Chapter 53

 

One month later, Burke testified in a half-full Figueres courtroom about what he’d witnessed just before José Antonio López killed himself. It took barely 45 minutes for him to cover what the Spaniard had discussed during his impromptu tour of Dali’s moustache exhibit and what had happened shortly after. Burke had no difficulty remembering since he recalled the scenes almost on a daily basis and frequently when he slept.

The lawyer asking the questions was gentle with Burke, almost like he didn’t want to cause any trauma for his witness. Burke was grateful. Since returning to Spain, he’d found his nerves were on edge.

When he was done, Burke returned to one of the benches, sitting beside Jules Tessier who’d testified just before Burke at the inquest. Next up was a uniformed police officer who had rushed to the scene right after López had pulled the trigger.

Burke looked around and thought half the people in the courtroom were journalists. López’s suicide was part of a news story that was still getting big play not just in Spain, but in France and other European countries as well, thanks to its links to the giant food-fraud scheme that had landed a famous chef in custody.

Burke had kept tabs on the story from Nice, learning how the investigation kept expanding with more arrests every week. Chef Andres faced several charges, the most serious being conspiracy to commit murder, a charge that could earn him years in prison if convicted. Dozens of others from Spain had also been charged, and news reports described most of them as “contract workers.” A few were identified, but Burke didn’t recognize the names.

A couple of the reports discussed the involvement of non-Spaniards and one story went as far as saying an American business executive had been interviewed in connection with the food-fraud ring and released by police. Burke wondered if it had been Tim Fritz, especially since Fritz had been so chummy with Chef Andres on several occasions.

He also wondered if the American was still in Spain. Or maybe he’d gone home as soon as his interview with the police was over, eager to put an ocean between him and the investigation. Burke still had the feeling that Fritz was involved in the food fraud even if the police hadn’t charged him. There was just something about him that rankled Burke.

As for Wendy Klassen, Burke hadn’t seen her name anywhere.

“Want to go for lunch?” Tessier whispered to Burke as the uniformed officer discussed what he’d encountered when he’d first seen López.

Burke nodded and they quietly left the courtroom without anyone seeming to care.

They were barely outside the courtroom when Burke spotted Inspector Camila Torres walking toward him and Tessier. Behind Torres was her usual shadow, Detective Sgt. Mariana Martἱn.

Burke stopped and waited to see what the two flics might be interested in. They stopped a pace from him and Tessier.

“Your testimony went well,” Torres said in Spanish.

Burke frowned. “I didn’t see you in there.”

Torres jerked a thumb behind her. “We were watching from a special room with closed circuit TV.”

Burke nodded. “Are either of you testifying?”

“You’re always curious, aren’t you, Seῇor Burke?” Torres said with a sly smile.

“You came to us, Inspector.”

“That’s true, we did.”

Torres looked at Tessier and apologized to him in French for leaving him out of the previous conversation.

“You didn’t answer my question, Inspector,” Burke interjected. “Are either you or Sgt. Martἱn testifying? Or have you testified?”

Torres shook her head. “We’re not. We just wanted to see what happened. You never know if it could prove interesting in our criminal cases involving Monsieur López.”

“And how is your investigation going? I’ve read a few stories, but it seems there’s a lot more information not making it into the media.”

“You’re perceptive as usual, Monsieur Burke. As for our investigation, it’s a joint venture involving different jurisdictions which makes it more complex.”

“Are you going to be making any more arrests?” Tessier asked. “And if you are, when?”

Burke looked at the younger man. Tessier had kept quiet around the police during previous meetings, but this was a different Tessier, a more confident, more assertive one.

And Burke could see Torres was equally surprised by the young man’s questions.

“I can’t answer you, Monsieur Tessier, but I will tell you there might be some surprises.”

Burke could see Torres wouldn’t go further, not trusting any members of the media to keep secrets. Her comment about ‘some surprises’ was about as far as she’d test her luck.

Then Burke saw another familiar face striding toward them.

Mateo Ochoa.

The Peῇíscola flic wasn’t in uniform but in a grey suit with a tieless white shirt. He looked completely comfortable in his new attire and Burke wondered why Ochoa was here. If he was on the list of witnesses at the inquest, Burke couldn’t figure what he could contribute.

Torres waved a hand at Ochoa. “Monsieur Burke, I’d like to introduce you to our new boss – Detective Chief Inspector Ochoa.”

Burke felt his mouth drop in response. The small-town officer was now a big deal in Girona? What had happened?

Ochoa stuck out his hand and shook with Burke first and then Tessier.

“To paraphrase the godfather in the movies, they made me an offer I couldn’t refuse,” he said. “Besides, my wife has relatives in Girona so it seemed like a good idea to accept the offer. And it’s not far from Peῇíscola and so we can travel there without much effort to visit family and friends.”

Burke remained speechless, trying to work out why Girona’s police brass had gone after Ochoa.

And then Burke remembered Ochoa’s background with the police in Madrid. Then there was Ochoa’s involvement in the food-fraud case and Burke recalled how the flic had several times contributed heavily to the investigation. When others had seemed uninterested, Ochoa had been eager to pursue the truth.

Burke glanced at Torres, figuring she wouldn’t be happy about the fact Ochoa had jumped over her on the promotions list. However, her face didn’t indicate anything but professional courtesy and respect.

“I can see you’re surprised by Chief Inspector Ochoa’s presence,” Torres said. She looked at her colleague. “Well, we’re lucky to have him. There was an opening and I recommended him. We couldn’t have done better.”

Burke saw she was sincere with her comments. He also noticed Ochoa seemed slightly uncomfortable with her praise.

“You look better than you did the last time I saw you, Monsieur Burke,” Ochoa said, scanning Burke from top to bottom.

“I just needed time to recover and to think about other things.”

“So, have you kept up on this whole food-fraud matter and what happened with Seῇor López?”

Burke shrugged. “Not on a daily basis, but I’ve spent some time following what’s been going on.”

“Anything in particular prove surprising or interesting? Any questions you want answers to?”

Burke could see Ochoa was interviewing him, not just making idle conversation. He paused to consider if he’d give a truthful response because there had been one question that had bothered him since he’d left Spain.

The silence went on for 10 seconds, and Burke could see the three flics were waiting for him to answer. When he glanced at Tessier, he noticed the same look of expectation on the young man’s face.

“Well, to be honest, a few things have bugged me, but there’s been one question that’s really stayed with me,” Burke said.

“Don’t keep us in suspense, Monsieur Burke,” Ochoa said.

“Why would Seῇor López, whose wife was brutally run down and killed while riding her bicycle, give so much time, effort and money to promote a huge bike race?”

Burke could see the four faces in front of him digesting his question. He decided he needed to add something.

“You see, if my partner Hélène was killed in a hit-and-run while riding her bike, I doubt I’d ever be able to look at a bike again and not feel the pain of her loss. Could I immerse myself in promoting a huge bike race if I’d lost Hélène? Only if I died and was sent to hell.”

“Monsieur Burke, let’s talk some more,” Ochoa said.