In Search of Murder--An Inspector Alvarez Mallorcan Mystery

Table of Contents

Cover

A Selection of Recent Titles by Roderic Jeffries

Title Page

Copyright

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

AN AIR OF MURDER *

AN ARCADIAN DEATH

AN ARTISTIC WAY TO GO

DEFINITELY DECEASED *

AN ENIGMATIC DISAPPEARANCE

IN SEARCH OF MURDER *

AN INSTINCTIVE SOLUTION *

AN INTRIGUING MURDER *

MURDER DELAYED *

MURDER'S LONG MEMORY

MURDER NEEDS IMAGINATION *

MURDER MAJORCAN STYLE *

MURDERED BY NATURE *

A QUESTION OF MOTIVE *

RELATIVELY DANGEROUS

SEEING IS DECEIVING *

A SUNNY DISAPPEARANCE *

SUN, SEA AND MURDER *

TOO CLEVER BY HALF

 

*
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First published in Great Britain 2013 by
SEVERN HOUSE PUBLISHERS LTD of
9–15 High Street, Sutton, Surrey, England, SM1 1DF.

First published in the USA 2014 by
SEVERN HOUSE PUBLISHERS of
110 East 59
^th
Street, New York, N.Y. 10022

eBook edition first published in 2014 by Severn House Digital
an imprint of Severn House Publishers Limited

Copyright © 2013 by Roderic Jeffries

The right of Roderic Jeffries to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs & Patents Act 1988.

British Library Cataloguing in Publication Data

Jeffries, Roderic, 1926–author.

In search of murder. – (An Inspector Alvarez mystery; 37)

1. Alvarez, Enrique (Fictitious character)–Fiction.

2. Police–Spain–Majorca–Fiction. 3. Murder–

Investigation–Fiction. 4. Detective and mystery stories.

I. Title II. Series

823.9'14-dc23

ISBN-13: 978-07278-8353-7

ISBN-13: 978-1-78010-498-0 (ePub)

Except where actual historical events and characters are being described for the storyline of this novel, all situations in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to living persons is purely coincidental.

This eBook produced by
Palimpsest Book Production Limited,
Falkirk, Stirlingshire, Scotland.

L
ouisa looked across the pedestrianized road at a woman on the beach who had just stood to rearrange the towel on which she was sunbathing. ‘There's Myrtle. Rather silly of her to wear a mini.'

Serena said, ‘Who's that with her?'

‘Her cousin.'

‘Just for his stay?'

‘That's what she says and he does have the same tired look. He's officially at the Bay Hotel.'

‘They say that's become rather downmarket.'

‘Out here, what hasn't?'

Louisa regarded her empty glass. ‘Just for once, shall we have another?'

‘Why not?'

She signalled a waiter, who did not immediately respond. ‘They're getting ever slower.'

‘They're islanders.'

The waiter walked a zigzag between tables and chairs. Louisa stood as he reached them. ‘I'm losing the shade. You can move my chair.' She was convinced she spoke good Castilian.

‘Certainly, señora,' he answered in English. He picked up her chair and moved it under the full shade of the sun umbrella secured through the centre of the table.

Louisa sat. ‘Two gins and tonics and make certain it's Gordon's and not some kind of home brew from Menorca.'

‘Two Gordon's gin.' He picked up the empty glasses, placed them on his tray, returned into the bar.

‘Did I tell you I met Neil the other day?' Louisa asked.

‘Which one?'

‘Picare. George introduced me.'

‘I thought you'd met Neil before?'

‘George didn't know that so he was his usual pushy self.'

‘The ex-pats' shaker and mover.'

‘He likes helping people.'

‘And the drinks they feel bound to offer in return. Was Neil in one of his more pleasant moods?'

‘Very pleased-to-meet-you mode.'

The waiter returned, placed glasses on the table, spiked the bill, hurried to answer a call from another table.

‘He invited us to pre-lunch drinks,' Louisa continued.

‘Was the wife around?'

‘George isn't married.'

‘Of course he isn't. Was Neil's wife there?'

‘Back in England for a week.'

‘That explains …'

‘What?'

‘It's probably someone trying to be nasty.'

‘So much more interesting than someone trying to be nice. Whose marriage vows is he hoping to help break this time?'

‘Jane Calvert's.'

‘Very unlikely. She lacks the courage to take the risk of Eustace finding out.'

‘So, what did you think of the house?'

‘Wonderful situation and with all that glass, it's like living in a view. But God only knows what the air-conditioning costs.'

‘He won't worry about that. So, you've yet to meet the wife …'

‘Well, tell me, what's she like?' Louisa asked.

‘I wouldn't want to sound snobbish …'

‘Overcome the bourgeois reluctance.'

‘It's not difficult to think they're right and she did serve behind the bar before they married. By the way, did he say they're going to give a get-to-know-you party.'

‘The only people who'll bother to go will be the usual crowd who cannot forego free food and drink. He did ask George where he should buy the champagne.'

‘Why, when one can get cava everywhere? I suppose they'll be out to make an impression and serve Non Plus Ultra.'

‘Not cava, Champagne; Krug.'

‘I was forgetting that the pleasures of the common man are not for them. Have you any idea where all his money came from?'

‘No, because, surprisingly, he didn't talk about it. But there were paintings of Suffolk and Clydesdale horses on a wall in the study. Maybe he had something to do with farming.'

‘Farmers don't make his kind of money.'

‘Then he just liked the heavy breeds.'

‘He married Cecily.'

A
lvarez was awakened by the telephone; it took him a moment to accept he was in the office. As he used the arms of the chair to draw himself upright, the ringing ceased. He relaxed, closed his eyes. Something ignored should be forgotten.

The phone rang again. He swore, reached out and lifted the receiver. ‘Tell me.'

‘Is that Inspector Alvarez?'

He was tempted to deny the fact.

‘Policia Umbert here, Puerto Llueso.'

Any local policia should have known better than to ring him early in the afternoon. When he looked at his watch, he was surprised to find it was late afternoon.

‘Inspector, I am reporting the death of Señor Picare who lived in Vista Bonita.'

‘Normal or accidental death is the policia's concern.'

‘After the doctor had examined the dead man, he said I was to suggest you came here as soon as possible.'

‘Why?'

‘He said nothing more to me or Rosalía.'

‘Who's she?'

‘The cook.'

‘Who else is there?'

The señora and Marta who works in the house and the cleaner Carolina.'

‘Is the señora hysterical?' Hysterical women made a man helpless.

‘She's in bed.'

‘Has she been given a sedative?'

‘Dr Ferrer said—'

‘Ferrer?'

‘Yes.'

Alvarez had visited the medical centre a short time before because he had judged himself to be suffering from something. Ferrer had examined him. ‘Your complaint is your lifestyle. Stop smoking, exercise a lot more, eat a lot less and restrict your drinking to half a glass of red wine and a tin of lager each day.' Why hadn't he suggested an alternative cure: suicide?

‘Are you still there, inspector?' Umbert asked.

‘Who found the body?'

‘Rosalía. Managed to get him out of the pool, but when the doctor arrived, he pronounced the señor dead.'

‘Was it a heart attack, a stroke?'

‘The doctor said he drowned.'

‘How?'

‘In the swimming pool.'

‘I'll be there as soon as I can.'

‘The doctor said you should come immediately.'

‘He can wait.'

He studied a plan of Urbanization Reus and located Vista Bonita on the top road which ran along the flank of Puig Grege.

He left the office, walked along to the old square and Club Llueso. Roca, the barman, moved along the bar. ‘Don't often see you at this time of the day. Not able to enjoy your siesta?'

‘A coñac without comment.'

‘You lead a rough life.'

‘Cheer me up me up by telling me more things I know.'

‘When you're miserable, you like to make everyone else feel miserable.' Roca moved away. Alvarez brought out a pack of cigarettes, tapped one loose, lit it.

Roca returned with a filled glass. ‘Has someone tried to blow up the government and failed to make you so cheerful?'

‘A doctor.'

‘And said you're fit enough to continue working?'

‘I'm waiting for the verdict.'

Roca looked uneasy. ‘I … I hope I've not been speaking out of tune?'

‘How could I yet know?' Alvarez drank.

‘Here, you're not …? Is the trouble serious?'

‘So far, no one can tell.'

‘I'm damned sorry, Enrique.'

‘Forget it.'

Roca picked up Alvarez's glass, refilled it. ‘At a time like this, one needs help.'

Alvarez turned off the main road and on to the side one which led to Puig Menor, at the foot of which were several houses and bungalows. Originally, there had been several requests for permission to build on the crest of the high hill, or low mountain, but these had been denied until the weight of the brown envelope matched expectation.

The road had not looked particularly steep, but it was poorly fenced and to a man who suffered from altophobia, it was dangerous; a slight mistake and the car might veer over the side, turn over and over, land with such force that it burst into flames. Care and luck enabled him to reach the top without disaster. Vista Bonita was large and in appearance typically Mallorquin – many different roof levels which provided a cheerful, higgledy-piggledy outline.

He parked alongside a red-and-yellow painted policia car, knocked on the panelled front door, rang the bell. The door was opened by a young woman and beyond her he had a shortened view of a hall, sharply illuminated by the sunlight coming through the ceiling lantern. Air-conditioning kept the area cool.

He introduced himself, since it seemed she would say nothing, asked her name.