A Maze of Murders (17 page)

‘Why should I disapprove of you?'

‘Because of my dreadful sense of humour. Although, in my defence, it was really Larry who was to blame. I told him we'd embarrassed you with the stupid joke, but he said you'd just laugh when you found out what “importuning” meant. Now you can tell me, who was right?'

‘I was embarrassed by my ignorance, amused by your joke.'

‘A tactful let-out, if ever I've heard one!' She smiled, then changed the subject. ‘Larry brought me here yesterday morning and I thought the village so attractive I wanted to explore and then sit outside a café and linger over a drink, but he was in too much of a hurry, so I've come back to do just that today … I suppose you're on your way home?'

‘Regretfully, no. I don't finish work until seven-thirty or eight.'

‘I always forget that working hours here are so very different.'

It was interesting, he thought, how her straightforward, casually friendly manner so immediately identified her as either British or American. Had she been Spanish, or for that matter of any other continental nationality, in her bearing there would have been a hint of sexual query, if not provocation …

‘Well, I mustn't keep you from your work any longer.'

There were aspects of the case which still perplexed him. Were he to offer her a drink, it would be natural to talk about matters of which they both had cognizance and, if he were careful, there should be no reason for her to suspect the true motive for his invitation. ‘Señorita, I do not, for once, need to hurry back to my work, so perhaps I might offer you a drink to linger over?'

‘That would be great. But on one condition: you remember I'm Phoebe, not “señorita”.'

They climbed the steps to the levelled part of the square, crossed to where tables were set out, and sat under the shade of a tree. A waiter took their order.

She settled back in the chair. ‘I wonder why it seems so natural to do this here, yet it becomes an affectation in England?'

‘Perhaps because in Spain it is natural to do what one enjoys doing.'

‘Are you suggesting that back home it isn't?'

‘I've always understood that the British feel it is sinful to enjoy too much pleasure.'

‘That was long ago. Nowadays, commentators often say that the decline of the nation is due to our pursuing pleasure too hard.'

‘Which surely shows an underlying disapproval?'

She laughed.

He noticed how the flesh about her eyes crinkled to extend the laugh right up her face. ‘Are you staying on the island long?'

‘Probably until Vera and Larry get fed up with me. At home … Let's just say, something happened and I needed to get away from everything. It's odd, but I feel more at rest when I'm with them than I do with my own family. I suppose it's because my family is usually squabbling, whereas they seem to agree about everything.'

This gave him the lead-in he'd wanted. ‘I had the impression that they at least disagree about Señor Lewis.'

‘Hardly surprising.'

‘Why d'you say that?'

‘Because when I met him, I took an immediate dislike to him. Cocky and aggressive.'

‘Yet I understand Señora Clough was very kind to him?'

‘From the day she first met him at Fenella's, she's let him take her for a ride, and that despite all Larry's warnings.'

‘I suppose she was upset by his death?'

‘Of course. She's no fool and I'm sure that in part she recognized him for what he was, but she's an incurable optimist and managed to hide that recognition by believing he could become what she wished him to be.' She paused, then said uncertainly: ‘Am I beginning to sound like a wannabe psychologist?'

‘Far from it. I think you understand people.'

‘Sometimes. But never myself.' She stared into the distance.

His first summation had been wrong, he decided. True, by classical standards she was no great beauty, but her open looks possessed their own considerable charm … About to ask her a further question concerning the Cloughs and Lewis, he decided against doing so for fear she should suspect his stratagem. ‘Would you like another drink?'

‘D'you know, I'm afraid I really would! It's such fun just watching the world drift by.'

Lucky the man who brought her joy.

CHAPTER 20

‘What did the superior chief say?' Jaime asked, as he poured himself another drink.

Alvarez, who'd been deep in thought, looked up. ‘What's that?'

Jaime repeated the question.

‘I told you yesterday at lunch.'

‘No, you didn't because I wasn't here.'

‘Weren't you?'

‘Seems you aren't all here now … Did the superior chief chew you up?'

‘I didn't get to talk to him because he's off duty after doing in his back on a round of golf. Great game.'

Jaime drank deeply. ‘About the problem of the whisky and the glasses. I've been thinking. You know what?'

‘Tell me.'

‘The bloke stayed awake longer than the women and cleaned everything up before he passed out so as they'd never know what he'd been up to. How's that?'

‘Ingenious.'

The telephone rang. After a while, Dolores put her head through the bead curtain, stared at them, sighed, came through and hurried into the front room.

Jaime drained his glass. As he refilled it, he said: ‘I've always reckoned I'd be good at your job. I mean, I notice things and I have ideas. That's all there is to it.'

‘I suppose that's about right.'

There was the sound of shouting and Isabel, closely pursued by Juan, ran into the room. She swerved to avoid Alvarez's chair, cannoned into the corner of the table and fell, began to whimper. Juan jeered at her. Forgetting her woes, she lashed out with her feet and caught him a blow on his left ankle that made him bellow with pain. As he hopped around, he called her several names, none of which was flattering.

‘How dare you speak like that!' Dolores said from the doorway of the front room.

It was many days since her voice had held a note of such sharp authority. Juan hastened to excuse himself. ‘I was…'

‘Speaking filth.'

‘She kicked me and nearly broke my ankle.'

‘I didn't,' Isabel protested.

‘Yes, you did.'

‘You pushed me into the chair.'

‘You ran into it because you're stupid.'

‘Be quiet!' Dolores snapped. ‘Juan, go to your room.'

‘But…'

‘One more word of argument and you'll have just bread and olive oil for supper. And if I ever again hear you speaking to your sister in such foul terms, I will wash your mouth out with lejia.'

Juan left, grimacing threats at his sister when certain Dolores could not see his face. Isabel began to sob.

‘Stop snivelling.'

‘He hurt my shoulder…'

‘If you snivel every time a male causes you pain, you will have no time for anything else.' She placed her hands on her hips and glared at Jaime. ‘You know where your son learns the filth he speaks in the house, don't you?'

‘The other boys.'

‘From his father. A man who drinks until he is utterly careless about the appalling example he provides for his poor children.'

‘Steady on there!'

‘Who destroys their innocence without a moment's remorse because drink has robbed him of every decent emotion.'

‘Why are you going on like that? This is my first glass…'

‘You think me so stupid I'll believe any lie, no matter how preposterous?'

‘Will you calm down?'

‘But perhaps you are right to laugh at me. After all, I married you.' She swept out of the room and into the kitchen.

Jaime said resentfully: ‘She's lucky I'm easy going and didn't tell her something.'

She put her head through the bead curtain. ‘And what would your drink-laden words have told me?'

Jaime remained silent.

‘More lies, so absurd that not even a five-year-old would believe them?' She withdrew. A moment later, there were sounds from the kitchen of things being banged about.

Jaime drank, then said in a low voice: ‘Sweet Mary, but it's good to know there's nothing wrong with her after all!'

*   *   *

It had not been a cheerful meal. Dolores had been so aggressively vigilant that even though the opened bottle of wine had provided the two men with no more than a tumblerful each, they had deemed it prudent not to reach into the sideboard for another bottle.

As Alvarez ate the last of the baked almonds and banana, he looked at his watch.

‘You are in a hurry?' Dolores asked.

He swallowed. ‘I have to go out. Work.'

‘Indeed. Then you didn't change into a clean shirt because you are meeting someone?'

He never ceased to be astonished by her ability to notice things he would have preferred her not to. ‘The shirt I was wearing got dirty during the day.'

‘And you shaved for a second time because your beard had grown twice as quickly as usual?'

He reached for his glass, realized it was empty.

‘Why are men so stupid?' She looked across the table. ‘Isabel, Juan, you may get down.'

They gratefully hurried out of the room.

‘Men always hope their lies, however pathetic, will be believed. My husband tells me he has had only the one drink, never realizing that when I went to answer the phone his glass was empty, when I returned, it was not; my cousin says he has changed his shirt and shaved for a second time as he is in a hurry to leave the house because he has to work – work! Aiee! Since it is men who govern, should we be surprised that all is chaos?'

Alvarez said: ‘I've had to arrange to meet someone. For the image of the Cuerpo, I need to look neat and tidy.'

‘And is this someone a woman?'

‘What does that matter?'

She looked up at the ceiling. ‘He asks me, does that matter! Does he think I can have forgotten – though how I wish I could – all the times he has made a ridiculous spectacle of himself by lusting after foreign females young enough to be his daughter instead of having the sense to become friendly with a decent Mallorquin woman of property whose husband has recently died?'

‘There's no reason to go on like this. I'm only seeing her because –'

‘Then she is a woman!'

‘Because she can help me with my investigation.'

‘Is she foreign?'

‘Yes, but…'

‘And half your age?'

‘That's ridiculous. She may be a little younger…'

She stood. ‘My cousin is so lost to any sense of shame that he sits in the square, where all can see him, drinking with a woman who is less than half his age and dressed in such a way that decent people avert their gaze!'

‘Whoever phoned you earlier obviously didn't avert her gaze. Presumably, she's not decent?'

She held her head high and, lustrous dark brown eyes smouldering, marched through to the kitchen.

‘You've really done it,' Jaime said, a note of admiration in his voice.

*   *   *

Alvarez turned into the small car park on the front and came to a stop when he saw Phoebe standing by a green Mercedes on the opposite side. The lightest of breezes was stirring loose strands of her hair and these played a desultory tag across her forehead and cheeks; her frock was simple in design, yet it suited her with sophisticated smartness. Discretion and unwitting provocation, he thought. A combination that could well spell danger for a man less mature than himself.

She saw him and came across. He leaned over to open the passenger door and she sat, settling a beach-bag at her feet. ‘I'm sorry I'm late,' he said.

‘Is it really possible to be late in this country?'

He smiled.

‘Where are we going?'

‘I wondered if you'd like a drive to the lighthouse and, either before or after, have a drink at the Hotel Parelona?'

‘That sounds ideal. Larry was talking about the hotel only yesterday and reckons it really does live up to its name. He also said that after the tourists have left the beach, the swimming's fabulous … Have you brought your costume?'

‘I'm not a keen swimmer.'

‘When you live here? Shame on you!'

The drive, long in time but not in distance, was seldom less than dramatic, with constantly varying views of idyllic bays, glass-smooth sea, monstrous cliffs, and ever more hills.

On the descent towards the hotel, he said: ‘We're coming to the point of turning off for the lighthouse. What would you like to do: carry on and come back for a drink, or stop now?'

‘Which do you suggest?'

‘If we carry on, we can see the sun set; sometimes the sea can look as if it's on fire.'

‘That would be a fitting climax to such an exciting drive. We simply can't miss the chance of that. What's more, it'll mean I'll have my swim in the dark, which is twice as much fun because of the mystery.'

There were more questions he had intended surreptitiously to put, but she was so obviously enjoying herself it struck him that to question her tonight would be to mock her naivety. As he changed gear and turned left, he assured himself that his decision had been made on purely professional grounds.

They drove for several kilometres along what had become a nearly level road, then this began to climb once more, passed through a tunnel, and became increasingly tortuous until it finally brought them to the lighthouse, on the tip of the island.

As if to order, the setting sun turned the water a glittering, golden red.

‘Wow!' she said.

Hardly a poetic reaction, but not even lines by Felipe Almunia could have pleased him more.

*   *   *

They had two drinks on the gently lit terrace of the hotel, then walked through the gardens to the beach. He sat at the base of a palm tree. He had expected her to move well away to change because there was some moonlight, but she remained where she was. As he looked firmly out to sea, he heard the quick rasp of a zip being unfastened. He tried very hard not to imagine the consequences of that evocative sound …