction of the pool.
‘That depends on the truth.’
‘I’ve just noticed you haven’t a drink. How typically stupid of Carlos. What would you like?’
The blatant opportunism of this sudden hospitality could hardly be missed, but Alvarez had always believed it to be a mistake to hold too firmly to principle. ‘A coñac, with just a little ice, please.’
Ruffolo went over to the fireplace and rang the bell, then strolled across to the windows and stared once more in the direction of the pool.
‘You have always met the señorita in the afternoons because that is the only time you both are free?’
‘I have to be back here when she wakes up. She’s terribly possessive.’
‘Where do you entertain Señorita Murdoch?’
‘That can’t matter.’
Carlos entered.
‘Why didn’t you ask the inspector what he wanted?’ Ruffolo asked curtly. ‘A large coñac with ice.’
Carlos left.
‘The answer does matter, and if you tell me now what it is, perhaps I shall not have to return. Señorita Heron might become even more curious if I did.’
‘In … in the flat.’
‘You have a flat for such occasions?’
‘A chap I know rents it and as he’s always short of cash … He’s glad of the extra pesetas.’
‘The name of your friend?’
‘Hans Wilms.’
‘The address of the flat?’
‘He won’t declare the money so I can’t tell you…’
‘I do not work for the tax people.’
Ruffolo hesitated, then said: ‘Fifteen, Carrer Gabriel Font.’
Carlos returned, put a glass down by the side of Alvarez, left.
Alvarez drank, then said: ‘Now you have agreed it is more sensible to tell the truth, I will ask you again how well you knew Señora Ogden?’
‘You can’t think I had anything to do with her death.’
‘Until I hear the truth, I have no way of judging.’
‘I haven’t seen her in weeks and weeks. I swear that’s the truth. You’ve got to believe me.’
‘Suppose you answer the question I asked?’
‘I … Well, I did know her quite well.’
‘You had an affair with her?’
‘It wasn’t me who started it. I don’t go for married women. But she wouldn’t leave me alone.’ He saw Alvarez’s expression. ‘All the women go for me.’
�
��You must lead a very complicated life. When did the affair start?’
‘Maybe a year ago; something like that.’
‘And it was still extant when you began an affair with Señorita Murdoch?’
‘I didn’t say that.’
‘Señora Ogden would not have created such a scene in the señorita’s office if your relationship with her had come to an end.’
Ruffolo was silent.
‘And it continued up to the señora’s death?’
‘It stopped after the trouble in Carol’s place.’
‘Are you asking me to believe that Señora Ogden accepted with good grace that she had been supplanted?’
‘She was scared at having behaved so stupidly after he…’
‘Well?’
‘Her husband had been asking questions which made her think that perhaps he had heard rumours.’
‘Of her affair with you?’
‘Yes. So she decided we must bring things to an end.’
‘You accepted that?’
‘To tell the truth, I had become a little bored. When one has known a woman for a time, there is no mystery left. Don’t you agree?’
‘Lacking your wide experience, I’d hesitate to do so … When was the last time you saw the señora, and this was not at a party?’
‘Perhaps a couple of weeks after the scene in the office.’ Ruffolo stood and once more looked through the French windows. ‘I knew she couldn’t stay away for long. There’s no need to tell her anything or she’ll just become upset. She’s such a simple woman.’
Alvarez would have described her as a complicated woman.
Ada entered the sitting-room. ‘Gawd, it’s a sight cooler in here!’ She stared at Alvarez. ‘Surprise, surprise, the man’s boozing!’
‘Señor Ruffolo kindly offered me a drink.’
‘And you were too bloody polite to refuse?’ She dropped down on to one of the armchairs, her flesh bulging in and around her costume. ‘If everyone else is boozing, why aren’t I?’
Ruffolo stood. ‘I’m sorry, my angel.’ He went over to the fireplace and pressed the bell.
‘So what have you two men been talking about?’
Ruffolo returned to his chair. ‘The inspector has been asking me if I can help in his inquiries into the death of Sabrina.’
‘What makes him think you can?’
‘As far as I can make out, no particular reason.’
‘Then why’s he been talking to you and not me?’
‘Sweet, how can I possibly answer that? Perhaps he will soon start asking you the same questions he’s been asking me.’
‘Then in that case, you’d better clear off for a while.’
‘I don’t understand.’
‘He had to talk to you on your own, so he’ll need to talk to me on my own. Run along and sunbathe.’
‘But…’
‘Be a good boy.’
Carlos entered the room.
‘Champagne for the señora. And another coñac for the inspector. And bring me a gin and tonic out by the pool.’ Ruffolo’s resentful pique was obvious from his tone.
Ada waited until both Carlos and Ruffolo had left the room, then said: ‘All right, let’s have it.’
‘How do you mean, señorita?’ Alvarez asked.
‘Don’t try and come dumb with me. You may look dozy, but there’s a mind behind the face.’
Carlos entered. He put an ice bucket, in which was a bottle of champagne, and a flute on the table at the side of her chair and was about to open the bottle when she stopped him.
‘He can do that.’ She jerked her head in Alvarez’s direction.
Carlos set a full glass down on Alvarez’s table, picked up the empty one, left. Alvarez went over to her side and managed to open the bottle of Veuve Clicquot without spilling a drop. He filled the flute, then returned to his seat.
She drank eagerly. ‘When I was working and people thought that buying half a pint gave them the right to treat me like a piece of furniture or make suggestions I’d heard a thousand times before, I promised myself that if ever I was rich, I’d drink champagne morning, noon, and night to spit in their eyes. It’s not often a dream comes true.’
‘Is the reality as satisfying as you’d hoped?’
‘That’s a bloody funny thing to ask.’ She drained her glass, refilled it. ‘You’re a real cynic, aren’t you?’
‘I’m old enough to understand life a little.’
‘And I’m older than you so I understand more. Which means I know you didn’t haul Rino in here just to ask him if he could help you. You reckon he knows something important. What?’
‘In any investigation, one hears things that have to be checked out.’
‘So what things have you been checking out?’
‘Several small matters.’
‘Are you going to name them?’
‘No.’
‘You’re a stubborn bastard!’
‘We have a saying, When a mule has a Mallorquin owner, it is the mule which swears … Perhaps you will confirm that on the Sunday afternoon on which Señora Ogden disappeared, Señor Ruffolo –’
‘I told you.’
‘You are positive that he was with you then and throughout the Monday?’
‘Yes.’ She hesitated, then said: ‘Is he in trouble?’
‘If he has told me the truth, no.’
‘He’s made me happy.’
‘As I have said before, that is all that’s important in any relationship.’
‘If people have been blacking him, it’s only because they’re really getting at me.’
‘Why should they do that?’
‘They’re angry that someone like me should be able to lead the life I do. And also because they’re scared I can pick out the frauds. Back home, most of ’em were in ordinary jobs, leading ordinary lives, yet out here you’d think they ran the country. So if they get the chance to sneer at me, they give themselves a lift up.’
‘If they are so unfriendly, doesn’t it make life very unpleasant for you?’
‘No.’
‘Because you can live in this house which is so much bigger than theirs; you can give parties so much more splendid than they can; they profess to despise you, yet lack the character to refuse to enjoy the kind of hospitality they cannot afford?’
She emptied her glass once more, refilled it. ‘You’re beginning to scare me. My body is available when that suits me, but I like to keep my mind strictly to myself.’
* * *
Keane opened the front door of the bungalow in Ca’n Ximor. He said lightly: ‘As predicted, the penny returns.’
Alvarez failed to make any sense of that, but was certain no compliment was intended. He followed the other through to the pool patio where Cora was seated at the table on which were two glasses and a small bowl of stuffed olives. When she saw him, her expression became disturbed.
‘An old friend honouring us with a visit,’ Keane said.
She mumbled a welcome.
He turned to Alvarez. ‘You will undoubtedly join us in a drink?’
He had spoken, Alvarez thought, pleasantly enough, yet it was impossible to escape the impression that behind the words lay sarcasm. ‘Thank you; a little coñac with ice would be very pleasant.’
Keane returned into the house. Cora cleared her throat, did this a second time. She tried to smile, but her expression was almost a grimace. ‘Have you managed to…’ She stopped.
‘Unfortunately, señora, I have been able to make very little progress in the case. I am hoping your husband will be able to help me.’
‘But he can’t. You must understand, he can’t.’
As she finished speaking, Keane came through the doorway, a glass in his right hand. ‘Who can’t do what?’
‘You can’t help the inspector because you don’t know anything.’
Keane handed Alvarez the glass. ‘I rather thought I’d made that clear at our last meeting.’ He sat. ‘But perhaps the art of succ
essful detection lies in repeatedly asking the same question until one receives the answer one wants. So what answer would you like from me now?’
‘I should prefer to hear the truth.’
‘The truth about what?’
‘Your relationship with Señora Ogden.’
‘He’s told you before, there wasn’t one,’ Cora said, her voice high.
‘That’s not the answer he seeks,’ said Keane. ‘So it’ll only provoke the same question yet again.’
‘I don’t understand…’
‘Because you suffer the grave disadvantage of an innocent mind. The inspector is clearly convinced that I lusted after Sabrina, but she scornfully rejected my advances; that in my jealous, angry resentment, I decided that if I could not enjoy her favours, no one else would get the chance.’
‘You’re not saying he thinks you … Oh, my God! That’s impossible.’
‘Every detective is trained to believe two impossibilities each day before breakfast.’
She faced Alvarez. ‘Can’t you understand, my husband didn’t even like her?’
‘Señora, I have been told differently. You and your husband were friendly with Señora Ogden until he said something to her that caused her immediately to break off the friendship; indeed, she was so upset, she would not repeat even to Señor Ogden what had been said.’
Cora swung round to face Keane. ‘Tell him that’s just not true.’
Seeking reassurance? Alvarez wondered.
Keane spoke in a typically oblique manner. ‘There’s no need. Anyone who knew Sabrina could be certain she was incapable of such verbal restraint.’
‘The señora,’ Alvarez said, ‘was silent because she feared that if her husband learned what you had said, he would become so angry there would be serious trouble.’
‘Pistols for two, breakfast for one? Not Bevis’s scene unless, of course, he could be certain my pistol would misfire.’
‘The inference has to be that he would be outraged because you had made an immoral suggestion to his wife.’
‘No!’ Cora cried. ‘Clive couldn’t do such a thing.’
‘Your support is heart-warming,’ Keane said, ‘but sadly it’s unlikely to carry the weight in the inspector’s eyes because a wife’s evidence is so often false, intended either to attack or defend her husband.’
An Enigmatic Disappearance Page 12
