Corruption's Price: A Spanish Deceit (36 page)

"The last element is the operating system. Installing a new one obliterates anything that was there before. Not only has that eliminated any copy on the laptop of your smartphone, if it was even there, but it's effectively recreated the laptop."

Alfredo understood that he was talking too much, even going round in circles. As much as he wanted to convince Marta he needed to convince himself.

Marta was aware of this. She needed something to cling as much as he. Her own sense of the situation was Garibey had not made much progress. Yet he still might. There was a focus to his approach, and even about the man, which disturbed her. She couldn't put a finger on why. But he made her insides quiver in undesirable anticipation. Her sleep was now constantly interrupted by visions of what might happen next.

"We have some other good news."

"What's that?"

"Puri's coming to Madrid for the weekend. I've booked us three rooms in a small boutique hotel in San Lorenzo de El Escorial. We can always add a fourth, if you like?"

"I'm not sure. Salvador returned to Valencia yesterday morning though he did say he'd come back to provide support. The big issue is what to say to his wife. Constantly trying to knock sense into his sister can go only so far as an excuse even if it's also true that his sister's proving way more unreceptive to financial planning than he ever expected."

"I think a weekend to walk in the mountains and around San Lorenzo would do us all good. Puri and I want to meet Salvador. I hope you and he will agree to come?"

"To see Puri is always good. She calms us both ... Yes, I'll come, as long as I'm not a spare wheel with you two. I'll also ask Salvador."

"Marta, may I ask you a related question?"

"Of course."

"Does this affair with Salvador have legs? I mean, would you like it to become more serious than what it has been so far?"

"Leading questions from my lawyer?" She smiled lopsidedly, in a naïve way that reminded Alfredo of why he had made passes at her for so long. She really was a handsome lady, with lots going for her, especially when she smiled that particular smile. He was truly glad that he had introduced Marta and Puri. He wondered if Salvador could become a part of her future.

"If you'd asked me two or three months ago I would've said that Salvador and I were just enjoying ourselves. But something happened. No, not directly to do with this questioning and no I'm not going to tell you what. Yet this
Juez's
questioning process has been relevant. It's enabled the two of us to share more than just screwing each other's brains out – for that was the previous reality. Sorry. I'm being crude but honest."

She went on to describe how the change occurred imperceptibly. She discovered he was miserable, trapped in a marriage with a wife who had little interest in doing anything other than producing babies and raising them at his expense. She could feel his pain, that he felt reduced. It was only after this had emerged, in parallel with being able to discuss her own woes, that their deeper bonds started to form.

"To return to your question, I don't know. Part of me would love to be with him long-term. Part of me would like to see the back of my own husband who's now an apathetic sport-on-TV addict with the social talents of a corner flag in his precious Mestalla stadium. Part of me fears change and what may or may not be. Part of me desperately wants almost any sort of change.

"You think I'm confused? You're right. This Garibey business hasn't made anything any easier. At one point I'd thought that I might gradually be arriving at a new peace. Now that illusion looks like shattering."

"Calm yourself, Marta. I can relate to much of what you say, if from a man's viewpoint. The initial months with Puri were enchanting and hell at the same time. I felt simultaneously guilty, oppressed and released. That's a strange combination. It was only when I stopped seeing Puri for a while ... Did she tell you?"

Marta shook her head.

"Clearly not. It was after six months without her that a new perspective arrived, fed by a particular bout of holy fervour from my wife, who insisted on going to Lourdes for a month. That window reopened the door to Puri. We've never looked back."

"I'll call Salvador. You encourage me. At least we know we've nothing more with Garibey until next week at the earliest."

Friday: Madrid

Ana was beside herself with apprehension. She had been busy doing her normal ORS work. One consequence was that she had not progressed much on the list of names and references that Caterina had prepared for her at Emilia's command.

At home yesterday she had begun again, but only in a desultory way. She had resumed, with a touch more enthusiasm, on the way out to ORS. On the Metro she felt that she was recognising something, though exactly what continued to elude her.

Now, leaving ORS, she was ever more convinced something existed within those pages, but this required discussion or debate. It was not something she could get to the bottom of alone. She'd tried Pedro but he was too tied up, as were Lucas and Carlos – not that she thought them sufficient. They were good guys but lacking in intellect.

Ana caught herself. She was again being ungenerous. She didn't like herself for it.

Interestingly, Pedro had suggested Davide. She would not have dared. But with Pedro's explicit support she had arranged to meet Davide midway between their two homes, in a place that she particularly liked and where she felt comfortable.

Now Ana, while waiting for him, used the time to plough through more of the paperwork. She had made it simpler to carry around by sending it to her tablet. This had the advantage in that she could make handwritten annotations on-screen using its stylus. Not only were these notations recorded but, if needed, they could be printed out. This was a boon she hadn't expected when she bought this particular device. Thank God for technology.

When Davide walked in she regarded him from afar. He didn't look good – more like shattered or ill. She waved him over.

"Are you okay, Davide? If you'll forgive me, you look awful. Have you flu or a virus? Would you prefer to go to bed? Because that's what you look like you need."

"Thank you, Ana. Bed would be lovely. I've barely slept the past two nights and I'm someone who needs his beauty sleep. I'm not one of those who can go without rest for a night and still function."

"So why aren't you sleeping? Or am I intruding by asking?"

"No, you're not. In fact it's good to get it out. The long and the short of it is that Caterina has thrown another of her wobblies. I don't know if I am pleased or resigned."

"Excuse me. I don't understand. What are 'wobblies'?"

"That's tough to explain. Let me put it another way. Caterina and I have an established record of not quite managing to get it together. When she came to Madrid matters seemed to resolve themselves for the better."

Davide winced.

"As you'll have noticed, she's temperamental and highly-strung. From experience she's incapable of knowing what she wants for more than five minutes. At any sign of discomfort or threat, real or perceived, she runs away, like she's done now. I'm once again the butt and stupid enough to allow myself to be repeatedly kicked.

"No matter. She's disappeared. She is around because she's still doing work for Pedro but isn't living
chez moi
. Instead I have the delightful Emilia along with all of her own quite different contradictions."

Davide changed tack. "What is it with Australians? I can't even blame my ancestors for sending all those English or Irish convicts to Australia."

"Why not?"

"Because that pair have not a millilitre of English or Irish blood in them – it's Italian, Portuguese, or Spanish – as they've been only too pleased to remind me whenever it suits."

"
You must be suffering." As she said it, Ana wondered if this was the opportunity she had wanted but not expected. Was this a moment to exploit or to stay clear? She could almost hear long-expired teenage hormones reassembling and wanting to rattle.

"I am, but nearly all of this mess is of my own making. Anyhow, let's change the subject. How are you? What's been going on? Bring me up to date. May we have a drink before we start?"

After ordering, Ana spent almost an hour covering progress. She had not understood, until she thought through his questions, how far out of the loop he had become. He listened to her patiently, in an encouraging way. It warmed her. Perhaps not being so involved explained something of his dissatisfaction.

Gradually she worked round to the list. She carefully avoided mentioning Caterina and its preparation. She did reemphasise Pedro's encouragement to talk to Davide.

"Why do you and he think I can help?"

"I'm not certain but I must talk with someone. I fear making connections that work for me but are not credible to others."

"You mean you don't want to be caught out?"

Ana stared at him across the table. Was that an implied criticism? She wasn't sure she liked the implication.

Davide recognised her expression. "I'm not trying to criticise. Rather, I empathise. It can be difficult when you have an idea or see what you think is a pattern. If you're like me you don't trust yourself. You want to be right. Equally you don't want to look a fool. I've been there often enough. It's both exciting and lonely."

He trailed off as if remembering something or somebody.

Ana killed her rising antipathy. He had captured the essence of what she was feeling, and expressed it better than she herself could. All of a sudden she felt a kinship, though she was far from certain she could convince him.

Davide shook himself literally. His eyes refocused.

"So what d'you have?"

Pointing to her tablet, Ana said, "It's all on here. If I sit beside you I can take you through what made me call Pedro. You can tell me if you think I'm crazy."

She moved round the table and positioned the tablet so that they could both see the screen. In doing so she felt good being close, almost hip to hip. It would not take much to close those few millimetres, by artful accident if she played her cards right.

"Look here. I've taken the list of all the M-Out payments from the smartphone files and sorted them. It's a fairly long list. I'm also pretty sure that this column refers to the method of payment. My guess is 'sob' or 'sobr' – both are used – is shorthand for
sobres
or envelopes. My guess is that 'ef' refers to
efectivo
or cash transfer by hand. If right, 'ch' could be for
cheques
, though there are few of these. I don't know what '
cart
' might refer to. Possibly '
cartas',
as in letters or possibly cards, as in credit or debit cards?"

She continued for a long while, taking Davide down the various paths of her thought processes. He prompted. He questioned. He challenged. Ana found she liked the combination. It made her feel respected, wanted and special somehow.

Several drinks later, even after diving down the occasional rat hole, she became aware that they now were sitting thigh-to-thigh. She hadn't noticed. Had she moved? Had he moved? It didn't matter as she listened to and basked in his approval.

What was an undeniably pleasant sensation was all of a sudden ruined all by Davide phoning Pedro: "I recommend you talk with Ana as soon as possible. I'm convinced."

Friday: Madrid

Juez
Garibey felt fractious. This week had already been long. Now he had to question Luis Zavala himself, a man with a solid reputation for being difficult. Already El Cerámico had made his distaste for appearing clear though, curiously, he had not been unwilling. This was puzzling.

In the
Sala
Juez
Garibey found a single person at the witness table, namely a small, sun-browned man with a deeply-tanned face that hid his age well. Garibey knew that Luis Zavala was in his late seventies or maybe early eighties. This was not obvious, especially when dressed so smartly. That tie must be Italian silk. It was fashionable, almost too much so for his age.

As on previous days there were the legal processes to run through. Once complete, he turned to El Cerámico, remarking that he had not brought a lawyer with him

"Very observant,
Señoría
. I don't trust them. I've been my own adviser for over sixty years now. I don't propose to change."

"That's up to you. I will, however, do my best not to let the law intimidate. If you decide you wish to change your mind you can do so at any time."

Garibey and Luis Zavala eyed each other with a wary mutual respect, perhaps born of recognition that both were coming to the ends of their working lives.

"I would like, Señor, to ask about payments received from three companies."

"Don't tell me; Constructores Equilibris, MMH and ServiArquitectos?"

"How did you anticipate?"

"Everybody seems to want to know something about these three."

"What do you mean 'everybody'? Who?"

"First there was my advisor, Señora Márquez, telling me about some American outfit called OverPayment Recovery Services. Also there was the
gerente
of Overpayment visiting me to tell me to repay monies. Isn't that enough?"