‘But if their evidence is as strong as they say. .’
‘Let’s see what a lawyer thinks of it. Will the church appoint someone to act for him?’
‘My dear, the church is not used to having its priests accused of murder. There isn’t a precedent for this. It will need to be considered.’
I could hear the mills of God grinding, exceedingly slowly. ‘We don’t have time for that. Father, you’ve been here for a long time. Who’s the best advocate in this area?’
‘From what I’ve heard, that would be Josep Villamas. He has an office in Figueras, and he’s very well known in the courts. He lives in L’Escala; he’s a member of my congregation.’
‘Can you give me a number for him? I’d look it up myself, but I’m on the beach with my son.’
‘I think so. Give me a moment.’ I waited, listening to a rustling of paper in the background. ‘Yes,’ he said finally, then gave me two numbers, one local, the other, by its prefix, the office in Figueras. I keyed both into the memory of my phone. ‘Thanks, Father. I’m going to call him right now and instruct him.’
‘He’ll be expensive,’ the old man warned. ‘We priests are poor men, and there’s no guarantee that the bishop will agree to meet the cost, whatever the temptation to which Gerard may have succumbed.’
‘Cost isn’t an issue,’ I told him. ‘When I have something positive to tell you, I’ll let you know. You’ll be at home, yes.’
‘Yes.’ He paused. ‘Apart from this evening, and tomorrow, of course.’
‘What happens then?’
‘Dolores Fumado’s funeral is tomorrow morning. It’s at eleven.’
‘I didn’t know.’
‘The body is being released to Justine and Elena this morning; it will be received into the church this evening.’
‘Then let’s hope we can put this nonsense to bed in time for Gerard to assist you at the requiem Mass.’
‘You are one of life’s optimists, my dear.’
‘I wasn’t a week ago; that’s something else I owe to him.’
He wished me good luck, but he still sounded low.
Tom wanted me to come into the water with him, but I told him I wasn’t swimming that day. He knows that sometimes I don’t, and he never asks why. Instead I called the Figueras number. A woman answered, in Catalan. I gave her my name and asked if I could speak to her boss. I expected her to ask me what I wanted, but she put me straight through.
I got down to business. No time for pleasantries; with lawyers the clock is always ticking. ‘Senor Villamas, I want to instruct you to undertake the defence of my friend Gerard Hernanz. He was arrested early this morning, and is being charged with two murders.’
‘And with fabricating evidence against you, Senora Blackstone,’ the advocate added, in a deep rolling voice; he sounded as Morgan Freeman would if he spoke Catalan. (Maybe old Morgan does: I don’t know.)
‘So you’ve heard what’s happened?’
‘Yes, I was told a few hours ago. When I learned of it I went straight to Girona, and offered my services to Father Hernanz. I know the man. He’s heard my confession, often. I like him very much, and I could not credit what I’d been told. He refused to see me; a policeman came to tell me that he’d said he didn’t want a lawyer, and that if one was appointed by the court, he’d refuse to cooperate with him. To be frank, I didn’t believe the officer, and I told him as much. I threatened to go straight to the court to demand access. He went away and returned a few minutes later with a handwritten note from Father Hernanz confirming what he had said the first time. And more; the message said that if I was asked to act for someone else in this matter. . I suspect that he meant you. . it would serve no purpose. He said that if the police have evidence against him, they can present it. He’ll let God defend him, and judge him.’
‘Does God have a law degree?’ I exploded. ‘Does he have much experience on the Bench? I’m sorry, Senor Villamas,’ I added at once. ‘I’m not getting at you. It’s just that he’s so. .’
‘Resigned, I’m afraid,’ the lawyer said. ‘He seems to be accepting his guilt.’
‘Well, I won’t,’ I declared.
‘You may have no choice. After I’d left the police officer, I spoke to the prosecutor. I know the man; he’s very experienced, very capable and he’s in no doubt that he’ll secure a conviction. I’m sorry, I wish I could help, but other than appearing as a character witness when it comes to sentencing, there’s nothing I can do.’
What the hell is he thinking about? He was all that I could think about, as I lay on the lounger, propped up on my elbows, keeping an eye on Tom as he tried to catch a cresting wave with his mini surfboard. The whole thing was fantastic. Why would Gerard want to kill Planas? What possible reason could he have? The man had called you a whore, and you told him that over dinner. So what? Is that a reason to kill a man? What did he do when Irena was attacked? That was years ago, and it was rape, a far different thing. Unless, in his eyes, it was an insult he couldn’t tolerate. ‘Rubbish, Primavera,’ I said aloud. And then I remembered anew what he’d said in La Lluna and I shuddered.
‘As for calling you a whore, if he was a younger man, I would take off my collar and meet him after dark.’
Had he decided that Planas wasn’t that old after all? ‘Stop it!’ I called out, so loudly that a woman three mushrooms along turned and looked, to see what was happening. I fixed her with a glare, and she went back to her book. I wouldn’t believe it, I told myself, I couldn’t believe it; but so much seemed to fit.
For once in my life I could not think of a single thing to do. I needed someone else’s input, but whose? Santi. Of course, Santi. He’d come up with something. But then I saw the snags. I didn’t have a contact number for him. I didn’t know where he was, but given the time it takes to fly from Barajas to LAX, I was pretty sure he’d be nowhere in Spain. I didn’t know for sure what airline he was with. I’d assumed that it was Iberia, but I couldn’t be certain, for he hadn’t mentioned it. Even if it was, I’d have been surprised if they had put me in touch with him, at least until they’d checked me out. I could try, and I would, but I held out no great hopes. Only one man could put me in touch with him quickly, and he was locked up in Girona.
I’d had enough of the beach. I was restless, plus, the wind was getting stronger by the minute. I called to Tom that it was time to go and feed Charlie. . that always works faster than simply, ‘Time to go, Tom’. . rolled up my towel and stuffed it away in my bag.
The dog was pleased to see us, although he wasn’t fed until I’d made Tom stand under the cold shower in a corner of the garden to get rid of the considerable amount of beach that he’d brought back with him, then towel off before he went inside to fill Charlie’s bowl. He was halfway through his evening ration. . That meant he’d been at it for less than half a minute. Have you ever seen a Labrador eat?. . when I heard the phone ring in the hall. I was sand-free myself by this time so I stepped indoors and picked it up.
‘Senora Blackstone?’ A man’s voice.
‘Yes.’
‘My name is Comisari Nino Valdes,’ he said. ‘I am now in charge of the investigation into the deaths of Senor Planas and Senora Fumado.’ A commissioner, I registered. They have brought in the big guns. ‘I don’t know if you are aware, but we have a man in custody in respect of the two crimes.’
‘Yes,’ I snapped. ‘I am aware of it, and I’m quite certain that it’s the wrong man.’