A Maze of Murders (15 page)

‘You remember the man whose photograph you were shown by the local police?'

She nodded.

‘Who was renting this place when he called?'

‘Two sisters. Leastwise, one of 'em was here all the time, the other only for a bit.'

‘Tell me about them. What were their names?'

‘Couldn't say.'

‘You're not given a list of the people who'll be staying here?'

‘The company just tells me when someone's coming.'

Her suddenly blanked expression suggested she could read only with the greatest difficulty – when she had been young, schooling had cost money and her family had probably not been able to afford even the few pesetas necessary. He would have liked to tell her that far from feeling shame because she could not read, she should be proud that she had done everything possible to make certain her children had a full education, but knew it would be kinder not to pursue the matter. ‘So there was just the one sister to start with? What kind of person was she?'

She shrugged her shoulders.

‘Pleasant?'

‘Not really. Not like the other. Maybe they looked alike, except for the hair, but she acted like she was some great person's wife while the other was always friendly.'

‘When did the second sister arrive here?'

‘A few days later, just after the friend left.'

‘What friend?'

‘The man that stayed for three days.'

‘Here, in the house?'

‘Haven't I just said?'

‘Where did he sleep?'

‘Where d'you think?'

‘With her?'

‘Only he didn't want me to know, so he tried to make out he spent the night in the second bedroom.'

‘How do you know he didn't?'

‘I make the beds in the morning, don't I? His sheets were hardly ruffled, hers looked like the two of 'em had been running races.'

‘Maybe he was a sound sleeper and she was a very restless one?'

‘You think I can't tell after all the beds I've made for foreigners? In any case, once he'd left, her bed was different.'

‘You've seen a photograph of Señor Lewis. Can you remember who was living here when he called that day?'

‘The two of 'em.'

‘Which two?' he asked patiently.

‘The sisters.'

‘Tell me about his visit.'

She had a peasant's memory for details. She'd been sweeping down the patio, because there'd been a wind which had brought sand from Africa, when there'd been a ring on the front door bell. The señoras had been out. The Englishman had been so stupid he couldn't understand what she'd been trying to tell him even though she'd spoken as simply as if to a child. In the end, without a word of thanks or even a smile, he'd driven off.

‘Did he return another time?'

She shrugged her shoulders. ‘Didn't see him again.'

‘How did the two sisters get on together?'

The question puzzled her, so he simplified it.

‘They seemed to be friendly enough,' she said.

‘Did they leave together?'

‘Must have done.'

‘Why do you say that?'

‘The let ended on my rest day, so they was gone when I returned to get the house ready for the next lot.'

He finished his coffee, put the mug down on the kitchen table. ‘Can you describe the sisters and the male friend?'

She found it more difficult than most to provide word pictures. They weren't young any more, but didn't look old – when you hadn't worked in the fields, you could hide the years much more easily. The blonde had used lots of make-up, the black-haired sister hardly any; one dressed up, the other hadn't seemed to mind what clothes she wore. The one was as mean as a lawyer from Santiago – she'd not left as much as a peseta in her bedroom; the other was the most generous of señoras and left twenty thousand – yes, twenty thousand. No other señora had ever approached such generosity. The money had bought her son a new jacket which he'd been needing for a long time …

As he listened to her, he gloomily realized that if he possessed any intelligence, before he'd left the island he would have obtained a photograph of Vera Clough. ‘Tell me about the señor.'

He was something of a hidalgo. Pleasant, but kind of distant; smartly dressed; often smiling, but usually with his mouth and not his eyes.

‘Did he have a neat moustache?'

She looked at him with some surprise. ‘How did you know that?'

*   *   *

He drove back to Playa de Samallera and eventually found a parking space, but much further from the letting agency's offices than he would have wished. The walk left him sweating profusely.

‘Are you all right?' said the young woman behind the counter.

He mopped his face with a handkerchief. ‘I hope so,' he answered breathlessly. ‘Cuerpo General de Policia. Will you give me the names of the tourists who hired Casa Escarpa in the Pellapuig urbanización in May and June.'

‘Sure … Why don't you sit down while I look through the files.'

He sat, still breathing heavily. He wondered if all his promises to diet, stop smoking, and drink less, were about to levy their price for his having repeatedly broken them; was his heart about to tear itself apart …

‘Here we are,' she said, as she studied the VDU. ‘Shall I print them out for you?'

All the bookings had been made in the UK and with one exception in the names of couples; that exception was for a booking from 25 May to 8 June, by Mrs F. Dewar.

CHAPTER 18

Television had introduced the outside world to the inhabitants of Llueso, but not necessarily eradicated the belief that it was an alien, dangerous place. Dolores hugged Alvarez as if he were indeed lucky to have returned home. When she finally released him, she said: ‘Jaime took me to the fishmonger in Playa Neuva early this morning so I could make you Oblades amb bolets for lunch. You like that, don't you?'

‘Cooked by you, it is a slice of heaven.' That was true. No one could prepare turbot as she could.

‘And I've bought two bottles of Gran Coronas to enjoy with it.'

Had any man ever enjoyed so rich a homecoming?

*   *   *

In the conventional sense, Son Preda was not a beautiful house, but for him, especially seen in the early evening sunshine, it possessed an attraction no palace could because it had so obviously been built to serve the land, not impress people.

The elder maid opened the front door and showed him into the room with the flintlock rifles on the walls. Within the minute, Clough entered. ‘Good evening.'

‘I am sorry to trouble you again, señor, but I have one or two more questions to ask.'

‘Without questions, a detective would be like a car with no petrol … I'm glad you've called because I want to say that when I spoke to you over the phone the other day I'm sure I sounded very discourteous. The fact is, my wife was upset by your visit and that made me unsettled; always does. I'm sure you'll understand.'

‘But of course, señor.'

‘Good. Then before we come to the “one or two questions”, let me get you a drink. What would you like?'

‘A coñac with just ice, if I may.'

‘Grab a seat while I go and get it.'

Once seated, Alvarez let his mind wander. The gods had showered their gifts; he was the owner of Son Preda. He would call back the older men who had lost faith in themselves because they had been made redundant either by rising costs or mechanization and he would restore that faith by employing them on the estate. They would harvest the almonds, algarrobos, and olives with long bamboos, their wrists and forearms once more picking up the rhythm of the work …

The door opened and a woman entered the room in a rush, came to a sudden halt. ‘I thought Larry was here.'

He always had difficulty in judging a woman's age, but was reasonably certain she was in her middle twenties. Reasonably attractive, was his immediate assessment, but only in a very un-Spanish manner – she lacked any sense of groomed, smooth sophistication. Her bouncy golden hair, deep blue eyes, freckled face, pert nose, and generous mouth provided the gamin appearance that seemed so popular in more northerly and less critical climes. He said: ‘Señor Clough left a moment ago. I am sure he will be returning very soon.'

‘Then I'll wait. By the way, I'm Phoebe Owen.'

‘My name is Enrique Alvarez, señorita.'

‘Isn't Enrique the Spanish for Henry?'

‘I believe so.'

Clough entered, two glasses on a silver salver. ‘Hullo, Phoebe. Not roasting yourself?'

‘I decided I'd better come out of the sun for a while.'

‘Signs of common sense?'

‘Signs, but no certainty.'

He smiled. ‘I see you've met the inspector.'

‘He didn't say he was an inspector. Of police?'

Clough put one glass down on the occasional table by Alvarez's side. ‘Of the Cuerpo General de Policia, if I remember correctly … I'm sorry, but I'm going to have to suggest you wander, Phe. The inspector's here on business.'

‘He's going to arrest you?'

‘I hope not; not with the golf tournament fast approaching and a thousand peseta bet on myself … If you see Vera, tell her that if she'd like a drink, I've put three or four bottles of champagne in the fridge.'

‘Will do.' She left.

Clough sat. ‘She's a distant cousin, but I can never remember how many times removed. Over here for sun and solace. When one yearns to be young again, one forgets that that would mean suffering endless emotional upsets once more … Now, how can I help you?'

‘Do you know Señora Fenella Dewar?'

He drank, held the glass in his hand and stared down at it for several seconds, then looked up at Alvarez. ‘My sister-in-law. Now tell me, why should you be the slightest bit interested in whether or not we know each other?'

‘I have been making inquiries and learned that the señora rented Casa Escarpa in the Pellapuig urbanizacíon which is near Playa de Samallera, south of Barcelona.'

‘I see.'

‘I understand your wife stayed with Señora Dewar at Casa Escarpa.'

‘Indeed. And had a pleasant few days, despite their being sisters.'

‘They are not as companionable as one might hope?'

‘Sibling rivalries are far more common than idealists would have us believe. Unfortunately, my sister-in-law is of a very jealous nature.'

‘Did you visit Casa Escarpa?'

‘Yes.'

‘At a time when your wife was not there?'

‘That's right.'

‘Does your wife know about your visit?'

Clough smiled. ‘Professional experience forces you to suspect the worst? In this case, without justification. Business problems had been dragging on and I decided on a direct approach to the people concerned and flew out to Würzburg. It was a hard slog, but I got most of what I wanted. I went from Frankfurt to Barcelona and hired a car to drive down to Pellapuig, expecting to find my wife at the house. Instead, I learned she'd cancelled her flight from England. Naturally worried, I phoned to find out what was wrong and she told me she'd suffered a nasty bout of migraine and simply wasn't up to travelling yet. I told her I'd get back as soon as I could find a flight, but she insisted I stay for a few days because she reckoned I needed the break, even if short. In the event, I had to leave before she arrived.'

‘I spoke to Susana and she…'

‘Who's Susana?'

‘The maid who worked in the house.'

‘D'you know, this is the first time I've learned her name! I tried to communicate with her, but with conspicuous and often amusing lack of success.'

‘She suggested to me that Señora Dewar and you shared the same bed.'

Clough laughed.

‘It is not true?'

‘I'd have to think very hard to suggest something less likely.'

‘She told me that each morning your bed was so little disturbed you could not have slept in it all night, whereas the señora's bed was in a state of considerable disturbance.'

‘I am a peaceful sleeper; obviously, Fenella is a very restless one.'

‘I suggested this to Susana. She said that the señora's bed was very much less disturbed after you'd left.'

‘She sounds to me like a frustrated woman eager to read all sorts of things into a creased sheet. Is she married?'

‘She is a widow.'

‘There's the explanation. But maybe it'll be best if you have a word with my wife; she can confirm the impossibility of my having an affair with Fenella.'

‘For the moment, there is no need to disturb her.'

‘She'll be amused, not disturbed. In any case, sooner or later you're going to demand to talk to her, so why not now?'

‘Why do you say that?'

‘You'll want to know why she's been lying as well as I.'

Alvarez hoped he didn't look as surprised as he felt. The next question showed he had.

‘You went to Pellapuig because you learned that Neil had been there. Isn't that so?'

‘In a way.'

‘Surely, in every way?… I'll find Vera.' He left.

Alvarez drained his glass. His ace had been well and truly trumped.

Clough returned with Vera. She greeted Alvarez briefly, sat on one of the armchairs, said: ‘Larry, can I have a drink?'

‘I told Phe to offer you champagne, but obviously she didn't find you. I'll do the honours and at the same time recharge our glasses.' He picked up Alvarez's glass and his own, left the room again.

She nervously faced Alvarez. ‘Larry says you seem to believe it possible that my sister and he were having an affair?'

‘Señora, perhaps you would prefer to wait until your husband returns before we discuss the matter?'

‘No, I would not.'

He was surprised by the sudden firmness with which she spoke.