It was not something Alvarez had claimed.
‘Inform me immediately of any further developments. Goodbye.’
It was very unusual for Salas to be sufficiently courteous to say goodbye. It had been written that one spoke kindly to a condemned man not to ease his passing, but to salve one’s own conscience …
The thought that somewhere there was someone who had marked him down for death unless he did something he was unable to do, turned Alvarez into a complete coward. In his mind, he saw his image caught in the crosswires of telescopic sights …
He opened the bottom right-hand drawer and brought out the new bottle of Soberano. He lit a cigarette. When faced with imminent extinction, the long-term damages of excessive smoking and drinking became irrelevant.
* * *
Alvarez slept badly, suffering a succession of dreams which when he awoke he could not remember but was certain had been terrifying. He arrived down in the kitchen to be told by Dolores that he could get his own breakfast because she was going out. Then, just before she left, she remarked that if only men could be honest when they looked into a mirror, perhaps they wouldn’t make such absurd fools of themselves. As he tried to find the chocolate, he wondered what that last waspish comment was supposed to mean?
The drink he made was neither hot and nor did it taste of chocolate; he couldn’t find any coca, the barra was stale, and there was only a scraping of membrilla.
He left the house and walked to his car, parked along the road, and even in that short distance the heat and exercise made him sweat. He unlocked the driving door and was about to climb in when he noticed an envelope on the seat. He picked this up, initially thinking he must have dropped it the previous evening. He sat behind the wheel, examined the envelope to remind himself about it. It was unmarked and sealed. And now that he thought more coherently, he became certain he had not been carrying an envelope the previous evening. He slit it open with his thumb. Inside was a card, aimed at the tourist trade, which pictured a couple in an open-topped car that had stopped in a safari park. The man had his arms about the woman as he told her that he loved her so much he could die for her; unseen by him, coming in on his side of the car was a large and very hungry lion.
During the night, someone had unlocked the car, put the card on the driving seat, relocked the car and left. The next twist of pressure …
He looked back along the road at his house. ‘They’ knew not only where he lived, but also which of the parked cars was his. ‘They’ were on the island. ‘They’ wanted him to know that they could kill him any time they wished. ‘They’ would be totally unconcerned about the consequences of whatever method of execution they chose. If Dolores, Jaime, Juan and Isabel might be swept up in the violence, so be it. He pictured a bomb’s exploding in the middle of the night, the metal fragments piercing soft flesh, the collapsing roof crushing young bodies …
He drove through the narrow, twisting streets as if the hounds of hell were baying at the back wheels; those he passed cursed him for a thoughtless tourist. He rushed past the duty cabo, to the latter’s astonishment, and up the stairs. He was panting for breath when he sat.
For once he was put straight through to the superior chief. ‘I know I locked my car, I always do, but this morning there was an envelope on the driving seat with the card on it. They’ve been watching me and anything can happen to the family…’
‘Pull yourself together,’ Salas snapped.
The sharp order persuaded him to calm down. ‘Señor, when I went to my car this morning, parked in the street, there was an unmarked envelope on the driving seat. At first, I just thought I must have dropped it the previous night when I returned home, but then I realized I couldn’t have done. Inside was a tourist card which is obviously a threat.’
‘Describe the card.’
He did so.
‘Send that and the envelope to the laboratory for a priority examination; as you’ve handled it, they’ll need a set of your prints for elimination purposes. Has Telefonica put a tap on both phones?’
‘Yes, but –’
‘Then that’s all that can be done for the moment.’
‘But…’
‘What?’
‘This has happened so soon after the phone call they must be in a hurry…’
‘Pressure will be applied frequently and with increasing force. This is merely the beginning.’
‘They want to stop us questioning Algaro, so surely…’
‘I have a much better understanding of the psychology of this case than you.’
‘Maybe. But I’m the bait, which makes things very personal. I want protection for my family and me.’
‘There is every chance we shall identify and arrest the man or men concerned long before you are ever in real danger.’
‘What if we don’t? What if you’re not quite as smart as you think yourself…’
‘Be quiet! In the circumstances, I shall generously overlook that insolent remark. I suggest that it is time you remember that although a Mallorquin, you are also a Spaniard. A Spaniard is proud to face danger. What do you think goes through the mind of a matador as he faces the bull?’
If he’d any sense, the fervent wish that the bull would aim for the cape and not the suit of lights.
CHAPTER 24
They had finished supper – a truly Spartan meal – Isabel and Juan had left the house to play with friends, Dolores was washing up in the kitchen, and Alvarez and Jaime were watching football on the television. It was not an interesting match. Jaime said in a low voice: ‘Tomas says there’s a green film on late.’
‘How late?’ Alvarez asked.
‘Midnight.’
‘Are you staying up for it?’
‘What d’you think she’d say if I did that?’
‘More than you’d want to hear.’
‘But we could tape it, if she didn’t know.’
‘How do we avoid that?’
‘I’ve been thinking. Just before we go up to bed, you say there’s an interesting documentary coming on.’
‘At midnight?’
‘All right, another football match from Russia.’
‘You think she’ll believe they play at three or four in the morning?’
‘Why’s she going to think that?’
‘Go east and the time’s earlier.’
‘Then go west.’
‘That’s what we’ll do if we’re not careful.’
‘I’ve never met anyone quibble like you do. You set the tape and then tomorrow, before you leave for work, you take it out of the machine and hide it.’
‘So I take all the risks? If you ask me, it’s better to forget the film. You know what women are – they have a sixth sense that tells ’em something’s up. What would life be if she caught us at it?’
‘Anything calls for a spot of courage and you can find a dozen reasons for not doing it.’ Jaime stood and stamped his way out of the room.
The phone began to ring. Dolores looked through the bead curtain. ‘Have you forgotten who’s answering the phone?’
He went through to the front room and lifted the receiver.
‘Is that the inspector?’
It was not a voice he knew. ‘Yes.’
‘Then suppose you tell me if you liked the card?’
It was astonishing that he had not initially realized the call might be from ‘them’. Tension flashed. ‘You’ve got to understand…’ he began hoarsely.
The line went dead.
His hand shook as he dialled Telefonica. He asked for an identification of the number just called, and the man at the other end said someone would phone back when that had been established.
Since the caller had been a different man – his accent suggested a similar background – there were at least two of them; two men whose objective was to scare him into having the inquiries called off and when that failed, as Salas had made clear it must, to kill him. History proved there was no such thing as perfect security. Eve
n were he surrounded by bodyguards, they could still kill him if they were clever and patient …
He returned to the dining room, opened the sideboard, brought out a bottle of brandy and a glass, poured out a very large drink.
Dolores stepped through the bead curtain. She came to a halt, hands on hips, her expression haughty. ‘When God made Adam, He made a mistake.’
Because He had added imagination?
‘That I should have a cousin who brings shame to my house!’
He drank, not daring to pass her to get some ice, morosely certain she had overheard Jaime’s earlier suggestion that they should tape the green film. As if it mattered what he watched when he had so little life left! ‘Where’s the harm?’ he demanded.
Dolores was surprised, even nonplussed by his rough reply. She quickly recovered her poise. ‘Your depravity has reached such depths that you can ask?’
‘It’s only a bit of fun.’
‘Sweet Mary, but I have been nurturing a viper in my home! A viper who can believe it is merely a bit of fun to debauch sweet youth!’
‘You’re talking nonsense.’
She held her head a fraction higher and her dark-brown eyes flashed icy fire. ‘Nonsense? It is nonsense that time and again I have suffered the pain of watching you make such a sad fool of yourself that my whole family has been shamed?’
It was finally clear that they were talking at cross purposes. ‘Are you going on like this because you think I’ve been having it off with a tourist?’
‘Because you have been failing to do so. If you had the wits to look in a mirror, you would know that that is inevitable.’
‘So that’s what you were getting at this morning … The phone calls have not been from a woman.’
‘You think I can believe that? When after you have spoken I see a man who has crumpled?’
‘What you’ve been seeing is a man who’s scared to hell.’
‘Scared?’
When he saw her emotion change instantly from righteous anger to sharp concern, he vainly wished the words unsaid. ‘Forget what I said.’
‘Why are you scared?’
‘Just forget it.’
‘Can I do the impossible? Can I see one of my family in trouble and pass by? Enrique, you have to tell me. Why are you scared?’
‘It’s just some men.’
‘Who are they?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘Then how can they frighten you?’
‘Because…’
‘Because what?’
‘It doesn’t matter.’
‘You are family. When you hurt, I hurt. And you tell me it does not matter? Enrique, you break my heart.’
He finally explained what had happened.
She sat. ‘I need a drink.’
He poured her one and replenished his own glass.
‘The superior chief must stop the inquiries so that you are safe,’ she said.
‘He won’t. He believes justice is more important than the individual.’
‘If you are hurt, how can there be justice?’
‘There’s the difference between theory and practice … I’ve decided there’s only one thing to be done.’
‘What’s that?’
‘I must move from here.’
‘As if I had thrown you out? Never!’
‘I cannot put you all at risk.’
‘How could that be?’
‘When they decide to kill me, they won’t care if anyone else is hurt at the same time. They might decide to bomb this house.’
‘Mother of God!’ She drank deeply.
‘If they know I’m no longer living here, then the four of you will be safe.’
‘But you will be living alone, with no loving family to watch over you.’
‘It’ll be a small price to pay.’
‘You must make the superior chief guard you.’
‘He’s promised I will be when he judges the time is right.’
‘When he thinks it is right? What if these men choose another time?’
‘I’m sure he’ll work things out.’
‘For you, has he ever done so in the past? How many men will he send to guard you?’
‘A couple, maybe.’
‘Can two be enough to make certain you’re safe?’
‘A dozen couldn’t guarantee that.’
‘Then he must do more.’
‘There’s nothing he can do since we’ve no idea who’s making the threats.’
‘Identify them.’
‘As soon look for a grain of barley in a sackful of wheat. I’ve spoken to two different men; there may be more, but I doubt that, because too many would risk becoming conspicuous. How do you identify two out of hundreds of thousands of tourists from all corners of the globe when all that we know about them is that they may be from South America and if so, probably from Bolivia?’
‘There has to be a way.’
The phone rang. When he saw Dolores’s expression, he said hastily: ‘That will be Telefonica telling me if they managed to trace the call.’ He went through to the front room.
A woman told him: ‘It was made from a public call-box in Carrer Alcina, Cala Beston.’
He returned to the dining room.
‘Well?’ Dolores said, her voice high.
‘The call was from Cala Beston.’
‘Sweet Mary, they are here; on the island!’
‘They had to be, to have left the card in my car.’
‘You must tell the superior chief.’
‘In a minute.’ He lifted his glass and drained it.
‘Why do you just sit there? Tell him to send every man in the Cuerpo, every guardia, every member of the policia local, to find these murderers in Cala Beston.’
‘Impossible.’
‘Why?’
‘He doesn’t have the authority over other forces.’
‘You worry about authority when they are out there, waiting to kill you?’
‘I don’t, but he will.’
‘Then tell him he must not! Are you going to go on sitting there, doing nothing, like a rabbit caught in the headlights of a car?’
‘You don’t know what the situation is.’
‘I understand that there are two men in Cala Beston who have to be found…’
‘Since the call was made from there, they are hiding out somewhere else.’
‘How can you be so certain?’
‘That’s the way they work.’
‘But…’
‘Leave it. We know what we’re doing, you don’t.’
She looked pityingly at him.
CHAPTER 25
Alvarez accepted his cowardice, but this did not bring the relief that confession was supposed to offer. He tried to assure himself that Salas had to be correct and the unknown men would continue to apply an ever-increasing pressure rather than wreak quick revenge for his lack of cooperation, but remembered reading that Bolivians had trigger-quick tempers …
For the fourth time in a quarter of an hour, he crossed the bar, on the ground floor of the hostal, and stared through the window at the people on the lower and the visible upper part of the square. Was there anyone who worked so hard at being inconspicuous that to a trained observer he became obvious …
He left the hostal and crossed the lower square to turn into the road which led down to the post. When halfway along, he heard the sound of rapid footsteps and swung round, arms raised to try to defend himself. A bearded tourist hurriedly stepped into the road in order to pass him at a safe distance …
When he reached the post, he was sweating freely.
‘You look like you’re just back from a six-day fiesta,’ the duty cabo said, and laughed.
As soon as he was seated in his office, he phoned Palma.
‘The superior chief is very busy,’ said the secretary with the plum voice.
‘I must speak to him. It’s a matter of life and death.’
She was unimpressed. ‘It will have t
o wait.’
‘My life or death? Tell him –’
‘He may be free in half an hour’s time. I suggest you phone then to find out.’
During the next half-hour, Alvarez repeatedly crossed to the window and looked down at the street, searching for the inconspicuously conspicuous watcher. He phoned as the last half-minute ticked away.
‘I’m very busy,’ was Salas’s greeting.
‘Señor, have you learned anything?’
‘In connection with what?’
‘With me, of course,’ Alvarez replied, bemused by such indifferent stupidity.
‘If there had been any development, following the phone call from Cala Beston, you would have been informed.’
‘Are inquiries being made at hotels and hostals?’
‘Plans to carry these out are being prepared.’
‘They ought to be in progress.’
‘Haste is the enemy of efficiency.’
‘Maybe, but it’s my friend. The men are on the island, they know where I work and live, what car I drive…’
‘Concern is understandable, panic is not.’
‘If you sat where I’m sitting, you might find things were different.’
‘It is a form of insolence to suggest I might ever occupy your position … How many more times must I assure you that I am judging the tempo of the proceedings and when the right moment arrives, all necessary steps will be taken.’
‘What if your judgement proves wrong?’
‘Your attitude is in danger of raising the question whether you are even less qualified to hold the position you do than has hitherto appeared to be the case.’ He rang off.
If fate were even half kind, Alvarez thought, when the men came to kill him there would be the chance to explain that it was not he who had defied their demands, it had been Salas. Let the superior chief discover the strength of his character in the face of a death threat.
* * *
Frightened, bewildered, yet angrily defiant, Dolores had slept badly and by the time she got up, she had a thumping headache and her temper was very short. Jaime was glad to leave for work; Juan and Isabel hurried away to play with friends.
She sat, rested her elbows on the kitchen table and her chin on the palms of her upturned hands, stared with unfocused gaze at the tiled wall above one of the marble working surfaces. Men liked to believe they were in control of home, country, the world, but the truth was that they were incapable of controlling even themselves. Full of bombast, when directly challenged their instinct was to duck – but always with an excuse for ducking …
The Ambiguity of Murder Page 17
