‘Yes; as far as my involvement’s concerned at least. I’m sorry I didn’t contact you myself, but I wasn’t able to. I hope you didn’t worry too much.’
‘Primavera, once upon a time you had us all thinking you were dead, for the best part of a year, and then you popped up again. After that experience, I can switch off worry where you’re concerned. I never had any doubt that you’d take care of whatever it was.’
‘Did you tell Dawn?’ I asked.
He has a lovely soft chuckle that’s always made me feel warm. ‘My dear, most people who know me are free to believe that I’m slightly round the bend, but it upsets me if they imagine I’m stupid with it. Of course I did not tell your sister; that would have been unspeakably cruel.’
‘Dad, she has a right to know about family problems; she has to learn how to handle crises maturely.’
‘She never will; she’s a throwback to my mother. She was as excitable as a wasp’s byke poked with a stick. No, I meant that it would have been cruel to Miles. He’d have had to handle the flak; I like my son-in-law far too much to do that to him. Anyway, what would have been the point? You’re fine, as I always knew you would be.’
‘I love you, Dad. Come and see us soon, yes?’
‘Book me a flight, give me the usual notice, and I’ll be there.’
‘Will do.’ That’s our usual arrangement. Dad wouldn’t know how to go about booking his own travel, so Dawn and I do it for him. ‘See you in a month or so, then.’
I was smiling as I ended the call, standing in the doorway that opens from the living room on to the patio; smiling at the thought of him, but also at my home village. There had been times during the week gone by when I’d been at my lowest, when I’d feared that I’d never see it again. Had I panicked? Hell no, I’d missed arrest by minutes, and as Gerard had warned, once inside the Spanish judicial system, escape is pretty much impossible. And he should know, I thought; but for his brother’s intervention all those years ago, it might have swallowed him. Thinking of him, I called him again, on both numbers, but had the same response on each. I stepped on to the terrace far enough for me to see the front of the church, but there was no sign of activity there, and his car wasn’t in its usual slot in the parking area to my right.
I was about to step back inside when my name was called, from the square. I recognised the voice. I turned and walked to the patio railing. ‘Hello, Alex,’ I replied. He was out of uniform, looking up at me; he was frowning, and I don’t suppose I was beaming at him.
‘Fancy a drink?’ he asked.
‘Sure, as long as I can come back home afterwards.’
He smiled, and the ice was broken. When I joined him at a table in front of Meson del Conde, having told Mac where I was going, there was a lime-wedged Coronita waiting for me. I was glad I hadn’t got round to the second one I’d promised myself earlier. ‘When did you get back?’ His voice was quiet, conversational.
‘About an hour ago.’
‘Going to tell me where you were?’
‘Do you need to know?’
‘No.’
‘Best I don’t then.’
‘Yes, I suppose. It’s none of my business anyway; Hector and I have been taken off the investigation. But can I assume that you know that, since you’re home again?’
‘Yes, I knew about it. I’m sorry if it’s affected you career-wise, Alex.’
‘It hasn’t; I’m the new boy in Girona, remember. The bosses in Barcelona have barely heard of me. For Hector it’s not so good; they’ve told him that he ran a shoddy investigation, that he made a few facts fit a convenient suspect and that he quit far too early.’
I shrugged as I pushed the lime down into the neck of the bottle. ‘I can’t disagree with any of that,’ I admitted.
‘Maybe not, but it wasn’t all his fault. He reports to the public prosecutor; he’s an ambitious guy, on the lookout for quick results and high-profile cases. He saw both in you, so he told Hector to arrest you, purely on the basis of your palm print on that chair, even before Dolores’s body was found in your trustero. I tried to stall him, and I succeeded for a day or so. You must have noticed that he didn’t come over to talk to you at Angel’s funeral reception. It would have been too awkward; that was why. After Friday morning, though. . I shouldn’t say this, but I’m glad you got away. I’m not going to put you in an awkward place by asking you how, for I can guess anyway.’ He paused. ‘As for Hector, yes, he’s in the doghouse for now, but Madrid has crapped on the public prosecutor. The right people know what happened, so it won’t harm him long term.’
‘If you get the chance, tell him I’m sorry.’
‘Why should you be? You’re the one who was being set up, and we’re the guys who fell for it.’
‘I’m still sorry that he’s in trouble. I didn’t mean for that to happen.’
He stared at me. ‘How could you have made it happen?’ His eyes widened even more as it dawned on him. ‘It was your government, wasn’t it? You did like Senor Reid, you got to your consulate and made a complaint of false accusation. Then you hid somewhere while they put it right, or they hid you. That’s the story, isn’t it?’
‘It was my government,’ I conceded, ‘but that’s not exactly how it happened. Don’t ask me any more about that either, Alex, for I really can’t tell you.’
‘Whatever, I’m glad it’s worked out. You know I did what I could to help, don’t you?’ he added. ‘Even after you’d gone.’
I smiled at him. ‘If by answering “yes” I’m not going to incriminate anyone, then yes. If I am, then I don’t know what you’re talking about.’
He nodded, and smiled.
‘What else do you hear?’ I asked him. ‘I might be on solid ground again, but I’ve still got an interest in this. I’m as keen to solve this mystery as you guys are.’
‘I don’t hear much, Primavera, not any more. The new team, the guys from Barcelona, they’ve been told not to speak to Hector and me. Mostly they’re sticking to that, but I did my recruit training with one of them; he’s been telling me stuff.’
‘About DNA, linking all three crime scenes?’
‘How the hell did you know about that?’ he exclaimed. ‘Or that they were looking at three scenes now? Mother of God, Primavera, who are you?’
‘I’m your daughter’s fairy godmother, that’s all. So what’s your friend been saying?’
‘They’ve identified a common DNA pattern from each of the three locations; only one, but the new prosecutor reckons it’s grounds for action. They’re ready to make an arrest, so it looks as if pretty soon you’re going to know who it is that’s had it in for you. As for me, I have no idea. That’s as far as my pal would go; he said that it was more than his career was worth to tell me anything else.’
‘I can wait,’ I said, unashamedly vindictive, ‘but when I find out I’m going to savour the moment. This character would have seen me go down for the rest of my life; I hope he doesn’t forget that as he contemplates his.’
Forty-five
I took Tom to school next morning; it was the end of term and he was hyper, so I judged it best not to let him take his new bike, in case he got carried away and started doing tricks on it. He was curious about the Suzuki in the garage; I told him the simple truth, that I’d been using it while I was away, and that seemed to satisfy him.
Since it was right next door I went to the gym after I’d dropped him off, and put myself through a fairly strenuous workout, partly to sweat off the extra kilo that I’d acquired with all that eating in Santi’s Granada haunts. I thought of him as I ran; chances were he was halfway across the Atlantic, bound for Los Angeles in his flying bus.
I thought of his brother too: I’d heard nothing from him and had called him again before I’d left the house, with no more success than the day before. I thought of what had been said at Shirley’s; we’d both been very emotional, but I knew that I’d stepped across the invisible barrier that I’d put between us. I thought of what I’d said on the phone in Granada, about the last resort, and of how he’d reacted. The more I thought about it, the more I came to realise that was why his mobile was switched off. He knew that our old relationship had been compromised, at the very least, and that next time we spoke I was going to have some very personal questions to put to him. . all the more personal now that I knew about Irena. There was a relationship with a woman in his past. Had he been put off for life by its horrible conclusion, or did he feel at least some of what I felt for him? I had to hear his answer, and strangely, I was scared by the prospect. . whatever he might say. If he turned me down. . it would be the end even of what we’d had. If he said, ‘Yes, I do love you and want you’. . Jesus, that might be even tougher to handle. He might insist that we leave St Martí. Would I do that for him? I’d have to; my sacrifice would have to match his.