A Dangerous Game (14 page)

"Don't loiter, Indian.
 
Drop your passengers and come straight out.

We'll be waiting."

"Of course, Senor," Paulo said obsequiously.
 
As the car moved forward

he muttered something that Jacey recognised as Chachte.
 
It sounded far

from polite.

She turned angrily to Peter.

"So I'm your woman, ami?"

Peter shrugged.

"What did you want me to say?"

"You could have told him to go away and find some manners, the fat

sexist pig!"

"You don't say that sort of thing to Schlemann's heavies," Peter

said.

She stared at him.

"I thought this place belonged to Carlos Marquez?"

Peter shrugged.

"It does.
 
But the goons are Schlemann's.
 
He gives the orders and they

obey.
 
Why do you think everyone's so afraid of him?"

"Doesn't Hernandez object?"

"Of course not," Peter said.
 
He smiled without humour.

"The Generalissimo needs Schlemann.
 
How else would he get the money to

buy all those pretty uniforms?"

The car swung round a thick clump of trees.
 
Jacey had been expecting

the Marquez villa to be impressive, but even so, she was surprised at

its overpowering opulence.
 
Before them was a massive, columned portico

and huge double doors, and the whole building was swept by coloured

searchlights that bathed the white walls in alternating shades of blue,

pink and green.

"I don't believe this," Jacey exclaimed.

"Disneyland meets the Grand Hotel."

"I believe Senora Marquez had a hand in the design," Peter said dryly,

as he got out of the car.

"She had rather flamboyant tastes."

"Had?"
 
Jacey repeated curiously.

"She's dead?"

Peter hesitated.

"Presumed dead.
 
She disappeared about six months after old man Marquez

died.
 
She didn't leave a note and she didn't take anything with her.

She was always loaded with expensive jewelry, but she didn't take any

money or clothes.
 
Just went out for a walk, and never came back."

"Kidnapped?"
 
Jacey guessed.

"No one ever made a ransom demand."

"Suicide?"

"Overcome with grief at her husband's death, you mean?"
 
Peter smiled

briefly.

"Very doubtful."

Jacey got out of the car and mouthed a 'thank you' to Paulo.
 
Paulo

grinned at her, then reversed the car and drove away.
 
Jacey walked

towards the villa with Peter.

"Murdered?"
 
she persisted.

"There was no body," Peter said.

"No one was arrested, even though the Marquez family tried very hard to

get information.
 
They offered a huge reward but there weren't any

takers."

"Mysterious," Jacey murmured.
 
She added, only half joking: "Perhaps

the boys bumped her off to get the family fortune?"

"Unnecessary," Peter said.

"Juanita Marquez doted on her sons and spoiled them rotten, and they

all have nice fat trust funds anyway."

They reached the villa doors.
 
Jacey could hear laughter and a band

playing Latin American tunes.

"Do you think Nicolas Schlemann had anything to do with it?"
 
she asked

lightly.

Peter shrugged.

"I wouldn't think so.
 
Schlemann and the Marquez family have always

been as thick as thieves.
 
Carlos and Nicolas dine with each other

regularly, and their fathers were great pals, too."

"I bet they were," Jacey murmured.

"The ambitious young lawyer and the ex-Nazi with plenty of illegal

cash.
 
Sounds like they were made for each other."

They went inside, and for a moment Jacey was dazzled by the central

chandelier which blazed with the light from hundreds of flickering

candles.
 
Squinting up at them, she realised that they were all fakes,

powered by electricity.

"Beautiful, isn't' it?"
 
Jacey turned to see a stately, elderly lady

smiling at her.

"One of dear Juanita's little extravagances.
 
She designed it herself,

and it was made in Europe.
 
Very expensive."

"Senora Collados."
 
Peter took the proffered hand and kissed it

lightly, surprising Jacey.

"How lovely to see you again.
 
Allow me to introduce you to my new

colleague at La Primavera, Dr.
 
Jacey Muldaire."

"I know who she is, foolish boy," the old lady said.

"Everyone's talking about the beautiful young doctor with the

extraordinary hair."

She smiled at Jacey.

"Please, you must call me Ana."
 
She took Jacey's hand.

"You won't know anyone here, of course, so let me introduce you to all

the best-looking men."

"Are you going to steal my partner, Senora Colla dos?"
 
Peter asked.

The question sounded light-hearted but there was a note of displeasure

behind it.
 
Ana Collados smiled at him, and Jacey realised that she

must have been quite a beauty in her youth.
 
She still had dark,

luminous eyes and a wide, sensual mouth.

"You must let me gossip with her, Peter.
 
I'll return her to you soon."

Turning her smile to Jacey, Ana edged her away from Peter Draven. Jacey

felt sorry for Peter, standing alone in the glittering foyer.

"Peter is a dear boy," Ana said.

"But English men can be so chilly, can't they?"
 
She glanced up at

Jacey.

"Are you sleeping with him?"

Startled, Jacey said coolly: "I really think that's my business."

Ana nodded.

"That means you are.
 
Well, never mind.
 
After tonight, maybe you'll

have found someone whose temperament will match that fiery hair of

yours, eh?
 
But first, come and meet my nephews.
 
Carlos is married,

and very boring, but as he's our host perhaps we ought to speak to him

first."

"I didn't realise you were related to the Marquez family," Jacey

said.

"I'm Juanita's aunt."
 
Ana nodded.

For a moment Jacey was uncomfortable.

"Oh.
 
I'm sorry.
 
Peter told me' "That she was dead?"
 
Ana laughed.

"Well, I suppose he would believe that story.
 
Lots of people do.
 
It's

nonsense, of course."

"You think she's alive?"
 
Jacey was surprised.

"Of course she's alive."
 
Ana's eyes were bright and conspiratorial.
 
A

thin hand patted Jacey's arm.

"You must understand that dear Juanita was a woman of great passions.

Making this house look beautiful, a love affair, a great cause;

whatever claimed her attention, she gave herself utterly.
 
And, of

course, she didn't care a fig for convention.

She thought it necessary to leave here, so off she went.
 
She's

pursuing one of her dreams.
 
Believe me.
 
I know."

Jacey looked at the old lady and smiled.

"Well, I hope you're right."

"You think I'm an old fool, don't you?"
 
Ana said bluntly.

"But Juanita isn't dead.
 
I'd know if she was."
 
Jacey realised she was

being guided through a crowd that parted to move out of her way.

Suddenly she was facing a thick-set man with glossy, slicked-back hair.

He was wearing an immaculate evening suit.
 
A slim woman, glittering

with too much jewelry, stood next to him.

"Carlos," Ana said, 'this is Dr.
 
Muldaire."

Carlos smiled and held out his hand and Jacey noticed the heavy gold

Rolex on his wrist.

"Delighted to meet you at last, Dr.
 
Muldaire.
 
I'm glad you could

come."

They exchanged pleasantries.
 
Carlos Marquez exuded the kind of

professional charm that Jacey knew could be turned on and off at will

and his bejewelled wife next to him gave Jacey a frigid smile and an

unresponsive hand to shake.

"Carlos takes after his father," Ana said, as she guided Jacey away.

"Alfonso Marquez was a very boring man.
 
Rich, of course that's why

Juanita married him but so dull.
 
Raoul and Leonardo are quite

different, thank God."

"They take after their mother?"
 
Jacey asked.

"Oh, no.
 
They take after their fathers, too."
 
Ana smiled at Jacey.

"Raoul's father was a Frenchman.
 
Charming, a beautiful man. Leonardo's

was an Italian.
 
Tall and thin, and rather shy.
 
I didn't see the

attraction but Juanita was besotted with him for at least a year."

"She chose her children's names according to the nationality of her

lovers?"
 
Jacey was amazed.

"Didn't her husband mind?
 
I thought Spanish men were very jealous."