A Question of Motive

by Roderic Jeffries

  ‘Arrant hypocrisy.’

  ‘Surely no one in high authority would accept that a mere inspector would dare to make the false accusation that his senior would seek promotion by the back door or that he had ever stepped into a brothel, let alone run one? It is against all experience and common sense; a sparrow does not challenge an eagle.’

  ‘It pleases you to indulge in feather-brained stupidity?’ Salas said, before ringing off.

  Alvarez stepped into the entrada, determined to gird up his loins like a man. Unfortunately, he felt ungirded.

  In the sitting room, Jaime sat at the table, bottle and glass in front of himself. Alvarez sat and brought a glass out of the sideboard. Something worried him until he realized no sounds came from the kitchen. ‘Isn’t she here again?’ He poured himself a drink.

  ‘Went out to buy something she needed. Wanted me to get it. Like I told her, shopping is a woman’s job.’

  ‘You said it in those words?’

  ‘Maybe not exactly.’

  ‘Was she annoyed when I rang to say I couldn’t get back to lunch?’

  ‘Kept on about feeding the dogs. I told her, it was me who wanted something to eat.’

  ‘What was the meal?’

  ‘Can’t rightly remember . . . Why do you keep annoying her?’ Jaime asked, with sudden anger. ‘Then it’s me who gets it in the neck. I don’t do this, I don’t do that. Women can’t understand a man needs to rest when he gets back worn out from work.’

  Alvarez produced a packet of Ducados and offered it.

  ‘They’re the best you could get?’

  ‘The best I could afford, not being a politician on the fiddle.’

  Jaime drew a cigarette out of the pack. As he struck a match and held it out for Alvarez, he heard the front door open. He hurriedly refilled his glass with his free hand.

  Dolores came through from the entrada. She spoke to Alvarez. ‘We are to have the pleasure of your company at supper?’

  ‘I’m sorry about lunch . . .’

  ‘Was it the President of the Commission who could not be denied your presence at lunch?’ She swept into the kitchen and banged a saucepan to express her feelings.

  ‘She’s in another mood because of you,’ Jaime muttered.

  Alvarez wondered if sweet words might lessen her annoyance? He went through to the kitchen. ‘I’m very sorry, but I didn’t know what I should do.’

  ‘Even when a man does, he doesn’t do it.’ She began to shell peas.

  ‘Naturally I wanted to return, but I felt I had to stay and give what little help I could.’

  ‘She needed her back covered in suntan cream?’

  ‘Who do you think I was with?’

  ‘A young woman, probably English or French, insufficiently experienced to realize that the interest of a much older man is not paternal in nature.’

  ‘I was with Mary Farren at Aquila. I had to question her again which made her very depressed. I felt guilty because of this and when she asked me to stay, I decided I simply had to provide what comfort I could. There are times when one has to sacrifice oneself.’

  ‘Why did you not explain when you phoned me?’

  ‘She would have heard what I said. Had she known I was staying against my wish, was doing so only for her sake, she would have become even more depressed.’

  She began to fine-chop three teeth of garlic.

  ‘Would you have had me desert her at such a time?’

  ‘You ask a foolish question. Did she offer you food?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Was it a reasonable meal?’

  ‘Sadly, I had to eat a Chinese takeaway.’

  She carefully added the garlic to the contents of an earthenware pot. ‘I have heard there are such things for foreigners.’

  ‘Mallorquins eat them.’

  ‘In preference to a meal cooked at home?’

  ‘Not everyone is so dedicated to the family as you are.’

  ‘Perhaps. But then I was brought up to believe, mistakenly, that a woman’s pleasure was to ensure the family was content. Of course, in those days there were men who still understood the meaning of gratitude.’

  ‘Jaime and I can’t sufficiently express our gratitude for all you do for us.’

  ‘Which is, perhaps, why you never do.’ She lowered the gas under the pot. ‘You enjoyed this meal?’

  ‘How could I when I was missing the meal cooked by you. Perhaps supper will compensate me?’

  ‘It is nothing special. But maybe for lunch tomorrow, I will cook Ternera a la Jardinera.’

  Veal, stock, ham, shallots, carrots, potatoes, peas and spices. On paper, a mere recipe, in truth, a gourmet’s dream. He expressed his delight at the prospect. He returned to the sitting room, picked up his glass and drank. In the kitchen, Dolores began to sing about a young woman whose young man had returned from afar and finally made his feelings known.

  ‘She’s calmed right down as you can hear. It’s thanks to what I told her,’ Alvarez said.

  ‘You wouldn’t need to say anything if you came back here when you should,’ Jaime said ill-temperedly.

  The gateway might have been guarding a castle rather than a very large, modern house of little visual charm; the garden was extensive, but too well manicured and a waste of land since only flowers and shrubs were grown; the infinity swimming pool seemed almost of an infinite size; in front of the garage was a Jaguar, and visible inside, a Volvo. At least there was no helicopter landing pad.

  Alvarez climbed the four tiled steps, stepped into the pillared patio and activated the bell push to the right of the panelled wooden front door. This was opened by a man in his late thirties who wore the traditional white shirt and dark trousers of service. He studied Alvarez, noted the well-worn clothing, the unshaven chin, and his expression pictured the contempt a servant in a rich home often had for a member of the proletariat. ‘Yes?’

  ‘Is Señor Phillips here?’ Alvarez asked in Mallorquin.

  There was a slight pause. ‘I do not know if he is at home.’

  ‘Then you can find out.’

  There was a call in English. ‘Who is it, Joders?’

  ‘I am about to find out, señor,’ he answered in the same language.

  An internal door was shut.

  ‘If that was Señor Phillips, you don’t need to find out if he is in.’

  ‘It will be best if you leave.’

  ‘Best for whom?’

  ‘Do you want trouble?’

  ‘I am always meeting trouble from Mallorquins who have learned their manners from foreigners. My name is Inspector Alvarez, Cuerpo General de Policia.’

  ‘I fear I didn’t recognize you, Inspector. If you had said who you were . . .’

  ‘You would not have decided I was a mendicant? As I said, I want to speak to Señor Phillips.’

  ‘Of course, Inspector. Please come into the green room and I will tell the señor you are here.’

  The hall was large and over-furnished; the green room was not very green and expensively over-furnished. Through the windows, the mountains were visible – with the bright sunshine covering them, they appeared light grey, speckled with the green of pine trees which performed the impossible by growing on their slopes.

  Phillips entered the room. He spoke pugnaciously in English, his voice carrying clipped tones as he spoke with care. ‘Joders says you’re some sort of policeman. What brings you here?’

  He was a large man with a round, sharply featured face, a mouth which looked hard enough to crack walnuts, square shoulders, broad chest, only the hint of a stomach, and hairy legs below the shorts.

  The delay in an immediate answer annoyed Phillips. ‘You don’t understand English. Typical! None of you people do.’

  He decided not to point out that in Spain, one spoke Castilian, Catalan, Galician, Euskara or Mallorquin. ‘I speak a little English, señor.’

  ‘Then you can explain why you’re interrupting my morning?’

  ‘I wish t
o ask you some questions.’

  ‘Some other time. I have guests.’

  ‘I fear it must be now.’

  ‘What the devil! You come here and think you can order me about?’

  He did think so and it would be a pleasure. Phillips not only considered he was speaking to a man from an inferior race, he was also a natural bully. ‘I have questions which you will need to answer.’

  ‘Don’t think you can speak to me like that . . .’ Phillips stopped as his wife entered.

  ‘Marcelo told me someone was here.’ She studied Alvarez.

  ‘We are not on Christian-name terms with our servants.’

  ‘It seems more friendly.’

  ‘They are not paid for their friendship.’

  Alvarez coughed to remind them he was present.

  ‘Is he . . .?’

  ‘Says he’s some sort of policeman.’

  ‘Something’s wrong?’

  She was younger than her husband by many years. Her black hair was styled, her make-up possessed the quality of not being apparent, even to his ignorant eyes, her dress was of top quality, the diamond brooch on her right bosom sparkled as she moved, and the diamond of her engagement ring in size matched many of those in the safe at Aquila. ‘I am here to ask a few questions, señora.’

  ‘I’ll handle this,’ Phillips said. ‘There’s no need to stay. Best get back to Bill and Thelma.’

  She left.

  ‘Are you going to explain why you wish to ask questions?’ Phillips demanded.

  ‘Have you heard about the unfortunate death of Señor Gill?’

  ‘Naturally. With all the tittle-tattle, how could I not?’

  ‘Although his death might have been an accident, there is now reason to believe it might not.’

  ‘You are trying to say he was murdered?’

  ‘At the moment, that is possible.’

  ‘But, typically, you don’t know.’

  ‘Matters are not straightforward.’

  ‘They never are on this island. You still haven’t explained why you’re here.’

  ‘We’re speaking to people who may be able to help us determine the cause of his death.’

  ‘Fell a couple of hundred feet on to rock. That is not cause enough? You’re wasting my time by coming here.’

  ‘Why is that?’

  ‘I have no idea how or why he died?’

  ‘But you had reason to dislike him.’

  ‘Ridiculous! Do you mind leaving right away?’

  ‘I have more questions.’

  ‘I have just explained why any question to me is meaningless.’

  ‘In the past, you were very rude to his friends.’

  ‘This is becoming farcical.’

  ‘You invited Señor and Señora Carson to a party, then rang them to say you’d asked too many people and they were not to come.’

  ‘What if I did?’

  ‘You cannot understand they were insulted?’

  ‘They were lucky to be invited in the first case. Making up numbers.’

  ‘Señor Gill was troubled by your action.’

  ‘None of his damned business.’

  ‘To him, it showed you were not the person you tried to make out you were.’

  ‘I am not going to listen to any more of this nonsense. Clear out of my house.’

  ‘I will leave when I am finished.’

  ‘If you’re still here in a couple of minutes, I’ll have the staff throw you out.’

  ‘You will find them very unwilling to do so, as you should be.’

  ‘You’d better understand I’m very friendly with many important people.’

  ‘However important, they will not interfere with a judicial investigation. Is it fact that Señor Gill learned you had not inherited a large estate which you sold very profitably, you had made your money from pornography?’

  ‘A vicious lie.’

  ‘Señor Gill had not intended the facts to become public because he was too good-natured to wish on you the derision and contempt they must cause. But the facts were broadcast by someone else. You thought you had reason to hate Señor Gill.’

  ‘Who’s been telling you all these damned lies? That halfwitted niece who runs if you get near her?’

  ‘You are referring to Señorita Farren? Your judgement is as erroneous as it is slanderous.’

  ‘You think I’ll have a village policeman talk to me like that?’

  ‘I thought I had already done so. And I have not finished. Can you explain why, if you did inherit your wealth and did not make it from pornography, you did not take legal steps to squash the rumour?’

  ‘I don’t give a damn what the cloth-caps think.’

  ‘Because of the circumstances, I will speak to the English police and ask them to confirm or deny what you claim. Should they find you were lucratively engaged in the pornographic trade, they may be interested in knowing whether you declared your income to the tax officials and how you transferred so large a sum here, as you must have done. Was it moved legally or illegally, since you did not wish there to be evidence of your earnings? Where were you on Friday, the fourth of this month?’

  ‘I don’t know or bloody well care.’

  ‘It is in your interests to be concerned if you do not wish to be suspected of the death of Señor Gill.’

  ‘This is too absurd to be possible.’

  ‘I should like an answer?’

  ‘You’ll wait a goddam long time.’

  ‘Señor, would you prefer to be brought to the post in Llueso?’

  ‘You . . . You’d arrest me? Me?’ Phillips’ emotion had become bewildered surprise. A varlet threatening the lord of the manor?

  Alvarez finally said: ‘You will report to the Guardia post in Llueso – which is where I work – at eighteen hundred hours this afternoon.’

  ‘Like hell I will.’

  ‘If you are not there by eighteen thirty, I will send two policia to escort you.’

  The door opened and Gertrude Phillips entered. ‘How much longer are you going to be? Thelma’s wondering what you’re up to and I can’t tell her the police are here or she’ll spread even worse rumours than she usually does.’

  ‘He . . . he’s threatening to arrest me.’

  ‘Nonsense!’

  ‘Señora, if your husband persists in refusing to answer me, he must come to the post, either on his own or in the company of the policia. Even English gentlemen have to obey Spanish law.’

  ‘I intend to report you for your ridiculous and insulting behaviour.’

  ‘Your complaint may bring joy to my superior, but it cannot alter the need for the señor to answer me.’

  ‘What is the question?’

  ‘Where was your husband on the fourth of this month?’

  ‘Valletta.’

  ‘In Malta?’

  ‘You imagine it to be in Katmandu?’

  He spoke to Phillips. ‘Can you prove you were there at that date?’

  ‘You think I’m lying?’ she demanded shrilly.

  ‘You could be, señora.’

  ‘Did you hear that? He called me a liar.’

  ‘No,’ Alvarez contradicted. ‘I merely observed that it had to be possible.’

  ‘Don’t you argue with me. I heard you. It’s quite outrageous.’

  ‘You are excited, señora, so it will be best if I leave. Señor, you will be at the post at eighteen hundred hours.’

  Phillips muttered, ‘Anything to end this farce. We were on a short Mediterranean cruise.’

  ‘You can prove that?’

  ‘Are you calling him a liar as well?’ she screamed. ‘Frank, call the consul and tell him we’re being victimized by the local police.’

  ‘I’d better show him what we have.’

  ‘Ignore him.’

  ‘It may succeed in his leaving.’

  She flounced out of the room.

  Minutes later, Alvarez was shown the receipt for the cost of the cruise, a couple of dated menus, and
a receipt for money changed in Malta.

  ELEVEN

  Phone to his ear, Alvarez waited. The day was hotter than ever, and the fan was turning at its quickest yet offering little relief; the promised installation of air-conditioning had never happened. As always, a bureaucratic promise was just words.

  Typically, Salas did not bother to offer a pleasant greeting. ‘Yes?’

  ‘I have just spoken to Señor Phillips, señor.’

  ‘Who is I?’

  Alvarez wondered if the superior chief was beginning to suffer from mental problems. ‘I think you are Superior Chief Salas.’

  ‘You negate the belief that speech enables there to be mutual comprehension. What the devil do you mean by that?’

  ‘But you said, “Who is I?”’

  ‘If, for some totally obscure reason I had been asking you who I was, I would have said, “Who am I?” A moment of common sense would have told you that I was attempting, yet again, to make you understand that you should have identified yourself.’

  ‘In the past, you have blamed me for wasting your time by giving my name when your secretary had already told you who was phoning.’

  ‘And if she was unable to do so, I would know who was calling by telepathy?’

  ‘She forgot?’

  ‘Try not to judge others by yourself. Before she could inform me, something occurred with which she had to deal immediately. Explain why you are phoning and start at the beginning, not the middle or the end.’

  ‘I have been questioning Señor Phillips. Initially he was very obstructive, as was his wife. They thought because they were English, they did not have to observe the laws of Spain.’

  ‘You made their error very clear?’

  ‘Yes, señor. And this had the effect of causing them to become aggressively rude although he has claimed to be a gentleman.’

  ‘That gave reason to be surprised?’

  ‘They are known to be very well mannered.’

  ‘Pure myth.’

  ‘They were also completely honest. Hence, the word of an English gentleman. Perhaps since the invasion by the tourists that has little meaning, but before then, it was used and accepted as an unbreakable promise.’

  ‘Has there ever been such a thing on this island?’

  ‘Have you not heard of the Duc de Mora?’

  ‘No. And you will not . . .’

  ‘He lived in the days when a great landowner had almost total authority over his tenants. The Duc had invited an English milord, who spoke good Castilian, but no Mallorquin since that was not for milords, to his grand mansion. But the Duc was suddenly ordered to Madrid and when the English milord arrived, he was not there. The staff explained what had happened and that the Duc hoped the Englishman would remain as he expected to return very soon. The Englishman might have been a milord, but he had a heart. One day, he was walking when he saw a young woman weeping as she used a mattock to make irrigation channels in the soil. He asked her what was the matter. She knew she should be silent because the Duc would be furious to learn she had spoken, but she could not remain quiet. The Duc had accepted her father as a new tenant and had very recently seen her for the first time. He told her she was beautiful, like a virginal rose, and she must join the staff in the mansion and not lose her beauty working on the land in the sun, wind, and rain. She knew what that meant – he would seduce her and then cast her aside. Because the Duc was a man who always had what he wanted, she could be certain that if she defied him, he would throw her father off the land. Times were very hard, the land was still in the hands of very wealthy men, so it would be almost impossible for her father to find another tenancy. Her family would be reduced to starvation. To save them, she must sacrifice herself; but then she would never marry because she would have become dishonoured.