"That's not our problem, Marta. Remember the chasing, as you call it, was the responsibility of MMH and the others. It was not yours or your clients' responsibility. If CE, ServiArquitectos and MMH didn't do what they should have, you can't be blamed."
"But Juez Garibey also asked about what happened to the excess, the monies which my clients kept for themselves that should've been repaid. You know, like what your firm paid to me so I could lubricate certain greedy little hands via anonymous white envelopes."
"You're right. That is harder to handle. That's why we must consider what you say with the greatest care. I've been thinking about this. What I'd like to suggest is ..."
Tuesday: Alcobendas
"Are we getting anywhere?" asked Ana.
She was with Caterina and Emilia. From her perspective progress was slow, without any of the magic spark the Australians had promised. She reflected.
She liked Caterina, on edge and awkward though she could be. Actually, she rather envied Caterina. She herself would have liked to make a play for Davide, though she doubted he would be interested in someone like herself – too young and probably too Spanish for him. He was stimulating and everything she picked up about him made him more interesting. The titbits from Inma about Rome had whetted her appetite.
If Caterina and Davide fell out, which was not impossible given how bloody-minded Caterina could be, it might be worth a try. With hindsight she wished she'd paid Davide more attention when he'd first shown up at ORS, before Caterina and Emilia appeared. But it was her own fault for not making the effort.
Emilia was totally different. Less reflective than Caterina, Emilia seemed to Ana to live for today. She had overheard snatches of Alberto's conversations with his male colleagues at ORS. If true, Emilia had prodigious desires. When she had slept that night at Davide's uncle's piso, in the same bed as Emilia, Ana had sensed Emilia's temptation. For a while asking Emilia to stay in her small apartamento when she was pissed off with Caterina risked playing with fire. But Emilia behaved perfectly and respectfully.
A part of her wondered about Emilia and Inma. There could be a seriously complicated combination if anything caught fire. Yet a conversation with Inma indicated all was innocent. Emilia was only helping out with Inma's eye-drop problems, nothing to raise concern.
What a weird situation to find herself in, with a bizarre collection of people. If her grandmother was not so straitlaced and formal Ana would have loved to describe to her the dramatis personae. She was sure, had Inma not been family, her abuela would have adored the gossip and the game of trying to interpret what motives were driving whom and why, or not. Of course this conversation couldn't ever occur. She would not dream of confessing anything ever to anyone about her regard for Davide. That was doomed.
She refocused. What was Emilia saying? There was an edge to her voice.
"... is this, Caterina?"
"What?"
"This, the third payment from ServiArquitectos to El Cerámico. It's for eleven thousand and twenty euros including tax. But look here. It appears on the next day in Márquez's M-In Accounts and the same day that peculiar eleven thousand and twenty euros goes out of the M-Out accounts in a payment labelled with the shorthand of Adrian to an account called Cardarzob. It reappears the next day coming back into the M-Out accounts, as if returned or repaid. Next thing, the same amount goes out again, but just to sobr-Cardarzob."
Ana asked Emilia to repeat what she'd just stated. This time both Caterina and Ana listened intently as Emilia explained again, adding some additional details.
It meant nothing to Caterina, who said, "However, let me look for other instances. How do you spell those words?"
"Wait a moment," said Ana. "I may recognise what Emilia's found where you might not. It may be coincidence but the previous head of the Catholic Church in Spain was a decent, relatively open-minded man called Adrian. He died some years ago and was succeeded by someone much nastier and virulently conservative, whereas Adrian had been relatively, for the Spanish Catholic Church, liberal."
Emilia: "So?"
"The title of the head of the Catholic Church here has the title of, in English, Cardinal Archbishop of Toledo. In Spanish that is Cardenal Arzobispo. This could be shortened to Cardarzob. I also wonder if 'sobr' is shorthand for sobres, or envelopes in English.
"I think I get you, Ana," confirmed Emilia. "Interesting. So, if you're right, what we might have here is a traceable payment from ServiArquitectos to El Cerámico. In addition, at almost the same time we've precisely the same amount, including the IVA tax, paid into the El Cerámico account of Márquez called Cardarzob, which first has the reference Adrian and second happens to use the name of the man who was then Cardinal Archbishop of Toledo. Now the question is, can we find any additional detail?
"Caterina, start searching. I'm also going to try to find similar payments. Ana, have you ever looked through all the names on the M-Out payments list?"
Ana shook her head.
"I think you should. You know the Spanish scene. Just like you used the celebrity magazines, why not go through the list? Caterina, generate a spreadsheet with all the names or codes or references for Ana."
Emilia was suddenly in her element. With the tiniest bone in prospect she was taking charge.
Ana was amazed. This was a different Emilia. Her femininity evaporated, supplanted by the look of a hungry wild dog intent on eviscerating some prey – even if that prey was as yet unknown. There was instantly a fever about her which her body language clearly conveyed, though she was probably unaware of how much she'd changed in moments. It was Emilia now driving them forward.
While the other two sat engrossed at their machines, Ana phoned Pedro: "Where are you?"
"On my way to Alcobendas."
"Wonderful! Las Australianas may be onto something. If they are, be prepared. It may be red hot and dangerous. Yes, we'll keep it to ourselves."
She put the phone down as Caterina said over her shoulder: "Ana, do you see a spreadsheet with the names Emilia suggested in your secure email?"
Ana turned to her laptop and opened the file. She started to work through the list, making occasional notes for following up later. It was a long list. Pedro would be here well before she was a tenth of the way through it.
Wednesday: Madrid
Marta was, if anything, more nervous as she left to wait for Alfredo to pick her up and take her to face Juez Garibey de Williams. The two good aspects of the last few days were his support and preparation efforts together with the rather different support accompanied by the relaxation that came from being with Salvador.
He'd arrived from Valencia to stay with her last night. They had enjoyed themselves but without the exuberance of previous occasions. Her apprehensions, despite his soothing words and actions, were not sufficient to induce forgetfulness about the next day. She was certain, however, that she'd made sure he'd enjoyed himself. Although she'd had to work at it, it was only his due.
Standing outside her hotel she chatted with Salvador. He was taking a taxi to his financial advisers. His sister simply did not listen. She seemed intent on spending their inheritance as if no financial crisis existed. If the fear of more questioning bothered her, imminent bankruptcy of their late father's estate was driving him crazy.
A taxi drew up. Salvador kissed her farewell, wishing her success before climbing in. As his taxi left another appeared, this time with Alfredo inside. He opened the door for her. Once inside he told the taxi driver to take them to the Sala de lo Penal by calle Génova.
Leaning back to inspect her, he said, "The same suit as when we had lunch some weeks back. Good choice. Pinstripes look fine on you and I do like those stockings. You should distract the Juez with your appearance alone. Plus you look consummately professional."
Accepting the flattery she didn't admit that she had worn the same suit the previous week. It was her most severe outfit, hence why she'd chosen to wear it again. After all, this was not a fashion event. She had g
iven in on the stockings. They were the best pale silk, Salvador had said, when she put them on for him this morning, his eyes drinking in the spectacle.
"By the way, was that Salvador what's-his-name you were talking with before he entered a taxi? How do you know him?" Before Marta could think of an answer Alfredo continued: "I guess it's the world of Valencia. I still regard it an overlarge village, albeit with a small village mentality. I'm glad I escaped. How do you bear it? I didn't like to ask when Puri and I were with you there."
Marta, relieved of the need to talk about Salvador, agreed that Valencia could be small-minded. Yet it had made progress over the past decade.
Alfredo agreed, saying, "Yes, fuelled by that bout of crazy spending the Comunidad de Valencia could not afford: a magnificent opera house, Formula One, the America's Cup and more. What were the locals thinking?"
Again, Marta did not need to answer; their taxi was drawing up outside the Sala de lo Penal.
"Relax, Marta. You're prepared. This should pass swiftly."
Though not convinced by his own words, for he knew there were dangerous rapids to negotiate if Juez Garibey was alert, he knew he must try to persuade Marta to project an aura of confident innocence. Inside a café he ordered before sitting beside Marta and placing his briefcase on a third chair.
"Puri sends her love."
"Thank you, Alfredo. I know what you're trying to do. I hope it works. I'm more nervous today than I was last week. It's knowing what my abbreviated responses to his questions from last week embrace. It's not the errors. Those I can cover. It's afterwards."
"I understand," soothed Alfredo. "So tell me more about Salvador. Do you know him well? Do you see him socially? He doesn't enjoy a particularly pleasant reputation."
Actually, that was an understatement in Alfredo's view.
Marta knew Alfredo was trying to distract her. Yet it felt more like an inquisition, one made all the more unwelcome by her thinking she had escaped it earlier. She wasn't sure how to reply.
Looking at her, Alfredo suddenly made a connection: "I've put my foot in it, haven't I? He's the man that Puri's sure you have some form of relationship with, correct?"
She nodded. The distress on her face was precisely not what he wanted, especially now. It was too close to seeing the Juez. The question now was how he might rescue his error.
"I guess that if you have something going with him, he must be a better person than rumour describes. That's good to know. He has fingers in many places. How did you meet?"
At his patent concern Marta started to talk about Salvador and how they had shared differing miseries over the past weeks. She did not tell Alfredo how they had first met nor why. That might be for another day.
Astonishingly, sharing with Alfredo produced a feeling of calm within her. To their mutual amazement she switched from a bundle of nerves to something nearer the serenity that he'd sought. By the time she'd finished talking, only occasionally prompted by questions from Alfredo, Marta was ready to face anybody.
They walked in peace together to face the uncertainties of the court questioning to come.
Wednesday: Madrid
Marta and Alfredo entered the Sala of Juez Garibey where they found the lawyer from last week waiting. Alfredo had spoken with him previously to make sure that he would defer to himself. It was not an issue. Alfredo had originally retained him. All three sat and arranged their various mixes of papers, tablets and laptops, and switched their mobiles to silent.
They had to wait. Behind the scenes, Juez Garibey was finishing a rushed discussion with Pedro, bringing him up to date. He now had the details in hand about the payment to Cardarzob. He was looking forward to springing this on Márquez. He felt sure it would disorient.
"You have the Australians available in case we need corroboration?"
"Yes, Señoría. They are here and will be at the side of the Sala with me."
"Good. We might as well start. I'm running behind, but that's not unknown for the overworked and underpaid like us. You go join the good ladies. I'll be out in a couple of minutes."
Pedro departed. He found the Australians where he expected. Caterina was looking preoccupied. He didn't say anything.
Juez Garibey entered the room.
As before, the initial proceedings were more about observing the formula of the law than anything of substance. This included some surprise when Juez Garibey saw Alfredo. Garibey did not think he had ever encountered in person the formidable, at least by reputation, Alfredo Gómez. Gossip said he'd retired from practising law; this clearly was not the case.
While Juez Garibey was resetting the scene for his questioning, Emilia was becoming curious about Caterina. She seemed unduly distracted.
When Emilia whispered to ask what was wrong, Caterina said, "See the man to the right of Márquez? The lawyer with the robe? See anything odd?"
Emilia inspected Alfredo "No, not really. What should I be seeing?"
"Look at his laptop."
"It looks like a silver laptop. Actually, it's like your old one."
"Exactly. The strange thing is, my old laptop was of a specific model type that was only ever sold back home. It had an odd graphics processor unit that wasn't sold anywhere else because it ran hot. I didn't know this when I bought it. By the time I found out it was too late to replace. I wonder if it has a dashed red line on the side."
"Why?"
"I normally mark the exterior of my laptops somewhere. I try to make it look innocuous. If it was there on the side and the machine had that particular GPU it would be like a 99.9 per cent indicator that it's mine. But how could he have it?"
"That's simple. He stole it."
"But he's a lawyer. Lawyers don't steal. No self-respecting lawyer would turn up in court with stolen goods. It doesn't make sense. It must be a coincidence. Oh well, we'll never know."
Caterina returned her attention to Juez Garibey who was clearly coming off worst with Señora Márquez over some of the transaction entries. Marta finished explaining how at least a third of what she had looked at had been resolved to the mutual satisfaction of both parties, with suitable repayments or netting off of credit notes.
Disconcerted, Juez Garibey asked about the other two-thirds and what had happened to the various monies. Pressed vigorously by Juez Garibey, Marta was becoming visibly distressed.
Alfredo decided he had to step in before she crumbled in the face of a Juez de Instrucción who was annoyed by how successfully they had overturned his initial questioning. Unfortunately their strategy – his strategy – to defenestrate questions via double invoices and credit notes that had been resolved, was having the opposite effect to what he had intended. Rather than dissuading Garibey it was as if they had offered him a new lease of life. He was in danger of smelling prey. That must not happen.
"Señoría, if I may interrupt?"
Juez Garibey nodded to Alfredo, though felt irritated.
"My client is uncertain why you are asking questions about what happened to any monies that MMH, CE and ServiArquitectos failed to reclaim. Surely this is of no relevance to you if it was the three companies who did not follow up. That this is due to their, how shall I put it, lack of competence is not for Señora Márquez."
Juez Garibey glared bleakly at Alfredo, "Señor Gómez, you would be correct if your working assumption was accurate. But what if it's not?"
"I don't understand, Señoría. The reason that you gave for citing my client to appear before you was couched in terms of CE, MMH and ServiArquitectos. Her first appearance dealt only with those companies."
Juez Garibey paused to consider. He decided that it was time to open up, otherwise Gómez was going to inhibit progress.
"You are correct, Señor. But these are but an entry point to a larger set of issues that I'm investigating. This is why I wish to know more from Señora Márquez."
Alfredo metaphorically took a big step backwards. This wasn't what he was expecting. In essence Juez Garibey had chosen to say the
re was more to his questioning than related to CE, MMH and ServiArquitectos. This was a shock, a blow.
"Señoría, may we request a brief break?"
"You may, Señor Gómez. I hope half an hour will be sufficient. Let's re-assemble at noon."
While Alfredo conferred with Marta, who was looking ever nearer to panic, Emilia turned to Pedro. "Did you hear what Caterina was saying?"
Pedro had been too intent on watching the interplay between Juez Garibey and Señora Márquez to have heard. Emilia filled him in before addressing Caterina: "Is this true?"
"Yes."
"Let me double check. If Gómez's silver laptop has a tiny dashed red stripe on the right hand side and uses some special form of – what did you call it, Caterina? A GPU?"
"Graphics Processor Unit. Think of it like a CPU but for pictures and images."
"If it has the stripe and this special GPU that would mean it was almost certainly the one stolen from the ORS offices. It sounds beyond belief. He's a very well-known lawyer."
Wednesday: Madrid
"Come in Pedro, Señora Certaldo. What can I do for you?"
Pedro explained about the missing laptop. Juez Garibey listened without expression.
When finished, he addressed Pedro: "Why are you telling me this? What can I do about it? Why may it be relevant?"
"Even with my police powers, Señoría, you know I cannot approach Señor Gómez and ask to look at his laptop. Like his documents, it's covered by legal privilege. In your Sala, you may ask two questions, possibly a third. The first is about the red stripe. The second, if there is such a stripe, is to identify what Emilia calls the GPU. If this is of the type only sold in Australia, question number three would be how Señor Gómez acquired the laptop.
"If he can't provide a convincing answer I suggest, Señoría, quarantining the laptop, pending examination by my people. This would also put Señor Gómez in a difficult position. Remember his firm was one that repaid what ORS demanded."
Corruption's Price: A Spanish Deceit Page 24
