I was thinking as she was speaking. ‘He actually said that it was his venture?’
‘Yes. I asked him about that, and he said that he’d have “significant equity”. Those were the words he used. When I asked him if the Lithuanian was involved, he said he couldn’t name his associates in an insecure message, but I’m sure he is.’
‘Did he ever mention the name Lidia Bromberg?’
‘Mmm? No, not that I can recall. But then again, he probably wouldn’t. I’m not sure Frank ever gave up on the idea that I might leave Hector and join him.’
‘But my aunt said you thought he might be seeing someone else.’
‘I said I assumed he was. I’d be surprised if he isn’t; I don’t see him staying celibate for too long. He’s a horny guy.’
‘Have you seen him since he left Davos?’ I asked.
‘Once,’ Susannah admitted. ‘Last September. I had to go to Paris, on a computer course. I told Frank about it and he met me there.’
‘Did he say much about his project?’
‘It wasn’t at the top of our agenda, Mrs Blackstone. He mentioned it, though. He said that everything was going well and the civic authorities were eating out of their hands.’ She hesitated. ‘You’re really worried about him, aren’t you?’
‘His mother is,’ I confessed. ‘I’m worried for her. I don’t know my cousin very well, but I do know that he has an eye for trouble.’
Seven
I left all my contact details with Susannah. . after she’d checked her records for the spelling of ‘Macela’. She promised to get in touch with me the moment she heard from Frank. . or of him, for that matter. . just as I promised I would keep her informed.
I turned back to my computer. The Hotel Casino d’Amuseo website was still on screen: apart from the description of the project, its menu was short and sweet. There were only four items, the normal ‘About Us’, ‘Our People’ and ‘Contact Us’, plus another ‘Investment Opportunities’. I hit the first, and waited as the page loaded.
The Hotel Casino d’Amuseo [I read silently] will be the new heartbeat of Andalusian culture, offering the classic mix of twenty-four-hour gambling and high-quality year-round entertainment. Our highlights include
• A state-of-the-art American no-limit gaming hall, featuring roulette, blackjack, craps and slots.
• Two theatres featuring spectacular shows and concert appearances by global entertainment stars.
• A championship golf complex designed by Ryder Cup legend Syd Hoylake.
• An associated ski-lodge in the Sierra Nevada with a private transport link for our winter guests.
• A five-star, two-thousand-bedroom hotel with a hundred opulent suites, and restaurant options to suit all tastes.
Your pleasure is our only concern.
‘I’ll bet it is,’ I murmured, as I clicked on ‘Our People’, ‘but there’s more to it than that.’
We are an international team of professionals in the leisure industry, with almost a century of combined experience. Our principals are
• Alastair Rowland, chairman of the board. An internationally renowned hotel impresario, who has led successful ventures in Italy, France and the US.
• George Macela, chief executive officer, with experience of similar ventures in Reno and Florida.
• Lidia Bromberg, director and sales manager.
Doesn’t tell you much about the last two, I thought. Come to think of it, it doesn’t tell you much about any of them.
I switched from the website to a search engine, and keyed in each name in turn. How many hits did I have? None. Not one of these leading professionals in the leisure industry had left a single footprint on the Internet. On the trail of George Macela, I visited sites in Reno and in Florida, where the Seminole Indian tribe have casino interests. The name drew no results on either of them. Then I realised something else: the searches didn’t even lead me back to my starting point. The ‘new heartbeat of Andalusian culture’ had yet to be detected by the worldwide web.
I returned to the d’Amuseo site and clicked on ‘Contact Us’. I found no more than the details on the slip that Adrienne had given me: no street address, only the post-office box and telephone numbers. Nothing, except. .
The phone was a land-line and so it had to be sitting on a desk somewhere. I went back in my mind to the days when Oz and I were in the investigations business, when we were at our happiest and when our lives were at their least complicated, and I recalled finding out then that while reverse telephone directories did exist, they were restricted, and that their use was even illegal in some countries. . unless you were a cop.
Once upon a time I knew a policeman whose territory took in St Martí d’Empúries. His name was Ramón Fortunato, and I use the past tense deliberately. Like too many men in my past, he wasn’t altogether nice, but he did have a sergeant, Alex Guinart, whom I’d met on occasion and whom I do like and trust. He’s a sub-inspector now, and since I’ve been back in town, our paths have crossed: we started by having a beer or two together. . when he was off duty, since the restaurants don’t like people in uniform sitting at their tables. . and soon I grew close to him, and his new family, his wife Gloria and their baby, Marte. I can turn to Alex for advice when I need it, and I did.
I called him on his mobile: from the background noise I guessed that he was in the small Mossos d’Esquadra station in L’Escala. ‘Primavera,’ he answered, having read my number as he took the call, ‘how goes it?’ He and I converse in Catalan. (I don’t use English unless I have to; for example, with another Brit. We move to Spain in our thousands, but we’re so damn clannish that most of us don’t bother to learn the languages.)
‘I’m fine, thanks, Alex,’ I replied. ‘Can you do me a favour? I’ve got a phone number, and I need to tie an address to it. It’s a business in Sevilla that my cousin’s involved with, but I only have a poste restante address. No problem if you can’t do it.’
‘For you I can do it. You got me your sister’s signed photograph: you’re my heroine.’ That’s true. Alex is a movie fan: he keeps the photo in his office, and makes damn sure that all his colleagues know of my family connection, even if Dawn’s career has been on hold since she and Miles had their second kid, Eilidh, a wee sister for Bruce. It does no harm to have every cop in town keeping a special eye on my son.
It didn’t take him long. ‘The address is Calle Alvarez Quintero forty-seven. I checked the local property register. But it’s not a business, it’s a residence, right in the city centre, near the town hall. It’s listed as belonging to a lady named Benitez.’
Maybe that disclosure should have taken me by surprise, but it didn’t: I was beginning to catch a faint scent of fish. ‘Thanks, Alex. Give me a call next time you’re heading this way and I’ll buy you lunch. . but not for a few days. I’m off to Sevilla.’
I was frowning as I ended the call. A multi-million-euro rural complex operating from a city-centre house? That didn’t sit right with me. I decided to dig a little deeper, and to set up a reason for my visit.
I can hear you asking something. Since I have a friend in the police, why didn’t I report Frank as a missing person and leave it to them? Good question. Right now, I wish I had, but then I didn’t because, given Frank’s record, I was concerned that criminality lay behind his disappearance, and I reckoned that my aunt had suffered enough public embarrassment at his hapless hands.
Instead, I went to the final section of the d’Amuseo website, ‘Investment Opportunities’, and clicked on it. I was greeted by a short, encouraging statement.
While the bulk of the equity in Hotel Casino d’Amuseo will be held by leading financial institutions, a number of shares in the holding company have been reserved for private investors. In addition to unrivalled growth potential, these carry with them the benefits of discounted rates in the hotel and ski-lodge and membership of the golf club. For further information, contact Lidia Bromberg, director and sales manager.