Murdered by Nature

by Roderic Jeffries

  ‘What is she to remember?’ Alvarez asked sharply.

  ‘To help Beatriz as soon as she leaves here.’

  ‘I’ll remind her.’

  Benavides left.

  ‘It’s a pity we were interrupted,’ Alvarez said, ‘but he was trying to help you, wasn’t he?’

  She said nothing.

  ‘Are you unhappy at home?’

  He waited. ‘Inés, we all have problems we find terribly difficult to talk about, so I’ll ask you a few questions and you can answer them very briefly. Am I right in thinking that what you said before Manuel came in here means your trouble is what happens at home?’

  ‘He . . . he’s . . .’

  ‘Does your father do things which embarrass you?’

  She rushed her words. ‘He won’t let me wear clothes like the others do because he says they look indecent. He won’t let me go out with friends in the evening because that leads to mortal sin.’

  A father who perhaps remembered too much about his youth. ‘Is that why you’re so unhappy?’

  ‘Yes, but . . . That is . . .’

  ‘Tell me.’

  She stared at her feet.

  ‘If you tell me what it is that so worries you, I may be able to help.’

  She seemed to take a deep breath before she said: ‘He says that if I ever lie, I’ll go straight to hell.’

  ‘If that were so, I don’t think there would be many people in heaven.’

  ‘It’s better to be deaf, dumb and blind than to lie and be cast into hell’s fires. I don’t want to be blind.’

  ‘You have lied?’

  After a while, she nodded.

  ‘About what?’

  ‘I . . . I said I hadn’t seen him.’ Her voice had become shrill.

  ‘You have a boyfriend and your father doesn’t like him?’

  ‘It was a terrible lie. I did see him. I knew it was him because of the scar.’

  In his mind there was a clap of mental thunder. Facts form a theory, a theory must never form facts. Because he had theorized that she suffered parental trouble, he had presumed . . . ‘You saw Kerr, the man who died in the bay?’

  It was several seconds before she nodded.

  ‘When?’

  ‘He said I mustn’t tell anyone about it.’

  ‘Kerr said that?’

  ‘Manuel.’

  ‘Did he say why?’

  She ignored the question. ‘It was a terrible lie. I was scared, and last night I dreamt I was made to walk towards a huge flame and my father was laughing. A dream says what’s going to happen.’

  ‘It is the most useless prophet there’s ever been. Last week, I dreamt my decimo had won. When I woke up, I thought of all that I’d do with the money. At the lottery shop, I found I’d won nothing.’

  ‘But my dream means—’

  ‘That you had been worrying about what your father had said to you, nothing more. You must often dream?’

  She nodded.

  ‘Has a single one of those dreams come true?’

  After a moment, she shook her head.

  ‘Neither will this one.’

  ‘You really think that?’

  ‘I know it for certain.’

  He waited, then asked: ‘When did you meet Kerr?’

  ‘I . . . can’t remember.’

  ‘Was it when the almonds were in blossom, the grapes were forming, or the oranges were being harvested?’

  ‘It was . . . just before Elena’s birthday party. I wasn’t allowed to go because parties lead to sin.’

  ‘When does she have a birthday?’

  ‘September the twenty-fourth,’ she answered immediately.

  ‘And where were you?’

  ‘Here. Manuel was busy, and Beatriz was in bed. She had some kind of bug which a lot of people were catching.’

  ‘You go to answer to the front door if no one else can. Is that what happened?’

  ‘He wasn’t like the people who usually come here. He hadn’t shaved.’

  Alvarez was gratified that he had remembered to shave that morning. ‘What did he want?’

  ‘He couldn’t speak Spanish and I know hardly any English, although the señora tries to help me learn some. He kept saying the señora’s name, so I said she and the señor had gone out. Manuel came and told the man to clear off, and eventually he left.’

  ‘Did he tell you his name?’

  She shook her head.

  ‘Tell me how you can be certain who he was?’

  ‘He had the scar.’

  ‘You had read about the man who died in the bay and the description of the scar on his neck?’

  ‘But when I told Manuel what I’d realized, he said I was talking nonsense. He couldn’t have been the man who died in the bay.’

  ‘Did you accept you might have been mistaken?’

  ‘I kept telling him, I knew it was that man. In the end, Manuel said if it was him, it would cause the señora so much trouble if it was known he’d come to speak to her that I must forget about it. That’s why I . . . I lied to you.’

  ‘You did not lie.’

  ‘I told you I hadn’t seen him, but I had.’

  ‘Do you know why people lie?’

  She did not answer.

  ‘It is to make someone believe something that’s not true. If that person doesn’t believe what he’s been told, what was said becomes meaningless and there has not been a lie. You have told me what did happen, I have not been deceived, you have not lied.’

  She fiddled with the button on her frock. ‘I . . . I won’t go to hell?’

  ‘Neither now, or at any other time.’

  ‘I’ve been so . . . so frightened.’

  ‘Forget your fears.’

  ‘But I’ll have to confess to Dad and he’ll—’

  ‘I’ve just explained why you have not lied, so you do not have any reason to confess about anything.’

  She was silent for almost a minute, then said: ‘You won’t tell Manuel what I’ve said to you, will you, or he’ll be so angry. He’ll tell the señora I don’t do the work properly. He didn’t want me to come here, but the señora asked me about my family and said I was to work here.’

  ‘He’ll not know you’ve told me anything.’

  She looked far less tense when she left.

  Alvarez was not surprised when Benavides knocked on the door, stepped inside and asked: ‘Is everything in order, inspector?’

  ‘As right as it ever is.’

  ‘Inés was not too confused?’

  ‘I understood everything she told me.’

  ‘Was she able to help you?’

  ‘Only in a negative sense. She corroborated what she’d said before.’

  ‘Then she really can’t assist you?’

  ‘She seems to lead a very strict life.’

  ‘Her father belongs to a strange religious society.’

  ‘Hot on fires.’

  ‘I beg your pardon?’

  ‘A meaningless comment.’

  The television programme came to an end. Dolores stood, went over to the set.

  ‘Don’t switch off,’ Jaime said.

  ‘You intend to continue watching when it is time for bed?’

  ‘The next programme could be interesting.’

  ‘On this channel, it is a study of buffalo in America over the past two hundred years. Perhaps, when I am in bed, you intend to change channels to watch the film which is being shown and is described as inflammatory. You are interested in firefighting?’

  ‘You always misjudge me.’

  ‘As my mother used to say, a man’s mind is a mansion for one subject and a shoe cupboard for all others.’ She climbed the stairs and went into the bedroom, closed the door forcefully.

  ‘Why didn’t you say something?’ Jaime demanded.

  ‘About what?’ Alvarez asked.

  ‘Her making out we wanted to watch the film because it’s hot.’

  ‘You think she hadn’t seen the photograph i
n the telly magazine of a woman having a shower behind semi-transparent shower curtains?’

  ‘There was no need for her to think that’s why I want to see the film.’

  ‘The fires of hell are singeing you.’

  ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

  ‘Great perils lie in wait for lying mortals.’

  ‘Have you been drinking since lunch?’

  ‘I have not had that pleasure.’

  ‘Then what’s got you talking daft?’

  ‘An insoluble problem.’

  ‘How to persuade her your hand was reaching for the gear lever?’

  ‘How to reconcile an unbreakable promise not to do something while doing it.’

  ‘You’d run circles backwards.’

  Jaime had a point, Alvarez accepted. What could have persuaded him to promise Inés to do the impossible?

  He awoke, yawned, allowed himself another five minutes before he got up and dressed, went downstairs to the kitchen. Dolores was seated at the table, reading a book. She looked up. ‘You are not going to work this morning?’

  ‘It’s Sunday, so there’s no rush. It does one good to take things easily.’

  ‘You have the experience of doing anything else?’

  She was in one of her moods, he thought. ‘Is the chocolate made?’

  ‘It will need reheating since I had forgotten you and Jaime spent the night watching a green film which disgraced both those who acted in it and those who watched it.’

  ‘It wasn’t like that. There was just the one very quick scene; the photo of it was in the programme magazine.’

  ‘If true, that is the explanation of my husband’s ill humour when he finally came to bed. Perhaps, like you, he continued to watch in case your misguided hopes were finally met.’

  He tried to lighten the atmosphere. ‘Is that a cookery book you’re reading?’

  ‘Since the cover is a photo of Lomos de bacalao fresco con champiñones, it seems possible.’

  ‘Are you thinking of cooking that?’

  ‘It had not occurred to me.’

  ‘Prepared by you, it would be ambrosia.’

  ‘That is probable.’

  ‘Then perhaps?’

  ‘When you are both not too tired to know what you are eating because of an ill-spent night, I might consider it.’

  The wise man evaded trouble. ‘I’d better start moving.’

  ‘You are suddenly in a rush?’

  ‘There’s a lot going on at work. Perhaps it will help if I heat the chocolate?’

  ‘When you will have the gas so high, the chocolate will boil?’ She closed the book, crossed to a working surface and picked up a saucepan, lit a gas ring, reduced the flame to the minimum.

  ‘I don’t expect you had time to buy some ensaimadas?’ he unwisely asked.

  ‘You are correct. Were I two people, I should still not have enough time to do what is expected of me.’

  ‘Hopefully there are some biscuits?’

  ‘Do I maintain so poor a home that there are likely to be none?’

  He said nothing. The old soldier’s advice still held good. When the bullets buzz, stay under the parapet.

  The phone rang soon after he entered his office.

  ‘Roberto here,’ Plá said. ‘There’s a drowned elephant in the bay.’

  ‘Swim out and pull it ashore.’

  ‘I can’t swim.’

  ‘Don’t let that stop you trying.’

  ‘No sense of humour? Or do you only find it funny when someone else suffers?’

  ‘Unless you’ve a reason for phoning, I’m busy.’

  ‘A touch of the superior chief? You know Sacar La Moda down on the front?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Every time you pass the shop, you look at the scanty underwear on show and hope you’ll have the fortune to meet someone wearing it.’

  ‘You’ve the mind of a schoolboy.’

  ‘Which is why we gain pleasure in each other’s company. Half an hour ago, a woman went into the shop and started looking at frocks after placing her handbag on the counter. She finally decided to try on a frock, went into the changing room and the assistant followed to tell her how ravishingly beautiful she looked in it. A man entered, grabbed the handbag and ran. The victim says there were over two hundred euros in the handbag.’

  ‘Had she just been to a bank to withdraw cash?’

  ‘How would I know?’

  ‘By asking her. Then you can find out if she’s fudging the amount for a better insurance payout.’

  ‘Do you believe anyone?’

  ‘Myself.’

  ‘Then you’re being conned. Does the manner of the robbery tell you anything?’

  ‘That women shouldn’t leave their handbags on a counter.’

  ‘If you’d been called to console the victim, she’d have ended up hysterical. What about names of likely thieves?’

  ‘Can’t think of any offhand.’

  ‘You must have had dozens of similar cases.’

  ‘Not when they’re policía work.’

  ‘When they get serious, they’re Cuerpo’s.’

  ‘Call me when another half dozen women have lost their bags.’

  ‘I’m damned if I know why I thought you might help.’

  Alvarez raised his arm to look at his watch. It would be advisable to wait another half hour before returning home for supper. It was to be hoped that Dolores had overcome her irritable belief that Jaime and he had been watching a green film the previous night; in the traditional sense, it had been soft pornography. The reasonable criticism would be that the plot was very familiar. A poor young woman, an ailing father who needed unaffordable medical attention, a doctor who promised to help when he and she became close friends, seduction poorly represented, desertion by the doctor, the beginning of a downward life spiral for the young woman suddenly halted when she met a rich, older man, happiness at last, reappearance of the doctor and the demand of much money to keep her secret secret.

  He lit a cigarette and his thoughts returned to the case. Did he accept Inés’ evidence? If true, the fact had been concealed by the staff in a conspiracy of silence. Why? A question which had to be answered.

  Benavides had tried to frighten Inés into silence by the threat she would lose her job. She was aware that she might find it difficult, even impossible, to find another home where the señora would employ her from a sense of sympathy. If he demanded Benavides told him why he had threatened her, it would be obvious she had told him. The señora, deep in sorrow, could not be expected to ignore Benavides’ advice a second time.

  He brought a bottle of Terry brandy and a glass out of the bottom drawer of the desk. Alcohol might not, in truth, sharpen the mind, but it allowed one to forget how blunt it could be. He lit another cigarette. Could he say he’d been told by someone, unconnected to Inés, that he had seen Kerr visit the house? A casual trespasser in the garden who had chanced to see Kerr . . . ? But why would Manuel have noticed him? How had this trespasser informed the Cuerpo? Why should a casual visitor mention having seen Kerr?

  His duty was clear. Honour the demands of his work, accept there was no room for emotion. He must inform Salas of the new evidence after he had questioned Benavides, even though Inés must suffer, if not through losing her job – an appeal to the señora not to dismiss her? – but from the hostility of the other members of staff. When one had to face alternative courses of action, both of which were wrong, how to judge which one to take? The young woman in the previous night’s film had known she should preserve her honour, but not to do so would save her father’s life . . . unhappiness . . . marriage to a wealthy man restoring happiness . . . her seducer blackmailing her . . .

  Blackmail? Over what?

  He poured himself another drink.

  FOURTEEN

  Benavides opened the front door, his welcoming smile as false as ever. ‘A pleasant evening, inspector, but the wind has the hint of approaching winter.’

  �
�Probably. I want a word with Señora Ashton.’

  ‘She is sailing. I regret I cannot say when she will return.’

  ‘Is she on her own?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘García not with her?’

  ‘She should have no need of the engines because of the direction and constancy of the wind.’

  Sailing on her own to dim memories or, perversely, evoke them, as some in bitter despair might do? ‘Does she know what she’s doing in a yacht?’

  ‘The señor said that she held as good a helm as he did. Can I assist you, inspector?’

  ‘By having a word.’

  ‘If you would like to enter?’

  They went through to the staff sitting-room.

  ‘Please sit, inspector.’

  What was hidden behind those plummy, obsequious words, Alvarez wondered. Contempt? Staff – not from the island – often assumed their employers’ social standing, and an ill-dressed police officer enjoyed no status. Had Benavides been a Mallorquin, he would have understood that wealth was a measure only of wealth, social standing was a figment of imagination. ‘I had a chat with Inés yesterday evening.’

  ‘I remember.’

  ‘As I said, she merely confirmed what she had told me before.’

  ‘As you will have understood, inspector, she has an unfortunate home life which affects her level of intelligence.’

  Inés was almost cleared of grassing. Now to learn whether Benavides would withstand a direct attack. ‘You know you inherit a bequest under Señor Ashton’s will?’

  Benavides was briefly hazed by the change of subject. ‘The señora has mentioned this,’ he finally answered.

  ‘Ten thousand euros. A generous gift from a generous employer.’

  ‘Indeed.’

  ‘Much as you’d expected?’

  ‘There was no reason to be remembered in the señor’s will.’

  ‘Even though servants whose services were appreciated often are?’

  ‘One enters service to serve, not in the hopes of a legacy.’

  ‘After years in the home of a rich man, it would be unusual not to wonder if there will be one when illness suggests death cannot be far away.’

  ‘My concern was for the señor, nothing else.’

  ‘Is a copy of his will in the house?’

  ‘I cannot say.’

  ‘Is there a safe?’