A Question of Motive (21 page)

There was a silence.

‘Now I know why a woman's never in the wrong,' Jaime said as he reached for the bottle.

‘You will drink no more,' she snapped.

‘I've only had . . .'

‘Far more than you should.'

Jaime showed unusual resistance. ‘Since when has a wife had the right to dictate how much her husband drinks?'

‘Since she made the mistake of marrying him.'

Alvarez drove ever more slowly up to Aquila, not from fear of the death-edged road, but because he did not wish to arrive. When Dolores had given her advice, it had seemed very positive; now he was not so sure.

He reached the house and braked to a halt. He opened the door and waited, he knew not for what – miracles had gone out of fashion. Parra left the house and crossed to the car. ‘Good afternoon, Inspector.'

‘Is the señorita here?'

‘May I suggest you do not leave your car?'

‘Why not?'

‘I have been told you are no longer welcome in the house.'

‘I have to speak to her.'

‘I did not make myself clear?'

‘Quite clear. So I'll do the same. I am going inside and speaking to the señorita and if you get in my way, you'll end up on your arse.'

‘Is that a threat of violence?'

‘Make of it what you will?' Alvarez left the car, pulled the door free of Parra's hand and slammed it shut, crossed to the front door, went inside.

Mary came out of the sitting room. ‘Didn't Pablo tell you to go away?'

‘He did.'

‘Then would you please do so.'

‘After you said what you thought of me last time, d'you think I'd be here now if I didn't have to be?'

She looked past Alvarez. ‘Pablo.'

‘Señorita?'

‘Phone the police and say a man has broken into my house and I want them to come and remove him.'

Alvarez said: ‘If the policia come here, Mary, it will be to take you to the village for questioning.'

‘Oh, my God! You're threatening me now!'

‘No. But my superior chief refuses to listen to reason.'

She turned. ‘All right, Pablo. There's nothing we can do in the face of the bullying.'

‘I will stay to make certain he does not molest you, señorita.'

Alvarez said, ‘You will disappear quickly, or I'll have you arrested.'

‘If you . . .'

‘Pablo, please leave before the inspector enjoys the pleasure of trying to prove himself the big man he would like us to believe him to be.'

Parra left. She went into the sitting room and closed the door behind herself. Alvarez opened it and entered. ‘Please try to understand, Mary . . .'

‘Señorita Farren.'

‘Of course it was ridiculous to think your friend, Señor Kiernan, could possibly have had any part in the death of your uncle, but I was ordered to question him to find out whether he had been trying to escape the repayment of the money he owed . . .'

‘He owed nothing.'

‘I knew that after speaking to you.'

‘No. Only after the accountants had finished their work. Someone capable of any understanding would have known without their pawing through uncle's papers.'

‘I hated causing you so much bitter distress.'

‘You kept your emotions very well hidden.'

‘You think I enjoyed upsetting you? I've said, I was ordered to make those enquiries.'

‘And that justifies them? The Nazi war criminals tried to justify their brutalities on the grounds of orders. Most of them were hanged.'

‘You'd like to see me hanged?'

‘You have no room for the feelings of others, no sense of remorse for what you are doing. An order is an order.'

Contrary to Dolores' belief, his words had enraged, not pacified. ‘You obviously want me out of here . . .'

‘Pablo made it very clear I did not wish you to enter the house, but being a bully, you threatened him. Had he decided physically to prevent your coming in, you would, of course, have claimed his action could not be excused on the grounds of my order.'

‘I'll leave as soon as I've asked something.'

‘Is it which of my uncle's other friends should become the next suspect?'

‘Have you remembered anyone you saw in Palma on the fourth who will remember the meeting?'

‘You . . . You've come here to find out if I killed Robin. When I loved him for his kindness, his humanity . . .' Tears slid down her cheeks.

‘Please try to remember someone,' he pleaded.

She spoke with difficulty. ‘If it'll get rid of you. I was in Perfección. Buying a frock because Robin was going to give a special party and I wanted to look as nice as I can. Then when I got back home, he wasn't there and I just thought he . . .' She ran out of the room and he heard her hurry up the stairs.

As he walked to the front door and opened it, Parra appeared.

‘I doubt you'll bother to come back, Inspector.'

On his drive down from Aquila, Alvarez did not once pay heed to the deadly perils he was facing.

T
he phone rang. Alvarez reluctantly picked up the receiver and identified himself.

‘The superior chief will speak to you,' Angela Torres said.

The way she had spoken suggested he was being granted an honour. It was one he would have happily rejected.

Salas spoke without any preliminary greeting. ‘Have you questioned Señorita Farren?'

‘I am recently back from having done so, señor.'

‘Why didn't you get in touch the moment you returned?'

‘When I said “recently”, I meant I had only just done so.'

‘It would be an advantage if you learned the recognized meaning of words.'

There was a silence.

‘Do you intend to make a report?'

‘It took me time and considerable effort to persuade the señorita to answer me and . . .'

‘There is no reason to waste time over irrelevant details.'

‘They were relevant at the time.'

‘Why are you prevaricating? Is it because you allowed her to refuse to answer you?'

‘I am trying to explain it was only by telling her it was your fault that I encouraged her to answer me.'

‘What the devil caused you to make that ridiculous and incorrect allegation?'

‘You had ordered me to question the Kiernans because they were suspects. Had I not made that clear and had personally believed the accusation to be ridiculous, she would never have given me the information she did. There has been even more trouble. You insisted she be treated as the prime suspect. When I arrived at Aquila earlier, the manservant tried to prevent my entering the house on her orders. However, I went inside and persuaded her that she had to give me an alibi. That seemed to make it obvious that I was now wondering if she had murdered her uncle. She was deeply upset and . . .'

‘Was she able to provide an alibi?'

‘She had been in Palma, buying a dress in a shop called Perfección. It is a very expensive shop, but ladies seem willing to spend a great deal of money on themselves.'

‘I am very well aware of that. My wife . . . Continue.'

‘I spoke on the phone to the manageress and asked if she could confirm the facts. She checked the sales' records and on the fourth, at twelve thirty-five hours, Señorita Farren bought a frock for four hundred and fifty euros.'

‘Was it made of gold thread?'

‘I don't think it's all that expensive by modern prices.'

‘I believe you are not married. You will leave such inane remarks to those who are.'

‘She paid by credit card. The person who made the sale could remember that the woman in question suffered from a facial disfigurement. Despite your insistence that the señorita was the prime suspect, there can be no doubt the buyer was the señorita and therefore could not have been responsible for her uncle's death.'

‘Is it ignorance or incompetency which causes you to refuse to consider the possibility she hired someone else to carry out the actual murder?'

‘That is as impossible as your naming her a suspect.'

‘If that is so, has it yet occurred to you that everyone whom you believed had a motive has now been cleared of involvement in the death?'

‘Yes, señor.'

‘Have you conjured up further fantastical motives?'

‘No, señor.'

‘You still deny the possibility of suicide?'

‘Yes, señor.'

‘So have you come to any conclusion?'

‘The señor's death was an accident.'

‘My understanding was that you were certain it could not have been.'

‘With all the evidence . . . It did seem . . . The forensic surgeon's findings were that although there were no signs of contact with the cliff face, it was possible the bruising could have been caused during the fall.'

‘Was there not mention of a blow about which you have made great play?'

‘Yes.'

‘And the surgeon said it might also have occurred during the fall, but as there was no damage to the clothing, that did seem unlikely.'

‘He didn't say “unlikely”.'

‘He understood your capabilities?'

‘One can't always be right.'

‘Yet on the contrary, one can always be wrong.'

‘Señor, I could only . . .'

‘Because I made the mistake of accepting your judgments, I allowed you to continue an investigation which has been a waste of my time and of yours. In the latter case, such waste is of little account.' Salas rang off.

There was satisfaction in completing a case, even when completion had produced only allegations of incompetence. No longer did he have to try to remember what he was supposed to have done and hadn't; whether there was inescapable reason to speak to Salas or the necessity of expecting Salas to be in touch with him. He could take a little longer to enjoy his
merienda
; he could steal those few extra minutes for his siesta which were more valuable than those which had gone before.

‘It's good to see you smiling once more,' Dolores said as they ate.

‘Life is once more bearable with the case over and done with.' He refilled his glass.

‘And the niece was not as nasty as you expected?'

‘Not . . .' He remembered. ‘She was not, because I carefully followed your advice.'

‘Bet she thought you were overdoing things,' Jaime said.

‘You are implying something?' she asked sharply.

‘It did seem you wanted him to lay it on with a trowel.'

‘Naturally you would think that, since you are unable to understand a woman needs kindness, the occasional word of praise, an appreciation of how she sacrifices herself for others.'

‘If I started to talk to you as you said he was to do to that woman . . .'

‘Your words would be intended to hide your refusal to do as asked or I had discovered what you had not done.'

‘Wasn't Enrique merely putting up a smokescreen?'

‘You cannot understand what I am saying because you have difficulty in considering anyone but yourself.'

‘Doesn't matter what I say or do, I'm in the wrong.'

‘That is true.' She spoke to Alvarez. ‘Do you have to see her again?'

‘No, thank goodness.'

‘Why do you say that? I thought you liked her.'

‘The relationship has entered the deep freeze. Further, every time she sees me, inevitably she's sharply reminded of her uncle's death.'

‘She must be suffering greatly.'

‘When she has a few million euros in the bank?' Jaime asked.

‘Spoken like a man! If you win El Gordo this Christmas, I can be certain I will become of no interest to you since money will provide you with so much more than I can.'

‘You know that's not how it is. You twist everything I say. I couldn't live without you. I wouldn't know how to continue. I would be dead while I was still living.'

‘You wield a trowel too heavy for your strength,' she snapped.

Salas had not rung since Monday, not even to complain because he had not received the written report on the fatal accident suffered by Señor Robin Gill on Barca. Eventually, Alvarez acknowledged, he would have to draw up that report, but it seemed nothing was lost by leaving it until tomorrow.

He sat back in the chair and rested his shoes on the desk. Saturday was not long away. Then, he would enjoy the pleasure to be gained from letting the world slide by. The contemplation of a forthcoming pleasure could be almost as pleasurable as the pleasure itself. Provided no major case suddenly disrupted everything, he would slide away from work a little early, have a coñac at the Club Llueso and return home for a drink before lunch. It was too hot for a heavy dish so perhaps Dolores would cook Riñones en salsa. Popularly not thought of as a grand dish, but in her magical hands it became one. Then a siesta, whose boundaries would not be limited by the need to return to work. In the evening, meeting old friends in Club Llueso. Dinner at home. Bacalao a la riojana? Dried cod, chorizo, onions, tomatoes, pimientos, pepper, olive oil . . .

The phone rang.

‘Tollo here, Enrique.'

‘Who?'

‘You're the great inspector today? I'll remind you who I am. Not so long back, we took Matilde and Natalia to watch the Mar Déu del Arme, and it turned out you'd chosen the uncooperative one.'

‘I remember nothing of the sort.'

‘Convenient memory.'

‘It's an offence to slander a member of the cuerpo.'

‘It's a pleasure.'

‘Are you still running a contract service for farmers?'

‘What if I am?'

‘I'll be along to make certain all your equipment is safe.'

‘Not your job.'

‘I'll have received a complaint and will call in a qualified inspector who will uncover many problems.'

‘You can be a real sod!'