A Question of Motive (17 page)

He stood. ‘Señora, having insulted you once, I will not do so again by asking to read the letter.'

He left.

Alvarez picked up the receiver, paused, replaced it. Surely there had to be some way in which to avoid the unavoidable?

There was not. He lifted it again and this time dialled.

‘Yes?' said Angela Torres.

‘It is Inspector Alvarez speaking . . .'

‘Wait.'

He picked up a pencil and drew a childlike picture of Salas with two devil's horns on his elongated head.

‘It is now well into the morning,' Salas said. ‘Were you not instructed to phone me the moment you returned to the office?'

‘It took time . . .'

‘I am uninterested in mindless excuses. Are you going to make a report or is there nothing to say because you omitted to carry out your orders?'

‘I drove to the home of the Morton-Smiths and . . .'

‘Who?'

‘Miranda, the wife, was Miranda Pearson before marriage. As I arrived, he was leaving . . .'

‘Who was?'

‘The husband.'

‘Then say so.'

‘That was very fortunate.'

‘Why?'

‘It meant she . . . Señora Morton-Smith was on her own.'

‘She confessed to her adultery?'

‘No, because . . .'

‘Of your incompetent questioning.'

‘Because the reason for the legacy was not what it had seemed to be.'

‘Appeared to you to be.'

‘Her father had helped Señor Gill financially in the past and the legacy was a further expression of his thanks to, and regard for, her father.'

‘To be certain I am hearing what you believe you are saying, do you no longer believe this legacy to be a consequence of the wife's adultery with Señor Gill?'

‘That is so.'

‘Señor Morton-Smith had no motive for murdering Señor Gill?'

‘It seems not.'

‘Then another of your proposed motives is exposed as nonsense.'

‘It did seem obvious . . .'

‘Only to an obsessed mind.'

‘That's not just.'

‘Only because it does not mention obtuse and impercipient.'

The line was dead.

L
uisa opened the front door of Aquila. ‘Good morning, Inspector,' she said cheerfully.

‘And to you. Is Parra not here?'

‘He has driven into the village to buy some stores. Will you come through? The señorita will be very glad to see you.'

He followed her, unkindly decided she had put on a little weight since he had first met her unless her dress was too tight for someone with her posterior dimensions. She and Pablo made an unlikely couple, but then in another's eyes, many couples were strangely matched. One saw beauty, warmth, trustworthiness; another, plainness, egotism, unreliability. But for this, would there be marriages?

Mary smiled as he followed Luisa into the sitting room, cooled by the air-conditioning unit. ‘I'm sorry I was out the last time you were here.'

‘It's given me the chance to come here this morning.'

‘Would you like coffee, señorita?' Luisa asked.

Mary looked at Alvarez. ‘For you?'

‘Yes, please.'

Luisa left.

‘Is this business or pleasure?' Mary asked.

‘Ninety-five per cent pleasure, five per cent questioning.'

‘There can still be some you haven't asked?'

‘They grow like viruses.'

‘And are often as nasty. Is the sun worrying you? If so, lower the awning.'

‘It's fine, thanks. Makes the room cheerful.'

‘But when the sky's all cloud, the mountains become dark, the island sulks . . . Enrique, would you help a maiden in distress?'

‘Of course. What's wrong?'

‘Something silly. I dreamt Robin and I were picnicking and when I awoke . . . I've been feeling lost. As you walked in here, I wondered if you'd take me down to the bay again?'

‘Naturally.'

‘“A verray parfit gentil knight”. Ask the questions quickly so they're over and done with.'

‘I don't know how long ago it was, but at one of your parties, there was trouble with a guest. Can you remember that?'

‘I'm not certain what “trouble” means. When a number of expats get together, there are often hiccups. Someone plays the fool and lands in the pool, drinks too much, helps himself to a bottle of champagne to take home or is rude because he's so superior – wives of retired high-ranking servicemen are past masters at that.'

‘A guest was objectionable to Eva.'

‘Him! When Robin learned about that, he was furious. It wasn't just Frank's appalling behaviour. Robin knew I'd be upset because it would make me remember. He ordered Frank out of the house and told Pablo to make certain he went.'

‘He must have felt humiliated?'

‘Angry because he claimed Robin was making a scene out of nothing. For Frank, wealth equals superiority, so maids are for the taking. Why d'you want to know about this?'

‘He must have believed he had reason to hate your uncle.'

‘I suppose . . . Enrique are you thinking . . .' She stopped.

‘I'd just like a word with him. What's his surname?'

‘Foster.'

‘Where does he live?'

‘On the outskirts of the port in a large house with every possible accessory – sauna, indoor pool as well as an outdoor one, gymnasium. It's called Ca'n Foster, naturally.'

‘Is he married?'

‘To Agatha. A grande dame. Or so she believes. Leaves the island in the summer because the sun isn't good for her complexion. If she had one left, one could understand her complaint.'

‘Does he remain here?'

‘Mostly. Probably by choice.'

‘I'll call and have a word with him, but from the sound of things, not by choice.'

‘When?'

‘This afternoon. Right now, a rescue drive down to the port takes priority.'

Ca'n Foster was a large and lumpy house, the garden was large with water-thirsty lawn and flower beds, the outdoor pool was large, and the Bentley in the garage was large.

The front door was opened by a middle-aged man, dressed with the formality of an upper servant.

‘Is Señor Foster here?' Alvarez asked.

‘You are?'

‘Inspector Alvarez, Cuerpo General de Policia.'

The man's surprise was momentarily visible. ‘Will you come in, please, and I will ask if Señor Foster is free.'

The hall was large, the colourful carpet on the marble floor was large, the two vases, filled with flowers, were large, and the paintings of hunting scenes in England which hung on one wall were large.

‘Would you wait here, Inspector.'

Alvarez studied the paintings and tried to make sense of the English pleasure in risking death on horseback.

Foster entered the hall from one of the adjoining rooms. He was just under two metres tall, lean, and his face had the features of a man who never doubted his own authority. ‘What do you want?' He spoke in English – Spanish was for foreigners – with clipped tones.

‘I should like to ask you some questions, señor.'

‘Why?'

‘I am investigating the death of Señor Gill and have reason to think you may be able to help me'

‘You think incorrectly.'

‘Nevertheless, I shall need to ask you certain things.'

‘I suppose you'd better come in here.' He walked towards the nearest door and stopped. ‘Perez.'

Perez, who had let Alvarez into the house, hurried into the hall.

‘I'll have the usual.'

Foster opened the door and went into the room. Alvarez followed. ‘The usual'? A drink? He would be asked what he would like; he could reasonably hope for one of the top brandies.

‘I haven't time to waste, but you might as well sit.'

They sat.

‘If you're investigating Gill's death, why come here?'

‘I think you knew the señor?'

‘We'd met.'

‘You were not great friends?'

‘No.'

‘Was there a reason for that?'

‘The good lady went to a lot of trouble trying to teach the niece how to behave in society – proper society, not the ragbag here. Gill told her not to interfere. One is not friendly with someone capable of such rudeness. We may meet in a shop, but both the good lady and I try to avoid doing so if possible.'

‘Who is the good lady?'

‘Who the devil do you think? My wife.'

‘Is she here?'

‘In England.'

The door opened and Perez entered with a silver salver on which was a filled flute. He held the salver out for Foster to take the glass, then left.

Alvarez was as surprised as outraged by the appalling manners of his not being offered a drink while Foster enjoyed champagne.

Foster put his glass down on a runner on the small table at his side. ‘Do you intend to say why you're here?'

‘I need to speak to all who knew Señor Gill in order to learn if there was the possibility someone had reason to wish him dead.'

‘Then I am unable to assist you.'

‘Have you ever been to a party at his house?'

‘Once, since I did not realize the mixed nature of the event.'

‘Was there trouble during that party?'

‘Are you here because of that bloody stupid nonsense?'

‘If you are referring to an incident concerning the maid, Eva, yes, I am. I believe Señor Gill ordered you out of his house and told the manservant to make certain you left immediately because you had molested his maid.'

‘Quite incapable of understanding I could never behave in the manner he claimed.'

‘Did you molest her?'

‘Damn your insolent question!'

‘More than one person has told me that you did.'

‘Give me their names and I'll sue them for slander.'

‘Would you like to tell me what did happen?'

‘The waiting was so poor, I had to go into another room to refill my glass. The maid started to come out, holding a tray of canapés, didn't look where she was going and banged in to me. The tray went for a burton; I had to hold on to her to save myself falling. The next thing is, she starts screaming.'

‘It was pure chance your hand ended up under her skirt?'

‘That is a monstrous lie.'

‘Eva claims you ran your hand up her leg.'

‘An uneducated woman's fantasy.'

‘She also says you fondled her body.'

‘Perverted imagination.'

‘You deny the allegations?'

‘You imagine I would mess around with a maid?'

‘Why not?'

‘I doubt you are capable of understanding that a person in my position would never betray himself in such a manner.'

‘Did you have a friend present who will confirm your account of events?'

‘You are inferring I'm a bloody liar?'

‘I have made no such inference, señor.'

‘Haven't you just asked for corroboration?'

‘That is necessary since at the moment, it is just your word against Eva's.'

‘You'd give her evidence the same weight as mine?'

‘Why not? You must have been very angry when you understood how people would be regarding you with amused contempt. You decided to return to Aquila and have a row with Señor Gill. When you arrived, he was, by chance, on his own. Mary was in Palma and the staff were away. Señor Gill was either studying or photographing the orchid of which he was so proud and therefore was beyond the fencing. What happened then? Did the opportunity to gain revenge on the man who had named you a lecherous bounder become too great to resist? You approached him, saying you were there to apologize, and pushed him over the edge?'

‘Ignorant absurdity.'

‘What is your friend's name and address?'

There was a long silence before Foster finally said: ‘Harrison. Flat four, Neckham, Port Llueso.'

‘One final question. Where were you around one in the afternoon on Friday the fourth?'

‘Is that when he fell? I don't know where I was and I don't give a damn.'

Alvarez stood. ‘It would be to your benefit to remember.' He went into the hall and approached the front door. Perez hurried past him to open it. ‘A fruitful meeting, Inspector?'

Alvarez was in the car before he thought of a smart answer.

N
eckham was a four-storey block which had replaced one of the old family homes along the pine walk. As he approached the building, Alvarez's annoyance increased. One more feature of the past had vanished in the name of profit. Years previously, the row of large, detached houses, each within its own grounds, luxurious by the standards of the day, had been owned by the grandees, mainly from Palma, who had occupied them during the summer and often at times of festivals. Now there were many fewer and those which remained had often been split into two or three flats.

Hot and slightly breathless from the walk, he turned into the small garden and continued into the lobby which was lined with lightly engraved glass. How much more attractive had been ancient wood and lime-washed walls. The name board by the post boxes set in the wall listed G. Harrison on the top floor. He crossed to the lift – one modernism of which he approved.

Under the switchboard was a button on its own, marked ‘Penthouse'. He pressed this. Through a small grill, a man asked: ‘Who is it?' Obviously, the hoi polloi were to be kept at bay. He gave his name.

The lift rose, stopped, and the door opened. A man was waiting in the long passageall. Tall, balding, he wore an open-neck shirt and linen shorts. On his right wrist was a gold Rolex.

‘Señor Harrison?'

‘Yes.'

‘I apologize for troubling you, but I have some questions I'd like to ask.'

‘No doubt, following your visit to Mr Foster?'