‘Why didn’t you make any money?’ asked Larche contemptuously. ‘Weren’t your fees high enough?’
‘They barely covered the costs,’ replied Jacinto sullenly. ‘My dear brother Eduardo forbade me to make a profit. He always was a hypocrite.’
‘You killed your brothers because your time was running out, didn’t you?’ Larche was insistent.
‘Not exactly. And by the way, monsieur, I’m telling you all this, not because you have enough evidence against me, which I know you haven’t, but because I can’t go on any longer. In spite of everything I’m still trapped on this damnable island. Eduardo took great pleasure in my poverty and Blasco put paid to the archaeological trust as I’ve already told you, so you must understand, monsieur, that my wife and I just haven’t got two beans to rub together so we can’t exactly sod off anywhere, can we?’
‘Maybe not.’ Larche was quietly reticent because he wanted Jacinto to carry on.
‘God, how I hated Eduardo – and Blasco, but Eduardo just that little bit more. I tormented him with telephone calls and barraged him with letters. Naturally I was very careful and I was so delighted to see him suffer. Did you know that after a false alarm, he even shat himself in his own swimming pool? The gardener told me there was a turd in the shallows. That gave me so much pleasure.’
‘Did you know what he was doing?’ asked Larche of Maria.
‘Yes.’
‘Did you share his hatred?’
‘I was sucked into it. You’ve no idea what hell these years have been.’
‘Hooper was a great boon to us,’ put in Jacinto. ‘Whoever he is – wherever he is – we have come to be exceedingly grateful to him. Eduardo kept me a prisoner here; he could have made it possible for us to leave, given us the support we needed. Blasco hated Eduardo; and wrecked the only valid project that might have given us a new life. I could have capitalized on the discovery, taken up marine archaeology again – been someone. Those three little rich boys, monsieur – I do feel you underestimated how ferociously they felt about each other’s proximity for so long. You’ll never know how much I loved and hated Eduardo, how much I detested Blasco. I had to hurt them – and I did, you see – I really did hurt them. But when Eduardo died, I grieved, Monsieur Larche. I really grieved.’
‘And you had no thought of Anita.’
‘That cold bitch. She sees nothing – nothing except her stupid, obsessive love of Eduardo. Yet she sees everything.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘She knew what was going on,’ said Maria. ‘She knew all the machinations here. She just determinedly blinded herself to them.’
‘Tell me,’ asked Larche quite gently. ‘Tell me how you got to kill them.’
Jacinto paused and Maria replied. ‘You have to be strong to kill. You have to experience enough hardship, enough frustration to give you that strength.’
‘What do you mean?’ said Larche sharply.
‘She means nothing,’ interrupted Jacinto brusquely. ‘I went to the Valley of the Fallen. I killed them.’
‘But how?’ There was something horribly wrong about all this, thought Larche, and he began to have doubts for the first time. ‘You would have been recognized. Jacinto Tomas can’t just walk into a confessional box, blow his brother’s and a priest’s brains away and walk out again, even if there was an epileptic decoy outside.’
‘I set her up,’ replied Jacinto stubbornly.
‘You would have been seen,’ insisted Larche. The anger seized him again, throbbing like his arm.
‘He’s lying to you,’ said Maria gently. ‘I killed them.’
Larche stared at her incredulously. What kind of crazy games were they playing with him? ‘And Blasco – and Alison Rowe?’ he asked wonderingly.
‘No. Please let me explain, monsieur. You have been very intuitive about my husband, and although he was right when he said you didn’t have enough evidence to convict him no doubt you would have proved your case in the end. You are very industrious and you have Calvino’s army of policemen to assist you.’ She paused. The situation we have shared for so many years on Molino has wrecked us both. I married a prisoner – and became a prisoner too. I was always a subsidiary player though. You didn’t even bother to question me when you arrived on the island, did you, monsieur? Or at least I was very low on your list of priorities.’
‘That’s correct,’ agreed Larche dispassionately.
‘I was just the wife of a playboy, wasn’t I? Probably brainless.’ Then her tone altered. ‘You wouldn’t know what it’s like being the wife of a prisoner, would you, Larche?’
‘You’ll soon find out,’ Larche snapped, sickened by her self-pity. One of the two butchered Alison and he was determined to find out which.
‘I already know,’ she replied bitterly. ‘Try being married to a victim like Jacinto – and I mean a victim. That’s why he wants it all to end now – don’t you, my darling?’
Jacinto stood up and for a moment Larche thought he was going to hit her, but instead he poured himself another drink.
Maria continued. ‘Something was done to him in childhood, something that made him stay on Molino, hating his brothers until he could find sufficient personal resources to kill them. In the end we both had to find them. Women are stronger – like the women of Sebastia. When I first married Jacinto I was a superficial convent-educated young Mediterranean socialite making a major social catch – the most glamorous of the Tomas family, the youngest son. For a few years he lived up to his reputation as an efficient playboy and I to mine as a glamorous and rather stupid lotus eater. We started our diving business and it made a little money for us. Then I began to realize, very slowly began to realize, the kind of trap Jacinto was in. And, of course, I shared it with him.’ She paused for breath and then added more slowly, ‘Soon I began to hate them as hard as he did. I could understand how Jacinto enjoyed torturing Eduardo. I could understand how terrified he was when Father Miguel summoned Eduardo to see him.’ She paused again and stared at Larche searchingly. ‘I don’t suppose we shall ever know now what Father Miguel was going to tell Eduardo. Maybe Jacinto’s suspicions were right …’
‘What were his suspicions?’ demanded Larche brusquely.
‘He thought Blasco had found out that he was persecuting Eduardo.’
‘How?’
Jacinto poured himself yet another Martell and said, ‘He came into the diving school when I was writing Eduardo another little missive. I was very quick to conceal the piece of paper – but perhaps not quick enough. The most frustrating thing is that I shall never know, will I? For some days afterwards I’m sure he was watching me and before he went back to Fuego he said something that convinced me I was right to be very suspicious of him.’
‘What was that?’ Larche was impatient. He was feeling increasingly tense about what might happen on the streets of Sebastia, yet he didn’t want to interrupt this last confessional.
‘He said that I might be happier if I accepted my life rather than fighting against it – that it was a life many would be pleased to have. He also told me how Eduardo was suffering – that he thought he was being hounded to his death by an unknown assassin. Blasco said he thought the hound was much closer to home. I took this as a warning to stop, but I didn’t. It was only when Eduardo said he was going to see Father Miguel that I thought the game was up.’
‘And so?’ prompted Larche.
‘We had no choice,’ said Jacinto. ‘Blasco and Miguel were very close. Neither of us could face the kind of disgrace that Eduardo would bring upon us. I knew he’d be very vindictive; he’d ruin us.’
‘So I decided to kill them,’ said Maria. ‘By this time my hatred for our jailer Eduardo had increased to such an extent that I thought about nothing else. Everything narrowed down. The ingenuous little girl had gone; Eduardo had destroyed her. Only Jacinto mattered now. I loved him so much that I would do anything to protect him.’
‘Like Anita loved Eduardo,’ said Larche quietly.
Maria nodded. ‘Ironically, you’re right.’ She paused. ‘So I went to the Valley of the Fallen in the disguise of one of the voluntary officials of the Basilica. Together Jacinto and I had already hired our epileptic actress.’
‘Bit of luck finding one just like that?’ said Larche, anxious to test out the validity of what she was saying.
‘Not if you know where to look,’ Maria replied evenly. ‘Despite the urgency I can assure you that we laid our plans most carefully, and don’t forget we are both experts in low-life.’
Larche bowed acquiescence. He was satisfied.
‘While our epileptic whore performed so conveniently for us I went into the box and shot Miguel – then Eduardo, through the grille.’
‘Simple, wasn’t it?’ said Larche with quiet sarcasm. He was trying to keep his temper at bay, trying to keep the persistent image of Alison out of his mind.
‘Then I put the gun back in my shoulder bag as the little whore’s performance heightened. I was still a subsidiary player, monsieur – or so it would have appeared.’ She paused. ‘It’s curious, but I felt nothing after killing them, absolutely nothing at all. Later on, when I got back to the island, when I heard that the killings were being linked with Hooper’s name, I was exhilarated. I’d struck a blow for Jacinto’s freedom. Monsieur – I love him so.’ She went over to Jacinto and took his hand. ‘I love him so very deeply. I’d do anything for him.’
‘You have,’ said Larche quietly. ‘You’ve done as much as anyone could. I don’t see you as a subsidiary player.’
‘With Eduardo’s death, we knew we would also inherit a substantial legacy,’ said Jacinto unexpectedly.
‘That was a minor consideration, I’m sure,’ Larche sneered.
‘In a way. We would have left the island anyway, but it was convenient to have some money to leave with.’
‘But you didn’t go, did you? There was unfinished business.’
‘Blasco,’ said Jacinto. ‘That bastard.’
What about Alison, thought Larche as he fought for control. What about her? Wasn’t she the real subsidiary player? Killed because she happened to be there.
Maria intervened. ‘Jacinto – after the killings – he became more and more disturbed.’ She squeezed his hand harder and he looked away from her. ‘He was certain that Blasco suspected him of killing Eduardo and Miguel. Eventually he convinced me …’
‘That Blasco had to go as well?’ Larche was very still.
‘Yes. I have to say I wasn’t sure what he knew, and now I believe it’s quite possible that he didn’t suspect Jacinto. Nevertheless, as you say, he had to go. Just in case.’
Larche could see her walking towards him, that first time at Sant Pere de Rodes. He could remember … Grimly he tried to blot Alison out of his mind yet again, and yet again he failed to do so.
‘We knew that we had to be very careful but, of course, there was Hooper. He was a godsend.’
‘I’m sure he was,’ said Larche bitterly. ‘And were you the executioner again, Maria?’
She shook her head. ‘Jacinto shot them – from a distance, using a telescopic sight.’
Something went white hot in Larche’s mind. Filled with a blind hatred, he walked over to Jacinto Tomas and hit him as hard as he could in the face with his fist – and then he hit him again. Larche felt pulp and splintered brittle bone. Then Jacinto was on the floor, his smashed face a mass of blood, and Maria was pulling him away.
Larche stood there panting, the adrenalin pumping, seeing Alison on the rocks at Molino. He felt his physical desire for her sweep over him. Hurting Jacinto had been a catharsis, perhaps the same kind of catharsis that Jacinto had felt when he pumped bullets into his brother.
‘Don’t touch him again,’ Maria said furiously, still hanging on to Larche.
‘I shan’t.’
‘You’ve broken his nose.’
‘Let go of me!’ he whispered.
Eventually she did and he stood there, motionless, as Jacinto slowly hauled himself to his feet. ‘And it was even more convenient that Detective Superintendent Rowe was there – a potential Hooper target.’ Larche’s voice was expressionless now and he felt drained of both energy and feeling.
‘Yes,’ replied Jacinto shakily, wiping the blood off his face, gingerly touching his broken nose. ‘Yes, it was.’
‘And the Irishman?’
‘He was just one of those itinerant bums who spend a few months in a place, make a bit of money and then move on. We recruited him in Barcelona quite quickly, just as easily as we recruited the whore – and smuggled him into the cave. As I said before, monsieur, we had become experts in low-life. What we did in Sebastia provided us with such useful contacts. And by condoning it all, it was rather as if Eduardo had given us the weapons himself. So many people came to the church – such diverse backgrounds.’ She was watching Larche intently and the force of her bitterness and contempt was as powerful as the blow he had struck Jacinto. He thought of her as she must have been – innocent, frivolous, expecting to be cosseted by the most glamorous of the three little rich boys. Instead she joined a waiting game that grew more obsessive, more claustrophobic, more psychotic by the moment.
‘For some time we thought we’d overplayed our hand and taken far too great a risk.’ Maria spoke quietly and reflectively now. ‘But fortunately Calvino was careless. We’d told our recruit that he’d receive a considerable sum of money to help us out in a robbery and he agreed readily. He had no police record in Spain, and he claimed not to have one in Ireland. In the end, we accepted that risk too. He hid out and therefore had no idea of what had been going on.’ She paused and then said almost shyly, ‘I kept him company one night – and planted the papers we had prepared on him. The worst bit was throwing the gun down without Lorenzo and Juan seeing.’
‘So killing was easier now,’ observed Larche.
Jacinto nodded.
‘What did you talk about?’ Larche asked Maria. ‘You and your tame Irishman?’
‘Life and its unfairness.’
‘It was certainly unfair on him,’ said Larche.
‘Yes. I shot him and he fell off the cliff – more surprised than anything else. As you can see, he was the result of quick but careful planning – just as the first killings had been.’
‘Ingenious.’
‘We must go back to the house now,’ said Maria suddenly. ‘We’ve been here too long.’
They listened, but there was only silence except for the faint sighing of the waves against the jetty.
‘They’ll still be after Lorenzo,’ said Jacinto confidently. ‘There’s no hurry.’
‘We must go now,’ replied Maria sharply. ‘Besides – you both need medical attention.’
Larche was surprised to find that, once again, the throbbing in his arm had dulled, but when he looked at what he had done to Jacinto’s face he felt a wave of self-loathing. There would be questions, of course, and he would have to confess. But surely anyone would argue that there were extenuating circumstances. ‘I am not my brother’s keeper,’ muttered Larche.
Jacinto laughed. He was fairly drunk but the cognac seemed to have made him docile. ‘The question is – who kept who? I still feel his presence – his needs. Directing a secluded brothel for such a distinguished older brother made me his keeper – just as much as he was mine. I saw to the discretion, he to his real sexual fulfilment. Eduardo was a driving force, Larche; he needed what Sebastia had to offer – what he had made Sebastia become.’
‘And all the time Anita shut it out?’ Larche could at last see it more objectively.
‘She loved him,’ said Maria. ‘To the exclusion of everything and everybody else. Just like I love Jacinto. Anita and I are two of a kind.’
‘And they were three of a kind – Eduardo, Blasco, Jacinto. Spoilt and trapped.’
‘You can’t say that about Blasco,’ said Jacinto grudgingly. ‘He’d made his escape – Fuego.’
‘But he couldn’t help comin
g back, could he?’ said Larche. ‘And he came back once too often.’
‘Perhaps Blasco was our keeper.’ Jacinto smiled. ‘Maybe he had my moral welfare at heart all along – and Eduardo’s.’ He looked at his watch. ‘I can see how tense Maria is getting, monsieur. I think we should go with you now – although I’m sure I have nothing to fear from the women of Sebastia.’ He turned to Maria. ‘All they do is wait for their men to come home; that’s all they’ll ever do.’ Jacinto walked across to Larche. ‘I’ve been a captive on Molino for a long time; I think I’ll be able to cope with captivity of a different kind. I suppose we shall be split up?’ His voice was emotionless.
‘Undoubtedly.’
‘Can we have time together at the house?’ Maria asked Larche. ‘Just a little.’ The tears were spilling out of her eyes and again Larche was reminded of Anita suddenly and so unpredictably weeping when he had first arrived on Molino. These women were so strong, Larche thought. Far stronger than their men.
Slowly the three of them walked out into the street.
The little square was full of women – young, middle-aged, elderly, very old. They stood not in groups but alone, silently waiting, their eyes on Jacinto. For a long time absolutely no one moved. Jacinto looked quietly amused but Maria seemed numbed, quite unable to respond to the extraordinary sight. Larche could sense the fear beating inside her, but he felt, perhaps as she did, oddly helpless in the face of something that had to happen – that like Jacinto’s hatred had been brooding for a very long time.
Confessional Page 21
