They had finished supper – a truly Spartan meal – Isabel and Juan had left the house to play with friends, Dolores was washing up in the kitchen, and Alvarez and Jaime were watching football on the television. It was not an interesting match. Jaime said in a low voice: ‘Tomas says there’s a green film on late.’
‘How late?’ Alvarez asked.
‘Midnight.’
‘Are you staying up for it?’
‘What d’you think she’d say if I did that?’
‘More than you’d want to hear.’
‘But we could tape it, if she didn’t know.’
‘How do we avoid that?’
‘I’ve been thinking. Just before we go up to bed, you say there’s an interesting documentary coming on.’
‘At midnight?’
‘All right, another football match from Russia.’
‘You think she’ll believe they play at three or four in the morning?’
‘Why’s she going to think that?’
‘Go east and the time’s earlier.’
‘Then go west.’
‘That’s what we’ll do if we’re not careful.’
‘I’ve never met anyone quibble like you do. You set the tape and then tomorrow, before you leave for work, you take it out of the machine and hide it.’
‘So I take all the risks? If you ask me, it’s better to forget the film. You know what women are – they have a sixth sense that tells ’em something’s up. What would life be if she caught us at it?’
‘Anything calls for a spot of courage and you can find a dozen reasons for not doing it.’ Jaime stood and stamped his way out of the room.
The phone began to ring. Dolores looked through the bead curtain. ‘Have you forgotten who’s answering the phone?’
He went through to the front room and lifted the receiver.
‘Is that the inspector?’
It was not a voice he knew. ‘Yes.’
‘Then suppose you tell me if you liked the card?’
It was astonishing that he had not initially realized the call might be from ‘them’. Tension flashed. ‘You’ve got to understand…’ he began hoarsely.
The line went dead.
His hand shook as he dialled Telefonica. He asked for an identification of the number just called, and the man at the other end said someone would phone back when that had been established.
Since the caller had been a different man – his accent suggested a similar background – there were at least two of them; two men whose objective was to scare him into having the inquiries called off and when that failed, as Salas had made clear it must, to kill him. History proved there was no such thing as perfect security. Even were he surrounded by bodyguards, they could still kill him if they were clever and patient …
He returned to the dining room, opened the sideboard, brought out a bottle of brandy and a glass, poured out a very large drink.
Dolores stepped through the bead curtain. She came to a halt, hands on hips, her expression haughty. ‘When God made Adam, He made a mistake.’
Because He had added imagination?
‘That I should have a cousin who brings shame to my house!’
He drank, not daring to pass her to get some ice, morosely certain she had overheard Jaime’s earlier suggestion that they should tape the green film. As if it mattered what he watched when he had so little life left! ‘Where’s the harm?’ he demanded.
Dolores was surprised, even nonplussed by his rough reply. She quickly recovered her poise. ‘Your depravity has reached such depths that you can ask?’
‘It’s only a bit of fun.’
‘Sweet Mary, but I have been nurturing a viper in my home! A viper who can believe it is merely a bit of fun to debauch sweet youth!’
‘You’re talking nonsense.’
She held her head a fraction higher and her dark-brown eyes flashed icy fire. ‘Nonsense? It is nonsense that time and again I have suffered the pain of watching you make such a sad fool of yourself that my whole family has been shamed?’
It was finally clear that they were talking at cross purposes. ‘Are you going on like this because you think I’ve been having it off with a tourist?’
‘Because you have been failing to do so. If you had the wits to look in a mirror, you would know that that is inevitable.’
‘So that’s what you were getting at this morning … The phone calls have not been from a woman.’
‘You think I can believe that? When after you have spoken I see a man who has crumpled?’
‘What you’ve been seeing is a man who’s scared to hell.’
‘Scared?’
When he saw her emotion change instantly from righteous anger to sharp concern, he vainly wished the words unsaid. ‘Forget what I said.’
‘Why are you scared?’
‘Just forget it.’
‘Can I do the impossible? Can I see one of my family in trouble and pass by? Enrique, you have to tell me. Why are you scared?’
‘It’s just some men.’
‘Who are they?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘Then how can they frighten you?’
‘Because…’
‘Because what?’
‘It doesn’t matter.’
‘You are family. When you hurt, I hurt. And you tell me it does not matter? Enrique, you break my heart.’
He finally explained what had happened.
She sat. ‘I need a drink.’
He poured her one and replenished his own glass.
‘The superior chief must stop the inquiries so that you are safe,’ she said.
‘He won’t. He believes justice is more important than the individual.’
‘If you are hurt, how can there be justice?’
‘There’s the difference between theory and practice … I’ve decided there’s only one thing to be done.’
‘What’s that?’
‘I must move from here.’
‘As if I had thrown you out? Never!’
‘I cannot put you all at risk.’
‘How could that be?’
‘When they decide to kill me, they won’t care if anyone else is hurt at the same time. They might decide to bomb this house.’
‘Mother of God!’ She drank deeply.
‘If they know I’m no longer living here, then the four of you will be safe.’
‘But you will be living alone, with no loving family to watch over you.’
‘It’ll be a small price to pay.’
‘You must make the superior chief guard you.’
‘He’s promised I will be when he judges the time is right.’
‘When he thinks it is right? What if these men choose another time?’
‘I’m sure he’ll work things out.’
‘For you, has he ever done so in the past? How many men will he send to guard you?’
‘A couple, maybe.’
‘Can two be enough to make certain you’re safe?’
‘A dozen couldn’t guarantee that.’
‘Then he must do more.’
‘There’s nothing he can do since we’ve no idea who’s making the threats.’
‘Identify them.’
‘As soon look for a grain of barley in a sackful of wheat. I’ve spoken to two different men; there may be more, but I doubt that, because too many would risk becoming conspicuous. How do you identify two out of hundreds of thousands of tourists from all corners of the globe when all that we know about them is that they may be from South America and if so, probably from Bolivia?’
‘There has to be a way.’
The phone rang. When he saw Dolores’s expression, he said hastily: ‘That will be Telefonica telling me if they managed to trace the call.’ He went through to the front room.
A woman told him: ‘It was made from a public call-box in Carrer Alcina, Cala Beston.’
He returned to the dining room.
‘Well?’ Dolores said, her voice high.
‘The call was from Cala Beston.’
‘Sweet Mary, they are here; on the island!’
‘They had to be, to have left the card in my car.’
‘You must tell the superior chief.’
‘In a minute.’ He lifted his glass and drained it.
‘Why do you just sit there? Tell him to send every man in the Cuerpo, every guardia, every member of the policia local, to find these murderers in Cala Beston.’
‘Impossible.’
‘Why?’
‘He doesn’t have the authority over other forces.’
‘You worry about authority when they are out there, waiting to kill you?’
‘I don’t, but he will.’
‘Then tell him he must not! Are you going to go on sitting there, doing nothing, like a rabbit caught in the headlights of a car?’
‘You don’t know what the situation is.’
‘I understand that there are two men in Cala Beston who have to be found…’
‘Since the call was made from there, they are hiding out somewhere else.’
‘How can you be so certain?’
‘That’s the way they work.’
‘But…’
‘Leave it. We know what we’re doing, you don’t.’
She looked pityingly at him.