Blood Red (30 page)
‘Does God have a law degree?’ I exploded. ‘Does he have much experience on the Bench? I’m sorry, Senor Villamas,’ I added at once. ‘I’m not getting at you. It’s just that he’s so . . .’
‘Resigned, I’m afraid,’ the lawyer said. ‘He seems to be accepting his guilt.’
‘Well, I won’t,’ I declared.
‘You may have no choice. After I’d left the police officer, I spoke to the prosecutor. I know the man; he’s very experienced, very capable and he’s in no doubt that he’ll secure a conviction. I’m sorry, I wish I could help, but other than appearing as a character witness when it comes to sentencing, there’s nothing I can do.’
What the hell is he thinking about?
He was all that I could think about, as I lay on the lounger, propped up on my elbows, keeping an eye on Tom as he tried to catch a cresting wave with his mini surfboard. The whole thing was fantastic. Why would Gerard want to kill Planas? What possible reason could he have?
The man had called you a whore, and you told him that over dinner
. So what? Is that a reason to kill a man?
What did he do when Irena was attacked?
That was years ago, and it was rape, a far different thing.
Unless, in his eyes, it was an insult he couldn’t tolerate
. ‘Rubbish, Primavera,’ I said aloud. And then I remembered anew what he’d said in La Lluna and I shuddered.
He was all that I could think about, as I lay on the lounger, propped up on my elbows, keeping an eye on Tom as he tried to catch a cresting wave with his mini surfboard. The whole thing was fantastic. Why would Gerard want to kill Planas? What possible reason could he have?
The man had called you a whore, and you told him that over dinner
. So what? Is that a reason to kill a man?
What did he do when Irena was attacked?
That was years ago, and it was rape, a far different thing.
Unless, in his eyes, it was an insult he couldn’t tolerate
. ‘Rubbish, Primavera,’ I said aloud. And then I remembered anew what he’d said in La Lluna and I shuddered.
‘
As for calling you a whore, if he was a younger man, I would take off my collar and meet him after dark.
’
As for calling you a whore, if he was a younger man, I would take off my collar and meet him after dark.
’
Had he decided that Planas wasn’t that old after all?
‘Stop it!’ I called out, so loudly that a woman three mushrooms along turned and looked, to see what was happening. I fixed her with a glare, and she went back to her book. I wouldn’t believe it, I told myself, I couldn’t believe it; but so much seemed to fit.
‘Stop it!’ I called out, so loudly that a woman three mushrooms along turned and looked, to see what was happening. I fixed her with a glare, and she went back to her book. I wouldn’t believe it, I told myself, I couldn’t believe it; but so much seemed to fit.
For once in my life I could not think of a single thing to do. I needed someone else’s input, but whose? Santi. Of course, Santi. He’d come up with something. But then I saw the snags. I didn’t have a contact number for him. I didn’t know where he was, but given the time it takes to fly from Barajas to LAX, I was pretty sure he’d be nowhere in Spain. I didn’t know for sure what airline he was with. I’d assumed that it was Iberia, but I couldn’t be certain, for he hadn’t mentioned it. Even if it was, I’d have been surprised if they had put me in touch with him, at least until they’d checked me out. I could try, and I would, but I held out no great hopes. Only one man could put me in touch with him quickly, and he was locked up in Girona.
I’d had enough of the beach. I was restless, plus, the wind was getting stronger by the minute. I called to Tom that it was time to go and feed Charlie . . . that always works faster than simply, ‘Time to go, Tom’ . . . rolled up my towel and stuffed it away in my bag.
The dog was pleased to see us, although he wasn’t fed until I’d made Tom stand under the cold shower in a corner of the garden to get rid of the considerable amount of beach that he’d brought back with him, then towel off before he went inside to fill Charlie’s bowl. He was halfway through his evening ration . . . That meant he’d been at it for less than half a minute. Have you ever seen a Labrador eat? . . . when I heard the phone ring in the hall. I was sand-free myself by this time so I stepped indoors and picked it up.
‘Senora Blackstone?’ A man’s voice.
‘Yes.’
‘My name is Comisari Nino Valdes,’ he said. ‘I am now in charge of the investigation into the deaths of Senor Planas and Senora Fumado.’
A commissioner
, I registered.
They have brought in the big guns
. ‘I don’t know if you are aware, but we have a man in custody in respect of the two crimes.’
A commissioner
, I registered.
They have brought in the big guns
. ‘I don’t know if you are aware, but we have a man in custody in respect of the two crimes.’
‘Yes,’ I snapped. ‘I am aware of it, and I’m quite certain that it’s the wrong man.’
‘That’s not what he says, senora. I am quite confident that we have a case, and I’m happy to explain it to you. It would be helpful to us if you would agree to be interviewed, purely as a witness, you understand. I know,’ he continued, smoothly, ‘that given your recently conferred status I can’t compel you to do this, but I would appreciate your cooperation.’
I was on the point of telling him that I wasn’t interested in helping him, only Gerard, but stopped myself. I’d be in control in any interview, and I’d volunteer nothing that would be of harm to him. ‘Okay,’ I said.
‘Excellent. When can I visit you?’
‘You can’t; I’ll come to you. I’d prefer it that way.’ I checked my watch; it was half past five. ‘You’re in Girona, yes?’
‘That’s right.’
‘I can be there for six thirty.’
‘I’m sorry, I have another appointment this evening. There’s no need to rush; no one’s going anywhere. Let’s make it two o’clock tomorrow afternoon. Will that be convenient?’
‘Yes, of course.’
‘That’s good. I’ll be waiting for you. I appreciate this.’
I hope you’re as pleased when we’re done
, I thought,
you smug bastard
.
Forty-seven, I thought,
you smug bastard
.
I
did my best not to think about what had happened, until I actually had to. I went into the computer room . . . I’d have to start thinking of it as my office . . . and picked up my envelope from the FCO. I did what I’d been asked to do, beginning with a call to the ambassador in Madrid. She had gone for the night, so I said I’d try again on Monday morning. Then I rang John Dale, the man who seemed to be my point of contact; we were still in normal office hours, according to British Summer Time.
did my best not to think about what had happened, until I actually had to. I went into the computer room . . . I’d have to start thinking of it as my office . . . and picked up my envelope from the FCO. I did what I’d been asked to do, beginning with a call to the ambassador in Madrid. She had gone for the night, so I said I’d try again on Monday morning. Then I rang John Dale, the man who seemed to be my point of contact; we were still in normal office hours, according to British Summer Time.
I’d expected a civil service mandarin type, somebody with a plummy accent, honed at Eton and Oxbridge; instead I found myself speaking to a bloke from Bradford, who’d made no attempt to lose his. Progress, I supposed.
‘Mrs Blackstone,’ he exclaimed, ‘good to hear from you. I was told not to expect a call until next week.’
‘Primavera, please. Who told you that?’
‘Joe O’Regan, my man upstairs; he got it from the Foreign Secretary, his man.’
‘Was my appointment as big a surprise to you as it was to me?’
‘Yes and no. I wasn’t anticipating anything in Spain, but there have been quite a few appointments like yours lately around the world, special counsellors with specific briefs. It’s been the practice of this government since they’ve been in office. If the Tories had done it they’d have called it “Jobs for the boys and girls”, but to this lot it’s “Bringing in a breath of fresh air”, which you sound like, if you don’t mind me saying so.’
I didn’t mind at all, as I told him. ‘If your man upstairs got it from his man, who did he get it from?’
‘From what I gather it was Mayfield, the Home Secretary. Am I close to the mark?’
‘Think Francis Urquhart.’
‘Uh?’
‘Novel and TV series,
House of Cards
, by Michael Dobbs. “You may say so, but I couldn’t possibly comment.” That’s the Urquhart character’s great line.’
House of Cards
, by Michael Dobbs. “You may say so, but I couldn’t possibly comment.” That’s the Urquhart character’s great line.’
‘Ah,’ he exclaimed, ‘that’s where it comes from, is it? Before my time, I’m afraid.’
‘Thanks, John,’ I said cheerfully.
‘Oops.’
I let him off the hook, although I did register that the guy was probably younger than me, for all his high rank. ‘That’s all right; they repeat it on nostalgia TV every so often. Tell me,’ I went on, ‘in the event that what you gather is true, how would the Home Secretary manage to pull off something like that in the Foreign Office?’
‘Well,’ he replied, stretching out the word as if he was framing a diplomatic reply, ‘word is there’s going to be a revolution soon. Our guy is very ambitious, and if he’s to succeed to the big chair, he’s going to need the younger group on his side . . . especially Mayfield.’
‘I see. I must start to read the UK media on a daily basis.’
‘Yes, but read the lot. The
Guardian
’s facing three ways at once, as usual, but
The Times
and the
Telegraph
both subscribe to another theory, that our guy is a little too ambitious to be trusted, and that when he does kick off the upheaval, the party will get behind someone who’s shown a bit more loyalty, and who’s just as smart.’
Guardian
’s facing three ways at once, as usual, but
The Times
and the
Telegraph
both subscribe to another theory, that our guy is a little too ambitious to be trusted, and that when he does kick off the upheaval, the party will get behind someone who’s shown a bit more loyalty, and who’s just as smart.’
‘Justin?’
‘Ah, you’re on first-name terms,’ he chuckled.
‘I’ve met the man twice,’ I told him, firmly.
‘Then you must have impressed him. Now, when can you come to London? Next week too soon?’
‘A little. I’ll have to make arrangements for my son, and in addition I’m involved in a situation here that’s going to take a couple of days to resolve.’
In the end we agreed that I’d report to the Foreign Office one week from the following Tuesday, 10 a.m. ‘What’s the dress code?’ I asked.
‘Pinstripe suit, blue shirt, white collar,’ he replied, ‘or jeans and a T-shirt saying “Welcome to Spain” if you prefer. Whatever’s your norm. But no jewellery of a religious nature; we’re not allowed to show or imply favouritism.’
‘You are joking, aren’t you?’
‘Fortunately, yes.’
I’m going to like John Dale
, I thought as I hung up. But what to do about Tom? Was I really prepared to be a working mum?
Yes
, I told myself,
and the answer’s simple: get Gerard out of jail, and he can look after him
.
, I thought as I hung up. But what to do about Tom? Was I really prepared to be a working mum?
Yes
, I told myself,
and the answer’s simple: get Gerard out of jail, and he can look after him
.
I kept that thought with me through the evening, even after I’d called Father Olivares and been depressed by his pessimism over Gerard’s prospects, especially when I told him that he’d rejected Josep Villamas’s offer of representation. ‘He is accepting his situation, my dear,’ the old cleric sighed. ‘If that is the case, then perhaps we should also.’
‘I’ll never do that,’ I insisted. ‘Father, do you know how to get in touch with Santiago Hernanz, Gerard’s brother?’
‘I’m afraid not. I was away on both his visits to L’Escala, so I’ve never met him, and Gerard rarely speaks of him.’
That was true enough, I had to concede.
I found relief from one problem by concentrating on another. Should I go to Dolores Fumado’s funeral? After all, I’d met the woman as often as I’d met Justin Mayfield, and on one of those occasions she’d been dead. Still, Justine had been pretty square with me. On balance I decided that non-attendance might be seen as a snub, so next morning I dug out a black dress, left Tom with Ben Simmers, in charge of the dogs, and drove into L’Escala. Parking wasn’t a problem; there’s an official area behind the church. In the winter it’s free, so it’s full, but in the summer you have to pay, so it’s half-empty; the locals don’t use it then, on principle, even though it only costs a few cents. See Catalans; see money?
I bought a new shawl in a shop at the top of the hill, not because I wanted one, but to comply with convention. It wasn’t as nice as my old one, but the police still had that, and anyway, going to a funeral wearing the murder weapon would have set a new standard in political incorrectness.
As I had at Planas’s send-off, I tried to make myself invisible in the middle of the congregation, but I could only find a seat at the end of a row, right on the aisle. Hah! If the ghost of John Paul II had appeared at the altar to conduct the Mass he wouldn’t have attracted much more attention than I did. For all the discretion that the police had shown in bandying my name around when I was on the run, I must still have been the talk of every hairdressing salon in L’Escala . . . and believe me, that’s a lot of shampoo and set; anyone parachuted into the town and asked to name its main industries on the basis of a quick walk round would probably say anchovies second, hairdressing top of the list.
Just about every head in the place turned to look at me, and a buzz of conversation started. It was only stilled when the mayor, her sister, looking more ghostly than ever, and Angel entered the church and walked slowly up the aisle; they were followed by two other men, of an older generation. Justine stopped beside me. She put her hand on my arm, kissed me on the cheek and said, in a voice loud enough to carry for several rows in every direction, ‘Thank you for coming, Primavera. I know you’ve had an ordeal too.’
That took care of the chattering classes, I’m happy to say. I was forgotten as the Mass progressed. It didn’t seem to last as long as the previous one had . . . Father Olivares was acting alone; that may have accounted for it . . . before we were making our way outside, into the square with the vast palm tree, full of noisy birds, in the centre. I would have left straight away, but Justine came across to me. She’d been talking to the two older men, but detached herself. One of them, the taller of the two, moved on to talk to Angel, but the other followed her with his eyes, until they settled on me. ‘My uncles,’ she explained. ‘My parents’ brothers. What have you heard?’ she asked me quietly.
‘Nothing that I believe,’ I told her. ‘I’m going to Girona this afternoon to see the new head honcho. He wants to interview me.’ I stopped, and reminded myself that I was talking to a woman who’d just lost her mother in terrible circumstances. ‘But how are you? I haven’t had a chance to tell you how sorry I am.’
‘I’m as shocked and disbelieving as everyone else in this town,’ she replied. ‘The man you’re going to see, he visited me last night. Primavera, I’m like you. There are things I find it almost impossible to accept. When Gomez told me you were a suspect, I laughed at him. I was ready to laugh at the man Valdes too, but after he’d spoken to me . . . I still find it hard to conceive of such a thing, but . . . You go see him; maybe you’ll spot a flaw in his argument. My God, I hope you do.’
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