The orderly spun Jonathan’s wheelchair through 180 degrees, ready to reverse him through the heavy swing doors of ward B21. It was then Jonathan saw Alfonso running up the corridor toward them, dressed in full bike leathers.
“An angel in leather!” Jonathan pronounced, throwing his arms wide in supplication. “I do hope you’re wearing a harness and jock under that wonderful outfit.”
The doors to the ward swung closed on them as the orderly pulled the wheelchair inside. He swiveled it around and pushed the chair alongside one of the beds. As Jonathan stood up and prepared to climb in, the doors of the ward opened again, and Alfonso strode in.
“Good evening, my injured Englishman!” said Alfonso in a loud whisper. “Now, don’t you cause these nice people any trouble, or I will bring the full force of the law upon you.”
“Oh, I do hope so,” said Jonathan, his leg lifted in readiness to get into the bed. “I have nothing to protect me except this hospital gown, which, as you can see, has full rear ventilation and offers total access.” Jonathan gave the flimsy gown a flick, like a coquettish debutante at a dance, before settling himself into the bed.
Alfonso grinned and stood at the end of the bed. He watched as a male nurse came over and checked Jonathan’s charts. The nurse turned and started talking to Alfonso in Spanish. After a few moments, they both laughed, and Jonathan sat up in bed.
“What are you two saying?” asked Jonathan. “I know you’re talking about me, and I insist on nothing but flattery.”
“Apparently you’re not going to be able to keep this evening’s events quiet,” said Alfonso. “Luis here is an avid follower of Noticias de Rosa online. One of their journalists was at XXL this evening. You’re already headline news on their website.”
Jonathan threw himself back on the pillow and groaned.
“This is terrible. I just hope it stays in the Spanish version only. I couldn’t bear it if Dominic gets to hear about it.”
He sat up suddenly.
“Alfonso. Please, do whatever you can to find my husband. His name is—”
“Dominic Delingpole. You’ve told me ten times at least. Don’t worry. I’m sure it won’t be difficult. And anyway, he’ll be looking for you, I’m sure.”
Jonathan threw himself back onto the pillow once more. “Not after the way I’ve behaved tonight. If he’s got any sense, he’ll catch the first flight home in the morning and file for divorce immediately.” He put his fist up to his forehead and squeezed his eyes tight shut.
“My friend,” said Alfonso, “have you heard of the Spanish phrase la reina del drama?”
Jonathan opened his eyes and shook his head.
“You should, my friend,” continued Alfonso. “It describes you perfectly.”
DOMINIC’S SHORT walk to the Passeig de la Ribera proved immediately successful in his search for the police. A patrol car from the Policia Local was still parked on the seafront, its two occupants watching with evident boredom as the dwindling trickle of late-night revelers dispersed.
The woman police officer walked back to the apartment with Dominic. She was at least six inches shorter than him, with a round face and a large mouth that frequently broke into a smile as they talked. He discovered her name was Officer Juanita Serrano, and she had learned her excellent English while working as an au pair in Oxford. Dominic was pleased to be able to talk about his home city at length as they walked.
At the entrance to the apartment, Officer Serrano paused and turned to Dominic.
“I’m afraid it’s very easy to break into these holiday apartments. The keys change hands so often, anyone can make a copy. We know the owner. He tells us he changes the keys at the start of each season. But you know”—she shrugged—“I am not sure he does. It’s probably too much effort for him.”
She walked into the living room and looked around. “They’re very tidy burglars,” she said. “They don’t make a mess.”
“You should see the bedroom,” said Dominic glumly. “You’ll have a different view then.”
They walked together to the bedroom, and Officer Serrano stood in the doorway, surveying the scene of devastation. Dominic had left it exactly as he found it twenty minutes before.
“So you say they forced open the safe but chose to ignore your passports, tickets, and your English money?” asked Officer Serrano.
“That’s right,” replied Dominic. “I haven’t checked everything yet. But as far as I can see, they only took our two mobile phones and my laptop.”
Officer Serrano started to make notes. After a few minutes of scribbling, she stopped and turned to Dominic.
“And where is your husband tonight?”
The whole time they had been walking, Dominic had avoided talking about Jonathan with Officer Serrano.
“I’m afraid I don’t know, Officer,” replied Dominic with embarrassment. “We had an argument earlier, and I haven’t seen him for over two hours. I went looking for him, and when I couldn’t find him, I came back, hoping to find him here. Instead”—he looked around—“I found this.”
Dominic sat down on the bed frame with a sigh. “I’m afraid it’s been a terrible evening altogether.”
Officer Serrano remained standing and looked down at Dominic sympathetically.
“Señor Delingpole, I’m sure he’ll come back here soon.” She smiled broadly. “You are on your honeymoon, after all. But I’ll take a note of his details. Just in case his name comes up on any reports overnight.” She paused and then said, “Forgive me asking, and I know you’re on your honeymoon, but have you looked for him in any of the clubs in Sitges?”
Dominic smiled wanly. “Officer Serrano, believe me. I’ve searched all of them tonight.”
ALFONSO THREW his motorbike keys on the marble-topped console table in the hallway and placed his helmet and gauntlets beside them. He turned as Gabriel closed the front door of their apartment and smiled at him.
“So, mi chico,” said Alfonso, “was that the second honeymoon you said you were so looking forward to tonight?”
Gabriel laughed. He placed his own helmet and gloves on the console table and wrapped his arms around Alfonso’s waist.
“No, but I saw a new side of you tonight.”
Alfonso looked quizzically at him. “I do hope it was my good side.”
“Oh yes, a very good side.” He kissed Alfonso tenderly on the lips. “I saw you as a professional tonight, working calmly in a moment of crisis. You are clearly very good at your job, Alfonso. But you also remind me just what a caring man you are. You are even more the man I love than when I first married you.”
Alfonso rested his arms on Gabriel’s shoulders and slowly drew his husband to him in embrace.
“I feel sorry for Jonathan,” said Alfonso. “And also for his man, Dominic. Just think. They’re on their honeymoon, and they have such a terrible argument.” He leaned back against the wall of the hallway and pulled Gabriel to him. “Do you think their marriage will last?”
Gabriel rested his head on Alfonso’s leather jacket and nuzzled his partner’s neck.
“Well, Officer de la Torre, I should remind you, eleven years ago, we nearly didn’t make our own honeymoon because someone….” He looked up at Alfonso with a glint in his eyes. “Someone decided that going on a fruitless manhunt in the Pyrenees was more important than catching our flight to Florida.”
Alfonso held his hands in the air in mock surrender. “Gabriel, in my defense, it was only four months after I’d been fully commissioned into the motorcycle force. It would have looked bad if I didn’t go.”
Gabriel unzipped Alfonso’s jacket, slipped it off his shoulders, and let it fall to the tiled floor. “Do you think the force would have put so much pressure on you to join the manhunt if you’d just got married to a woman?” He tugged at the base of Alfonso’s white T-shirt and pulled it up.
Obediently, Alfonso raised his arms in the air as Gabriel removed the shirt and let it drop to the ground. Alfonso unzipped Gabriel’s
bike jacket and then paused.
“Yes,” said Alfonso. “I think they would. Don’t try to read homophobia where there is none, Gabriel. I remember at the time, Jose Gonzalez was asked to come in from compassionate leave. His wife had just died two days before. And he did come in. There is a strong sense of duty in the force. Which reminds me.”
Alfonso kissed Gabriel once on the mouth, then eased him to one side and strode down the hallway to the kitchen.
Gabriel watched admiringly. “Those leather breeches fit you so well, Officer de la Torre.” He followed Alfonso into the kitchen. “I think you should keep them on for a little while longer. What are you doing?”
Alfonso picked up the phone.
“I’m just going to see if control has any record of a Dominic Delingpole this evening,” he said, rapidly dialing a number. “Maybe he’s filed a missing person report about our friend Jonathan.” He looked back at Gabriel standing in the doorway.
“After that, perhaps you’d like to put a collar on me,” he said with a wink. “It may be late, but it is our second honeymoon tonight.”
Chapter 16
DOMINIC LAY naked on top of the thin bedsheet and stared at the ceiling fan above his head. Its blades created cooling currents in the sultry air of the bedroom. Although exhausted after clearing up the mess of the burglary, Dominic found it impossible to sleep. His mind was full of conflicting thoughts. His honeymoon holiday with Jonathan, which until a few hours earlier had been so blissful and uneventful, was now a nightmare. Jonathan was clearly furious with him. And after what Karl Michael had revealed, Dominic admitted, Jonathan probably had good reason to be angry.
A laptop and both their mobile phones had been stolen. That meant Jonathan had no way of contacting Dominic, assuming Jonathan could remember his phone number in the first place, which Dominic doubted. The impulsive Karl Michael had dredged up awkward memories of events from the past. Dominic had hoped one day he could explain everything to Jonathan, but the time had not yet come. He knew it would be a difficult conversation. He probably was procrastinating, but he wanted to pick the right moment.
Then there was the mysterious text from Bernhardt. Dominic so wished he could recall what it had said exactly. He remembered the phrase “feet of Adam” and some numbers. But he had not attempted to memorize the numbers or the exact words. He felt certain the robbery was connected with Karl Michael. The man had seemed so desperate to retrieve the message from Dominic’s phone. Perhaps he was responsible for the break-in.
But why? Despite their furious argument, Dominic thought he had done his best to reconcile with Karl Michael and part on reasonable terms. So if not him, then who?
Dominic sat up abruptly. The intercom was buzzing. He leaned across to look at the digital clock on the bedside table. It was just after 4:00 a.m. He rolled off the bed and picked up a pair of Jonathan’s sweatpants from the back of a chair. He pulled them on and made his way quickly to answer the door. The buzzer rang again, more insistent and persistent this time.
Dominic picked up the white plastic receiver from the cradle on the wall.
“Hello, who’s there?” he asked.
“This is Officer Alfonso de la Torre from the Guardia Civil. Is that Señor Delingpole?”
DOMINIC FOUND himself very distracted by Alfonso’s handsome features and leather-clad body. The officer stood in the middle of the living room, explaining what had happened to Jonathan. Normally, Dominic was more attracted to fair-haired, blue-eyed men—like Jonathan, in fact. But Alfonso’s short-cropped black hair, long dark eyelashes, and deep brown eyes were extremely appealing. And that figure. The police officer could do with losing a few pounds around the waist, admittedly, but the leather breeches enhanced the curve of his buttocks in a very fetching way.
“Señor Delingpole?”
Dominic realized with a jolt that the officer had asked him a question, and he had no idea what it was.
“I’m so sorry, Officer,” he said with an embarrassed cough. “I was miles away. What did you say?”
“I asked if you would be able to get to the hospital later this morning?” repeated Alfonso. “They don’t normally allow visitors until much later in the day. But I have a day off, so I could meet you there and help get you in to see your husband earlier.”
“That’s very kind, Officer,” replied Dominic. “But you really don’t need to go to all that trouble.”
“Oh, it’s really no trouble, Señor Delingpole. Your husband is a most entertaining man. Although I understand that during the evening, you and he—”
Alfonso stopped, unsure what to say next.
“Yes,” said Dominic, breaking the awkward pause. “We had a bit of a quarrel. Jonathan found out something about me under rather unfortunate circumstances. I’m embarrassed about it, and I feel that I’ve hurt him badly. I just hope he’ll forgive me.”
“Oh, don’t worry, Señor Delingpole. He’ll forgive you,” said Alfonso with a smile. “He was desperate to find you when I left him, and he was very—arrepentido. Contrite. We need to get you two back together again as quickly as possible. Then you can continue your honeymoon here in peace.”
“Sadly, we only have another day,” replied Dominic. “Then we have to fly to San Francisco. We’re going to the wedding of one of Jonathan’s former lovers.” Dominic smiled at Alfonso. “He’s had several of those in the past, as you can imagine.”
Alfonso laughed. “Oh yes, señor. I can certainly imagine.”
PALE SHAFTS of early morning Mediterranean light filtered through the high windows of ward B21 at l’Hospitalet. It was almost 7:00 a.m. The handsome nurse called Luis had promised Jonathan a doctor would be in the ward by 7:30 a.m. at the latest. Luis explained the doctor was the only person with authority to discharge him. Jonathan was confident he could persuade the doctor he was fit and healthy, despite having had virtually no sleep. The man in the bed next to him had snored like a foghorn on the cliffs at Dover. Despite Jonathan’s prodding and poking, the man seemed beyond unconscious, and his snoring had been relentless.
Jonathan lay in the semidarkness, listening to the rasping noise of the sleeping man, wondering how he might ever find Dominic again. He resolved to leave the hospital as soon as possible, even if the doctor told him he had to stay longer. He missed Dominic terribly and felt full of remorse for the events of the evening.
Impatience finally got the better of Jonathan. He decided to get dressed and be ready for the doctor when he arrived. As Jonathan pulled on a pair of trousers, he heard the doors clatter open behind him. He turned to see Dominic and Alfonso enter the ward.
“Oh my God, Dominic!” he cried, stepping forward. The loose leg of the trousers caught under his foot, and he fell headlong onto the hard floor.
“Jonathan! Not again,” shouted Dominic and Alfonso, almost as one. They rushed forward and helped Jonathan to his feet.
“I should kill you, really I should,” said Dominic as Jonathan steadied himself, his trousers sliding down below his knees.
Jonathan said nothing, but he wrapped his arms around Dominic in a bearlike embrace and hugged him tight. He felt as though an enormous weight had been lifted from him, and his shoulders heaved in a deep, contented sob.
“Oh, my love, I’m so sorry,” Jonathan said eventually, loosening his grip on Dominic but still clinging to his husband’s shoulders. “I don’t know if you can ever forgive me for running off like that. After all I’d said about nearly losing you before and never wanting to lose you again. I’m a fool, and I don’t deserve—”
“Jonathan, please,” interrupted Dominic gently. “Shut up. I’ve spent half the night worried to death, wondering where you are. Then I find out you actually did go to XXL. On our honeymoon. I’m not sure what to think at the moment. But at least you’re safe.”
Jonathan looked at Dominic for a moment through watery eyes, then wrapped his arms around his husband and hugged him again.
After a few moments, they heard Alfonso clear his
throat behind them. “Um, if you two are going to be all right now, I’ll leave you to it,” he said.
Jonathan and Dominic separated hastily. Jonathan looked down at the front of his white Armani briefs. They were struggling to contain his obvious enthusiasm for being reunited with Dominic. Jonathan grinned, then bent down, hoisted up his trousers, and buttoned his fly.
“Dominic my dear,” he said enthusiastically, as he fastened his belt. “Alfonso is the hero of the hour. He, and his beautiful husband, Gabriel, who was so helpful last night.” Jonathan looked at Alfonso and winked. “My dear Alfonso. And your Angel Gabriel.”
Alfonso laughed.
“Husband?” asked Dominic with embarrassment. “Oh my. I hadn’t realized—”
“Oh, Dominic,” said Jonathan teasingly. “As far as the Spanish police force is concerned, Alfonso is their motorbike queen of the road.” He turned to Alfonso. “Now, we must do something to repay both of you for your sweet kindness. Why don’t we take you out for a meal tonight? We can call you when we get back to the apartment—”
“Jonathan,” interrupted Dominic. “Shut up, please. There’s something I need to tell you. We don’t have any mobile phones at the moment. Or a laptop for that matter. Last night we were burgled.”
Jonathan paused as he buttoned his shirt.
“Burgled? Our apartment?” He sat down on the bed and sighed. “Oh, Dominic. Not another one of your adventures. I thought we’d had more than enough last year, when that ghastly Downpatrick woman and her henchman tried to kill you. We could do without this just now.”
Alfonso stepped forward. “Gabriel and I can help you replace your mobile phones, if you like,” he said. “It will be much easier for us, as we speak Spanish. Then you’ll be equipped for your trip to America.”
“That would be so helpful, Alfonso,” said Dominic. “Are you sure?”
“Of course.” Alfonso smiled, reaching into his jacket and pulling out a card. “Here. This is our address. It’s no more than ten minutes away. Get a taxi. I’ll ride on ahead, and we’ll meet you there. Gabriel will make you one of his famous desayunos while I call the phone company.”
The Deadly Lies Page 11
