‘We have a very good informal system for spreading the word. We put the details on notices in shop windows and on lamp posts, all through the old town. It works.’
‘What about the other parts of L’Escala?’
Out of the corner of my eye, I caught a smile on his face. ‘To my father, the modern areas barely existed.’
He set to pedalling, and I cranked up my speed a little, putting further discourse beyond either of us. I finished my programme with a sprint, then wound down for a couple of minutes, before stepping off the treadmill. As my heart rate settled back to normal I did some stretching exercises, until finally I reckoned I had burned off most of my raging hormones. I waved goodbye to Angel and went back to the changing room.
By the time I made it back to L’Escala, looking presentable and fit for the day. . I tend to use very little make-up, just Garnier sun cream as a base and a little lippie, and keep my hair shortish and spiky, the straight from the shower look. . I had worked off breakfast and was fairly hungry. It was still well shy of eleven, but Meson del Conde’s tables were out and ready for the day, so Charlie and I sat down and I asked Cisco for a cortado. . a café solo with milk. . a bottle of Vichy Catalan, a croissant and a dish of water for the dog.
I had just killed the coffee and was tucking into the crab-like roll when Ben Simmers came into the square, looking neither right nor left but heading straight for my house, his distinctive gait so brisk that it was almost a trot.
‘Hey!’ I called to him, between bites. ‘If you’re looking for me, try here.’
He spun round, saw me and came across to my table.
‘Want a coffee?’ I asked.
‘No, no time.’
He seemed more than a little agitated. ‘OK,’ I said, ‘quit acting like the white fucking rabbit and tell me what’s up.’
‘My mum,’ he blurted out. ‘She’s down at the shop, and she’s in a hell of a state. Can you come?’
‘Of course.’ I picked up the bottled water, stuffed the rest of the croissant into my mouth, tossed a ten on the table for Cisco, and followed him. Charlie wasn’t best pleased, but he came too, perking up at once when he realised that he was going to see his pals.
Ingrid Reid was standing beside Ben’s counter when I got there. As soon as I was inside, her son closed the door and flipped the sign round to read ‘Shut’ in three languages. I looked at her; her eyes were red, and she was chewing at her bottom lip.
‘What is it?’ I asked again.
‘It’s Matt,’ she replied in a quiet, scared voice. ‘He’s been arrested.’
‘What? When?’
‘Half an hour ago. They arrived at the house, demanded to see him and told him, not asked, mind you, to come with them. He asked them what it was about, but they wouldn’t tell him. I asked if I could come, but they said no.’
‘Which police, Ingrid, the Mossos or the locals?’
‘The Mossos; the serious ones.’
‘Can you describe them?’
‘Both dark-haired. The older one, the one who did the talking, he was in his early forties, I’d have said, quite bulky. The other one was younger and slimmer. He at least had the good grace to say “Sorry” to me as they took him away.’
She had described Gomez and Alex. ‘What language did they speak?’
‘Spanish. I understood some of it.’
‘Did they tell you where they were taking him?’
‘No.’
Ben stared at me. ‘It has to be connected,’ he murmured.
I nodded. ‘Must be.’
‘Connected with what?’ Ingrid wailed.
‘Planas.’
‘Who?’
‘The man Matthew and I went to see on Friday; José-Luis Planas.’
‘Him? Matthew was livid when he got back from that meeting. He was muttering about going back down there to sort him out; Matt has a temper on him, you know.’
I let out a great, gasping breath. ‘Jesus, Ingrid, don’t ever say that to anyone else.’
‘Why not?’ she retorted, crossly. ‘What’s this man done that the police have arrested Matt?’
‘You don’t know?’ Ben asked.
‘No, we’ve hardly been out of the house since Saturday. Matt had a bit of a head in the morning. He went out with a pal on Friday night.’
‘When did he get in, Mum?’
‘God knows. I was asleep by that time. He confessed that they wound up in JoJo’s bar. But forget about that. What about this man Planas?’
‘He’s dead, Ingrid,’ I said, trying to sound as calm as possible. ‘He was murdered.’ I paused. ‘Matt didn’t go back to see him on Friday, did he?’
‘No. I talked him down. He was still angry, though.’
‘Too much information, Mum.’
She glared at him. ‘Don’t be silly.’ Then the centivo dropped, and her mouth fell open with it. ‘They don’t think he. . Oh my God, that’s ridiculous.’
‘Don’t let’s go that far,’ I said. ‘I know these people. They’re formal, but they’re very correct.’
‘But what can we do? He’s in there all alone. His Spanish is OK, but he’ll be vulnerable if they question him.’ She looked at me, hopefully. ‘Primavera, could you go and ask if you can translate for him?’
I sighed. ‘I don’t think they’d let me. I was in the room with him when he met Planas.’ I thought about the situation. She was right, and I was kicking myself. He did need somebody in there, and I’d probably made it worse by neglecting to tell Gomez that he’d come with me to the Planas meeting. Through a detective’s rheumy and jaundiced eye, I might be seen to have been covering up for him.
‘Do you know any lawyers?’ Ingrid asked.
‘Not this kind,’ I admitted, ‘and anyway, he might not be entitled to one under Spanish law.’ Then an idea hit me. ‘But there is someone they’d have difficulty keeping out of there.’
Twenty
I was right; Gerard told me that when he presented himself, in uniform, at the Mossos office, asking to speak to Intendant Gomez, the desk officer was so taken aback that she didn’t even think to ask why. Instead, she asked him to wait for a moment, disappeared through a door behind her, and returned a minute later with the detective.
But Gomez wasn’t alone. Matthew Reid was with him, free to leave. Gerard asked no questions; he drove him straight to St Martí, where I’d told him that Ben, Ingrid and I would be waiting. His wife burst into tears as soon as she saw him; once she had calmed down I took them and Gerard up to my place, leaving Ben to reopen the shop. The square was busy as we walked through. I hoped he hadn’t lost too much business.
As he sat on one of my kitchen chairs, Matthew seemed almost as bemused by the experience as Ingrid had been. I offered them a drink, but they both settled for coffee. ‘First time in my life I’ve ever been arrested,’ he muttered, as he took his from me, ‘and it has to be here. And you know I’m still not entirely clear what it was about.’
Gerard leaned forward in his chair, forearms on his knees. ‘What did they ask you?’
‘The older one wanted to know why I’d been to see Planas on Friday. I told them that I’ve been looking around for property for my son.’
‘Is that all?’ I exclaimed.
‘They didn’t mention you, Primavera, and neither did I. That was what I said when I arranged the meeting, so I didn’t lie.’ He took a sip from his mug. ‘Then the young one asked what we’d argued about. He said that one of Planas’s staff, the guy, had told them he could hear the noise in the outer office, for all that the door’s pretty thick. I told him that I’d taken exception to his manner.’
‘You didn’t tell them it was Planas and Primavera who had the argument?’ asked Gerard.
‘Why bring her into it?’ he retorted.
‘Because I am in it,’ I sighed, ‘because they already know I was there. Jesus. . sorry, Gerard. . you’re as bad as me. I didn’t tell them that you were there when I saw Planas. They’ll think we’re covering for each other. . they’ll be right too. . and they’ll wonder why.’
‘The old bastard must have made a complaint against us, Primavera,’ Matthew declared. ‘Mind you,’ he continued, ‘that doesn’t explain why they were so keen to know what I’d been doing on Friday night. . unless my mate and I got a bit outrageous and somebody made a separate complaint about that. They wanted to know everywhere I’d been; I told them that we’d started in Escalenc and wound up in JoJo’s, then. .’