Alvarez managed to bring a verbal end to their troubles when he said: ‘This was why you borrowed money from Señor Gill?’
Kiernan had a high forehead and a beaky nose and astonishment disarranged his features so that his face became gnome-like. ‘How . . . How do you know we did?’
His wife reached over and gripped his hand.
‘I found your IOU amongst the señor’s papers. Officials will want to know if you accept the debt.’
‘You said you’re a detective. So why are you asking about that?’ Her face was heavily lined, her complexion poor and childbearing had left her dumpy. Time had not been kind to her.
‘Steady on, Nell,’ Kiernan said.
‘I’m sure there’s something more to the question than there seems to be.’
She had a sharp mind, Alvarez noted. ‘The amount of the IOU is for ten thousand pounds. Did you receive that money from Señor Gill?’
She answered, making it clear she usually fought their battles. ‘We were having trouble meeting the mortgage repayments on this flat which was why he lent us the money.’
‘When was this, señora?’
Her rate of speaking quickened. ‘We were in trouble. Without enough money to continue living here, it had become a nightmare.’
He hated his job when it exposed the misery of others.
Kiernan spoke bitterly. ‘It reached the point where it seemed the only thing to do was walk into the sea and drown.’
‘And I told him, I’d rather we had to live in a debtors’ prison than be without each other,’ she said fiercely. ‘Robin met me in the village and said I looked terrible and was there anything he could do to help. I . . . I tried to control myself, but couldn’t when he asked what was making me so miserable. I couldn’t stop myself, even though he’d think I was asking him for money because he was rich. He listened, said life could be easier for us if we had no mortgage and could repay capital when we were in a position to do so, asked how much was owing, said he’d lend it to us. When I returned here, I was so excited as I told Tim, but he . . .’
‘Being a bloody fool,’ Kiernan said, ‘I was more concerned with the humiliation of borrowing money than with the tremendous mental relief he was offering Nell.’
She continued. ‘It took ages to persuade Tim that it really wouldn’t be all that different from borrowing from a bank.’
‘Because it was nothing of the sort. Robin was a friend. In the end, I agreed we’d borrow from him, provided we could repay regularly, and said I’d get a notario to draw up whatever papers he thought necessary. He told me there was no need to make a notario richer than he already was, I could give him a simple IOU.
‘The first time I repaid him, I asked him what interest I was to add. He was hurt that I should expect him to ask for any interest.’
‘How much did you repay, how often, when was the first repayment?’
‘Started in January and it was the maximum we could find, five hundred a month. Then the fourth time I went to pay another month’s amount, he . . . he said I wasn’t to repay any more.’
She spoke shrilly. ‘And now you’re certain Tim’s lying, aren’t you, Inspector? You can’t believe anyone could be so generous. And because he’s dead, he can’t . . . Oh my God!’
‘What is it, Nell?’ Kiernan asked.
‘He’s wondering if you or I killed him to avoid the debt.’
‘For God’s sake . . . Inspector, I’m sorry for that. My wife is very upset.’
She ignored her husband. ‘He’s a detective, trying to find out who did kill Robin. Would he give a damn about the IOU unless he thought it was significant? Can’t you see that?’
‘The inspector has said nothing about Robin’s death.’
‘No. So that we’d talk more freely.’
Alvarez spoke sadly. ‘Señora, please understand it is my job to consider all possibilities.’
‘You don’t deny you’re wondering if we killed him?’
‘It had to be a possibility.’
‘Had or has?’
‘Did Señor Gill give you receipts for the repayments you made?’
Kiernan answered. ‘No.’
‘Since you had given an IOU, you did not think it might be an idea to have evidence of your repayments?’
‘It seemed . . . If I asked for a receipt, it could be because I didn’t trust him even after he had been so kind.’
‘Did you repay by cheque?’
‘He preferred cash.’
‘What’s that matter?’ she said wildly.
‘Señor’s Gill’s bank statements would have provided proof of the repayments.’
‘And if there was that proof? You wouldn’t think we might have killed him to prevent further repayments? You’d continue suspecting us. How I wish to God we’d never accepted the money; Tim was right to want to refuse it. Better to have slunk home and lived on charity than to be suspected of murdering someone who was so incredibly kind.’
A noble thought. But like most noble thoughts, either impossible, too illogical, or calling on too much self-sacrifice to be implemented. ‘Mrs Kiernan, can either you or your husband tell me where you were at midday on the fourth?’
They looked at each other. Kiernan answered. ‘We can’t afford to do much, so we must have been here.’
‘Have you friends or anyone who could corroborate that you were?’
‘When time means so little, who’s going to be certain enough for you to believe?’ she asked.
Alvarez thanked them for their help and left, saddened by the certainty he had brought them fresh fear.
He sat at his desk and watched motes dancing in the broad shaft of sunshine. Had the Kiernans been telling the truth? Or did they think him sufficiently stupid to believe he would accept their story that they were lent, and later given, the remaining eight thousand pounds for no reason other than sympathy?
She was the driving force. If Gill had never cancelled the debt, would she have proposed his murder in order to get rid of a debt that remained difficult to meet and, as the cost of living rose, perhaps impossible?
He judged her to be an ordinary wife; ordinary wives, however strong-willed, did not plan murders. Yet would Salas accept his judgment? Of course not.
Accept the Kiernans had been telling the truth. How to prove this when there was an undestroyed IOU and no records of repayments? . . . Perhaps there could be a negative record . . .
He checked the phone number of the accountant who occasionally worked for the cuerpo and dialled it. A secretary said Señor Ibarra was very busy; after he had introduced himself, Ibarra was not too busy to talk to him.
They exchanged family news before Alvarez said: ‘I want you to come along to Aquila and examine bank statements over three months of this year. It’s important to know if there are signs of regular reductions until a short period when there was none.’
‘When d’you want me there?’
‘How about now?’
‘Not possible. This afternoon?’
‘It’s Saturday.’
‘You suggested this was an urgent matter.’
‘But not priority.’
‘Since I don’t work on a Sunday, it had better be Monday, nine o’clock.’
‘Ten. It takes time to drive up to the house.’
‘Shall I pick you up on the way?’
‘Thanks, but I can’t be certain where I’ll be before ten.’ Ibarra drove a sports car with a long bonnet and the exhaust noise of a mad buffalo. He had won the local hill climb one year, crashed the next. The thought of being driven on roads edged with death by a would-be racing driver was worse than that of driving himself.
‘A pleasure to see you again, Inspector,’ Parra said.
A hint of mockery because he had intended to change his cotton shorts after he had spilled coffee on them, but had obviously forgotten? ‘How is the señorita?’
‘Perhaps a little better. She will be glad to see you.’
Parra’s regular
greeting. And probably to every other guest since he understood the art of making one feel one was of importance to someone else.
Mary was sitting on the main patio, in the shade of a sun umbrella. She smiled her greeting. ‘Your arrival gives me the excuse to put down this book and shut it.’ She placed it down on the patio table. ‘I was told I must read it by the literary lioness of the village, who boasts of having read Remembrance of Things Past in the original. She called yesterday to pry and gave the book to me because it had won a prestigious literary prize. There’s nothing on the cover about a prize, but it’s sufficiently leaden to have won one . . . Why are you still standing?’
‘I haven’t been asked to sit.’ He sat. Parra had been right – she was more cheerful.
‘Now, Enrique, you can tell me why I’m being honoured?’
‘Would you not prefer to say, hounded? I wanted you to know I’ll be along tomorrow with an accountant. I’ve asked him to look through some of your uncle’s papers. Hopefully, he won’t be here long.’
‘More problems?’
‘I’m not certain. Just checking up to see if there are.’
‘Sounds complicated . . . I do so wish it was all over.’
‘I’m doing all I can.’
‘As well I know. From the awful beginning, you’ve been a real friend. God knows how I’d have got through everything without your help.’
‘It was nothing.’
‘The standard Mallorquin answer to every thank you, which makes me think of false modesty . . . Damn! I’ve made it sound as if you’re being falsely modest . . . A quick change of subject. Why haven’t you said what you’ll drink?’
‘Because you haven’t asked.’
‘Which makes me a very poor hostess.’
‘And me a very poor guest since I was wondering why I hadn’t been asked.’
‘Were you? We must set your mind at rest. Would you be kind enough to call Pablo? The button’s there.’ She pointed.
He pressed the call button set in a small piece of circular pottery in the house wall and returned to his chair. ‘I’ve been meaning to ask you something.’
‘Now it’s confession time? You didn’t come here to see me and tell me about tomorrow, you came to ask more horrible questions.’
‘You misjudge me.’
Parra came out on to the patio. ‘Yes, señorita?’
‘I’d like a lady’s gin and tonic and the inspector will say what he wants.’
‘Coñac with just ice, Inspector?’
‘Yes, please,’ Alvarez replied. Was Parra trying to show Mary how smart he was? Parra left. Alvarez said: ‘What is a lady’s gin and tonic?’
‘Twice the tonic and half the gin of a gentleman’s. Now you can tell me why I was misjudging you.’
‘By inferring I wouldn’t have come here unless I had to.’
‘If there were no questions, you could have phoned and told me about the accountant.’
‘Which would have meant my missing this meeting.’
‘You don’t fool me. You’ve a so-far undeclared reason. All right, what are the questions?’
‘At the time, did you know your uncle was lending the Kiernans a considerable sum of money?’
‘I did. He mentioned them one day, said he thought they were a very pleasant couple who were in a nasty financial mess. What did I think of his lending them enough to pay off their mortgage? I said, do it.’
‘Did he later tell you he had done so?’
‘No.’
‘Did he mention that after they’d repaid him a little of the money, he told them not to repay any more?’
‘No. And you sound kind of disbelieving. About the gift or the secrecy? As for the gift, Robin was a very generous man, as I’ve every reason to know. He liked them and was happy he could help them. As to my not knowing, one of his favourite slanders was that a woman’s tongue proved perpetual motion was possible.’
‘But he never confirmed that he had made them that gift?’
‘Why do you keep asking?’
‘Because as I told you, the IOU is still in the safe.’
‘He’ll just have forgotten to tear it up.’
‘He could be that forgetful?’
‘By his account, no, by mine, yes.’
‘And a gift of that quantity doesn’t surprise you?’
‘It obviously does you . . . For me, it does not, not, not!’
Parra came out of the house, tray in hand, as she spoke. ‘Is something the matter, señorita?’
‘Merely expressing my negative opinion in triplicate.’
Parra put glasses and a bowl of cheese straws on the table, and returned indoors. Alvarez picked up his glass. ‘Do you know the Kiernans well?’
‘Reasonably so. Nell has more in her head than most wives out here and possibly will even be able to enjoy reading this.’ She touched the book. ‘If she can help someone, she does. Which is why it was great that Robin was able to help her.’
‘What about Timothy Kiernan?’
She began to revolve her glass between first finger and thumb. The ice clinked against the side. ‘It’s become the expat’s habit to kiss on both cheeks when meeting a female friend. I could never nerve myself to let him, so he gained the impression I disliked him. I couldn’t find the courage to explain.’
‘Would you consider him in any way a violent man?’
‘In every way, it’s no, no, no again. It’s Nell who wears the trousers and fights with authority.’
‘Could she be violent?’
‘You do have a very strange mind and I don’t think I’d like to look inside it.’ She drank. ‘That’s being rude again and I didn’t mean to be.’
‘I have to consider many strange possibilities in order to discard them.’
‘Why on earth think either of them could be violent? Or are you wondering if . . .’ She spoke sharply. ‘If you’re thinking either of them could have hurt Robin, you’re sick!’
He soon left. The warm friendliness, her newly found carefree manner had disappeared when she had guessed the reason for his questions.
He parked in a forbidden space in the old square, left his car and crossed to Club Llueso. Roca noticed him enter, poured a drink and brought it along the bar to where he stood. ‘You look like you’ve been kicked where it hurts. So I’ve poured a double double. But don’t let on or you’ll have me sacked.’
SIXTEEN
‘I’ve often wondered what this place is like,’ Ibarra said as he stood by his car and gazed at Barca and beyond. ‘A Mallorquin Mount Olympus.’
It was to be hoped the gods did not suffer from vertigo, Alvarez thought. ‘I want to check I made myself clear over the phone and you understood me. Señor Gill may have been paid fifteen hundred euros during the three months before his death. There’s no written record of this and there was only a relatively small amount of cash in the safe. I’m wondering if there was a break in regular withdrawals from whichever bank he used to cover the costs of running this place which could suggest he was briefly in receipt of an extra income in cash.’
‘Difficult unless he withdrew weekly, or fortnightly, to meet staff wages and house costs.’
‘I think he was a man who would have done so.’
‘We’ll find out.’
Parra opened the front door. ‘Good morning, señors. A welcome fine, sunny day.’
As it had been for weeks, Alvarez silently and sourly commented. Soon, there would be the first rain. What would Parra’s greeting be then? A welcome rainy day? ‘Is the señorita in the sitting room?’
‘She has asked that you go up to the late señor’s library and carry out whatever work it is you have to do.’
‘I’ll say hullo first.’
‘The señorita has said she does not wish to be disturbed.’
‘She is ill?’
‘As far as I know, she is well.’
Parra had spoken without his usual assumed deference. Because he was aware that the inspector�
�s departure the previous evening had been a shamefaced one? People with small minds liked to see authority mocked or denied.
‘Will you need the keys to the safe, Inspector?’
‘Yes.’
‘Then I will hand them to you.’
‘You have them?’
‘The señorita handed them to me before your arrival. She will be grateful if you will return them to me before you leave.’
They went into the library. Alvarez swung back the section of bookcase, unlocked the safe, brought out bank statements and paying-in notices, and placed these on the desk. Ibarra had been looking along the lines of books. ‘A well-read man.’
‘I imagine so.’
‘Most of these have obviously been opened and read, unlike those in many private libraries, there to impress.’ Ibarra turned round. ‘Is everything ready?’
‘I think so.’
‘One point you haven’t covered is whether you want my report to be ready for the court?’
‘That would be best.’ Since Ibarra would have to do the work, it seemed more reasonable to be prepared for all possibilities.
He was becoming concerned they would not be leaving in good time for lunch when Ibarra crossed to where he sat. ‘There’s reason to accept he was paid largish sums in cash on three occasions, at monthly intervals.’
‘I’m glad.’ Which was a ridiculous thing to say since, as he immediately recognized, once again a theory of his had been proved wrong.
He returned everything to the safe, and locked it. They left the library, he crossed to the sitting room and went in. Mary was watching the television. ‘I have the safe keys . . .’
‘Will you return them to Pablo, please.’
‘You’ll be very glad to know . . .’
‘I’ll call him, so that he’ll be waiting at the front door and you won’t be delayed in your efforts to blacken more innocent people.’ She depressed a bell push by her side.
A Question of Motive Page 15
