by Orca Various
“It’s only a couple of kilometers,” Felip said, “but catch a cab if you get tired. And take some water.”
“Okay,” Laia said. “See you later.”
“You didn’t mention what happened on the hill,” I said as soon as we were out on the street.
“I need to think about how best to tell Felip,” Laia explained as we walked through town. “If I start off talking about gangsters, Felip will overreact, and the last thing we want right now is the police involved. It’s only our word against Blue Eyes’s, and he’s obviously an influential person around here. Besides, I really didn’t want to say anything in front of Chad.”
“He’s not exactly the caring, sensitive type,” I said. “Let’s go and look at where bomb two landed and then we can head down to the hotel. I’ll probably feel like eating something by then.”
“Are you okay for walking all that way?”
“Sure. I’m feeling better. Something to drink really helped. I played it up in there to get us out of dinner with Chad.”
“Yeah. That wouldn’t have been fun.” Laia glanced at her watch. “We’ll probably get back to the hotel about half past six. It’ll be getting dark by then, and it’ll be a good time to have a shower and grab something to eat.”
“Aaaahhh,” I said, taking a deep breath. “Don’t you just love the energizing smell of plutonium in the evening air?” We were standing by a high chain-link fence that encircled a large area of hilly ground where bomb number two had landed and exploded. Behind us, the narrow dirt road wound back to town between two reservoirs and the local cemetery.
Laia laughed and punched me on the shoulder. “You’re an idiot.”
“Yes,” I agreed, “but I’m a happy, harmless idiot.”
“Are you happy?” Laia was suddenly serious.
“You mean despite being forced to hang out with Chad, having a mystery that seems unsolvable and being threatened by armed mobsters?” Laia smiled, but I could see she was still serious. “Yes. I’m very happy,” I said, putting my arm around her shoulder. “I’m so glad you invited me here for Christmas.”
“And I am glad you came,” Laia said. She moved in and hugged me. “I’m very happy too,” she whispered in my ear.
I could have stood there forever, on a dirt road on a warm Spanish evening with Laia’s arms around me, but the peace was broken by the distant rumble of a scooter. We pulled apart.
“Do you have scooters in Canada?” Laia asked.
“Not many,” I said. “I think it’s mostly a European thing.”
“Then perhaps I will come to Canada. It sounds like a peaceful place. Nothing ever happens there.”
“That’s not fair,” I said with mock indignity. “Lots of stuff happens in Canada. We had the War of 1812 and the Mackenzie-Papineau Rebellion in 1837…”
“I’m sorry,” Laia said. “Since 1812, we in Spain have only had a war against Napoleon, two civil wars, a lost Empire, forty years of a Fascist dictatorship, Basque terrorism, and countless rebellions.”
I laughed. “One of our prime ministers said that Europe’s problem was too much history.”
“He was right.”
“He also said that Canada suffered from too much geography.”
Laia laughed. “Then I will come over in the summer and you can show me some of Canada’s geography.”
“I would love that,” I said as a bright red scooter appeared around the corner between the reservoirs. The rider was young and helmetless, with a green scarf wrapped around the lower half of his face. He slowed as he drew level with us. I raised my hand in greeting. He ignored it and continued past, staring hard at us as he did. Once he was past, he accelerated down the hill.
“Friendly,” I commented as his dust cloud drifted over us. Then a thought struck me. “Do you think Blue Eyes sent him to keep an eye on us?”
Laia shook her head and brushed the dust off her clothes. “There are many kids on scooters, especially along the coast. He probably slowed down to see if we had a bag he could easily snatch. It happens a lot, although mostly in the summer. But we should be moving on. It’ll be dark soon, and I need a shower now more than ever.”
As we set off down the road, Laia said, “Now, except for where bomb number four fell out to sea, we have visited all of the locations in your grandfather’s notebook. What have they told us?”
“Nothing,” I said. “Apart from some fences and warning signs, there’s nothing to see where the bombs fell, and location five was a bust.”
“There was the rockfall,” Laia pointed out.
“A really old rockfall,” I said.
“And the scratch marks I found.”
“I bet they were really old as well. Probably some bored Roman miner writing something rude about his boss.”
Laia laughed. Then she stopped so suddenly that I’d taken a couple of steps before I realized she wasn’t beside me anymore. I turned to see her staring at me. “That’s it!” she said.
“What?”
“Chad gave us the answer.”
“Chad?” I had trouble imagining Chad having the answer to anything.
“The marks I saw on the rockfall were a cross, a line and what I thought was an arrowhead.”
“Okay,” I said. “What does Chad have to do with that?”
“The resort his investors are planning will have a Roman theme. Roman numerals for the floors in the hotel. XIII for thirteen.” Laia crouched and scratched marks in the dust—XIV.
“It wasn’t a cross, a line and an arrowhead,” I said. “It was the Roman numerals for fourteen. Grandfather’s code—rockfall fourteen—wasn’t for rockfall number fourteen, it was number fourteen on a rockfall at location number five. Did you try to move the rock?”
“No. It was big, and it looked like it had been there forever. Do you think whatever is hidden from Gorky is behind that rock?”
“I’m certain of it. We need to go back there.”
“It’s too late now.” Laia looked up to where the sun was almost touching the tops of the western hills. “It’ll be pitch-dark long before we get there. We’ll go tomorrow.”
“Okay,” I agreed. Could we be this close to solving the mystery? I was thrilled by the possibility. We had made incredible progress since this morning, even if we weren’t any closer to discovering who the saboteur at Morón Air Base was. On the other hand, this morning I had never met Blue Eyes, Scarface or Tattoo Head, and my life had been much simpler. I glanced at Laia walking beside me, deep in thought. At least I wasn’t alone. I decided there was nothing I could do about Grandfather’s mystery or Blue Eyes’s threats before tomorrow anyway, so I would try my hardest to enjoy the evening with Laia in what I was certain would be a very expensive hotel. I was right about it being expensive, but the Puesta del Sol Hotel turned out to be surprising in a completely different way.
THIRTEEN
Appropriately, it was sunset when we arrived at the Puesta del Sol. There was a couple registering in front of us, so while Laia waited, I crossed the lobby to check out the pool. At the door marked PISCINA, a uniformed porter stepped in front of me and said, “Usted no puede entrar en la piscina vestida de esa manera.”
“Perdon?” I said.
“Su ropa,” the man said, indicating my clothes. “Usted no puede entrar en la piscine.”
“Okay,” I said, turning away. I knew I was dusty and could use a shower, and my clothes weren’t from Chad’s tailor, but I was a little annoyed that the hotel was so pompous that I wouldn’t be allowed into the pool area. I looked around the echoing lobby. It was certainly upscale—not at all like the motels Mom, DJ and I stayed in when we went on holidays. The floor was of gleaming marble, the walls either glass or polished wood, and there were crystal chandeliers and plush seats all around. Even the row of elevator doors was polished to a mirror finish.
As I watched, one set of elevator doors opened and a dumpy, middle-aged couple came out. They were chatting happily, and both had white towels over th
eir shoulders. There was nothing remarkable about them—a couple going for a swim before dinner and the evening’s entertainment—except that both were completely naked.
I watched in shocked confusion as they crossed the lobby, smiling and nodding at me on the way, exchanged a couple of friendly words with the porter and disappeared through the doors to the pool. My clothes weren’t the best or the cleanest, but at least they were clothes.
I spun around toward the registration desk and collided with another naked person. “Watch where you’re going,” he said in English. I mumbled some kind of apology and kept going. Laia was at the desk, talking to the receptionist. “There are naked people here,” I blurted out.
Laia looked startled, but the receptionist simply said, “Of course there are, sir. The Puesta del Sol Hotel is a naturist resort. Clothing is optional in most areas, although clothes are not allowed in the pool area and are essential at all times in the restaurant and after eight in the evening everywhere.” I could think of nothing to say. “I’m sorry,” the receptionist went on. “You were not aware of this fact?”
“A simple misunderstanding,” Laia said. She seemed remarkably calm. “My friend Steve is from Canada. I don’t think they have many naturist resorts there. Perhaps it is too cold.”
The receptionist smiled. “I think you will be more comfortable after eight o’clock,” she said to me. “I hope you enjoy your stay with us.” I glanced at the clock on the wall behind her. An hour and a half until people put their clothes on.
“I’ve got our room keys,” Laia said. “You are in four twelve and I am in four thirteen; our bags are already there. Perhaps we should go up, shower and relax. I’ll meet you back here at five minutes past eight.” She exchanged a smile with the receptionist.
Laia led me over to the elevator. I kept my eyes firmly on a small patch of the marble floor in front of me. When the doors were safely closed, I looked up. “Did you know this?” I asked.
“No,” Laia said, “but there are many naturist resorts along the coast. Sofia and Felip used to bring me on holiday to them when I was young.”
“Are you a naturist?” I asked.
“No,” she said to my great relief. “It is not for me, but if you do want to take your clothes off, the south of Spain is probably a good place to do it.”
“If you have lots of sunscreen,” I said.
Laia laughed. “You see, already you are getting used to it.” The elevator doors opened and we pushed out past a large, noisy, naked family on their way to the pool. At the door of 412, we stopped. “Don’t worry,” Laia said. “No one has to take their clothes off—unless they want to go for a swim. I’ll see you downstairs—after eight. It’s been an exciting day.” She smiled, kissed me on the cheek and went on to room 413. I fumbled with my key card, fell into the room, closed the door and collapsed on the bed beside my backpack. I wasn’t sure how much more excitement I could take.
“Do you feel more comfortable now?” Laia and I were looking at each other across a spotless white tablecloth in the largest restaurant I’d ever been in. It was 8:15, early to be eating dinner in Spain, so the restaurant was quiet. The few diners there were all fully clothed.
“I think I’ve gotten over the shock,” I said. “You know what I first thought when I saw the naked couple come out of the elevator? It was a line from The Sixth Sense.”
“The scary ghost movie about the kid who says, ‘I see dead people’?”
“Yeah. My first thought was, ‘I see naked people.’” Laia laughed. “The rooms are great though,” I went on. “The bed’s so soft, I fell asleep as soon as I lay down. I only woke up half an hour ago, but a shower and clean clothes made me feel like a new person.”
“That’s a shame,” Laia said. “I liked the old person. But the rooms are nice. I sat on the balcony for a while, looking out over the pool and the palm trees to the lights of the boats out at sea. I suppose some people live like this all the time.”
“I feel more relaxed than I have all day. Shall we eat?”
Dinner was a buffet that stretched the full length of the restaurant. There was food from all over Europe, but Laia insisted we eat local dishes. I had shrimp, octopus, fried local fish, ham, salad and a wonderful pastry dessert dripping in honey. I returned to the buffet three times.
“You won’t need to eat for the rest of your holiday,” Laia commented after I had finally finished and sat back in my chair.
“I’m not so sure about that, but I’m certainly eating well. Almost enough to fuel all the walking we’re doing.”
“And there’ll be more tomorrow,” Laia said, “if we’re going to walk back up to location number five.”
“What does Felip have planned for tomorrow?”
“I don’t know. I suspect there will be a lot of legal paperwork he will need to check on so that Chad can be fully informed when he goes back to whoever’s behind this scheme. He’ll probably have to drive down to Almería.”
Mention of Chad brought back memories of Scarface and Blue Eyes’s threat. “By tomorrow, we’ll be halfway through the forty-eight hours,” I pointed out.
“I know,” Laia said. “If we see Felip tonight, I’ll try and find out what’s going on. If Chad’s not too keen, finding out about the laws and regulations he’ll have to get around might be enough to discourage him. If not, I’ll tell Felip about Blue Eyes tomorrow night.”
I must have looked worried, because Laia went on, “It will be all right. If all else fails, we’ll be gone from here before the forty-eight hours are up anyway. Blue Eyes’s threats were meant to scare us. It makes no sense for him to chase us to Barcelona or Canada. He would just be increasing his risk, and there would be nothing to gain by it. It’s not rational.”
“I’m not convinced that Blue Eyes is entirely rational,” I said. “He’s a Russian mobster, after all.”
“But that’s what makes him rational. He wants to be able to carry out his illegal activities with a minimum of fuss and without drawing unwelcome attention. He’s not above threatening people or hurting them if necessary, but he wants to maintain at least the façade of being a reputable businessman. There has to be a gain to outweigh any risk he runs, and there’s no gain in chasing either of us.”
“I suppose so.” What Laia said made sense, but I’d still be much happier with Chad gone and all talk of building Roman-style resorts ended.
“Hello, you two.” We looked up to see Felip coming toward us. I was relieved to see he was alone.
“Hello,” Laia said. “I wasn’t expecting you here so early. Where’s Chad?”
“He said he had people to see,” Felip said, sitting down beside us. “To be honest, I find him a bit…”
“Tiring?” I suggested.
Felip nodded. “He is cheerful all the time. Everything is so positive. I’m afraid I find it a bit wearing.”
“I know what you mean,” I said. “Do you think he will go ahead with this Roman resort project?”
“I don’t know. He goes on about how wonderful the idea is, but the decision’s not up to him. He’s simply checking things out for an American company.”
“What will the local businesses think of an American company moving in?” Laia asked.
“Good question,” Felip said. “As you can see from all the building along the coast, there’s a lot of investment here already. Much of it’s foreign money.”
“Russian?” I asked.
“Some,” Felip said. “It’s hard to tell where the money comes from, and there are many different companies that could easily all be owned by one man. But there is a strong Russian connection. This resort, for instance, is owned by a company called Gorky Holdings, which certainly suggests a Russian connection.”
Laia and I exchanged looks at the mention of Gorky. It was a name that seemed to crop up everywhere.
“What do you think of the resort?” Felip asked with a smile.
“You mean apart from the naked people all over the place?” I sa
id, smiling back. “That was a shock at first, but the resort seems fine. I’m not sure I’ll use the pool though.”
“There are a lot of naturist resorts along this stretch of coast. Chad said he booked us in here because it was the only place with space that was close to Palomares. Otherwise, we would have had to drive in from Almería. Speaking of which, I have to go down there tomorrow to look at land-titles records and talk to people. What are your plans?”
“I think we’ll walk up into the hills and look at location number five,” Laia said. “I doubt if there’s anything to see, but I’ll bet the views are spectacular up there.”
“They are,” Felip said. “Take plenty of water with you. I should be back in the afternoon. I have to meet with Chad, but we can have dinner later. Perhaps the next day we can drive north and poke around the ruins in Cartagena?” Felip stood up. “I have paperwork and emails to catch up on, so I’m going to head on up. See you down here for breakfast?”
“Sounds good,” I said as Laia and I also stood. “Good night.”
“Good night,” Laia added.
When Felip had gone, we signed the meal bills to our rooms. “Let’s get a breath of fresh air,” Laia suggested. We strolled through the lobby, nodded to the doorman and headed outside. The air had cooled since midafternoon, but it was still pleasantly warm. We wandered up the drive toward the road, without any specific goal. “I guess Blue Eyes does own this place then,” Laia said. “He certainly seemed to be into Gorky.”
“Yeah,” I agreed. “Do you think he might be the Gorky in Grandfather’s notebook? He might be old enough.”
“He could be, but when you asked him if he knew Gorky, he talked about someone else.”
“I suppose so. We may never solve that part of the mystery.” I stopped and pointed to a red scooter under one of the streetlights. “Isn’t that the scooter that passed us on the road this afternoon?”
