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Cortez had just settled himself with a plate of Bolognese and a glass of wine when a knock sounded on the door of his apartment. Grumbling, he put the plate down and got to his feet.
“What d’you want, Diego?” he asked irritably when he saw who was at the door.
“Do you mind if I come in?” the man at the door, who could not have looked more out of place in the hallway of the old and disreputable apartment building Cortez lived in if he had been wearing a clown costume rather than the expensive and tailored suit he had on, asked. “We have some things to discuss, and I don’t think it’s a good idea for us to discuss them in your doorway.” Without waiting for an answer, Diego Vega brushed past Cortez and entered the apartment.
Unsurprised by the rudeness, Cortez closed the door and followed his visitor into the living room.
“So, what brings Roberto Abrantes’ number one man here?” he asked, returning to the chair he had left to answer the door, and the dinner he had been about to eat.
An envelope tossed into his lap answered his question.
Accepting that his dinner was almost certainly going to get cold, he picked up the envelope. It had a nice weight and thickness to it, and he tore it open to count the wad of Euros it contained. He was pleased with the figure he came up with — five thousand.
“A small thank you from Mr Abrantes for the information you provided this afternoon,” Vega told him.
“I thought he might prefer to hear about his brother’s murder before Francisco arrested him for it,” Cortez said. “I assume he had nothing to do with it.”
Vega gave Cortez a hard look. “Of course not. Mr Abrantes and his brother may have had their disagreements, but he would never have done anything to hurt his niece or her sons.”
“Okay. If Roberto didn’t kill his brother, who did?” Cortez asked. “Who would be stupid enough to kill Tomas? I wouldn’t have thought there was anyone in the city, other than Roberto, with the men or the balls to try something like that, let alone succeed.”
“We don’t know,” Vega admitted, “but we are making inquiries. Mr Abrantes would like you to keep close to the investigation and keep him up to date with any developments Detective Sergeant Pizarro uncovers.”
“That’s not likely to be easy,” Cortez said, sipping at his wine. “Since I’m not a detective anymore, I’m not likely to be let near the investigation, especially when it’s in Francisco’s hands.”
“There’s more where that came from, if you can manage it.” Vega indicated the envelope Cortez had put on the table next to his plate of Bolognese. “Mr Abrantes wants to know everything you can find out. You told me earlier there is a witness, a maid. Mr Abrantes wants you to find out what she saw and heard. And, if she is able to identify someone, he wants to know who that person is.”
Though he liked the idea of earning more money to put towards his private retirement fund, Cortez couldn’t help thinking that Roberto Abrantes was asking a lot of him.
“The only way I’m going to get close to the investigation is if I can bring something to it, and right now I have nothing. Unless you can give me something.”
**
“EVENING, IZZY,” CORTEZ greeted the woman who answered the door.
“Miguel.” Isobel Pizarro’s voice was cold. “What are you doing here?”
“I need to see Francisco,” Cortez told her. “I take it he’s home.”
“Can’t it wait until tomorrow, at the office? Surely whatever you need to see him about isn’t that important.”
“Who is it dear?” a voice called from the living room.
“I guess you had better come in,” Isobel said reluctantly.
“Thanks.” Once inside, Cortez made straight for the living room. Having been to the house before, in better times, he knew where he was going. “Evening, Francisco,” he said cheerfully the moment he saw his former partner.
Pizarro looked up from the television, distaste on his face. “What are you doing here?” he echoed his wife’s question.
“I’ve come to do you a favour,” Cortez told him, ignoring how he had been spoken to.
“I can manage without any favours from you,” Pizarro said. “So, whatever it is you are here for you can just leave again.”
“Oh, I think you want this favour, Francisco,” Cortez said, sitting without invitation. “I know how much you want promotion. You’re desperate to be the youngest DI in the city, but you know you can’t manage that without something big on your record. Izzy’s father can’t get you that promotion, no matter how much you’d like him to. This case, the massacre of Tomas Abrantes and his family, and everyone else at his estate, is your golden opportunity. If you solve this case, you’re a shoo-in for promotion to DI the next time there’s an opening.”
“I don’t need your help to solve this case,” Pizarro said confidently. “I already have a suspect. It’s just a matter of getting the evidence, and that shouldn’t take long.”
Even knowing Pizarro as he did, Cortez couldn’t believe he thought the case was going to be that easy.
“If you think Roberto Abrantes is responsible for the massacre of his brother’s family, then you’re even stupider than I thought.”
“I think you should listen to him, Francisco,” Isobel said from the doorway. “If he knows anything that might help you solve the case and get that promotion, it will be worth your time.”
Pizarro looked from his wife to his former partner and then back before nodding reluctantly. “Okay, what is it you know?” he asked, not the least bit happy with the thought of getting help from the man who had almost cost him his career. “Why do you think someone other than Roberto Abrantes is responsible for the massacre?”
“As you know, I have a number of sources, and they’ve proved useful over the years,” Cortez said. “Well, I put the word out to them earlier, letting them know I’m interested in anything they might know about what happened. One of them got back to me a while ago. It seems that Tomas Abrantes has made a number of trips around the country, and even to France, over the past year, looking to expand his operations. He must have upset someone because according to my source, Tomas increased the security at his estate — extra guards, upgraded security systems, that kind of thing.”
“I take it you don’t know who he upset.”
“No,” Cortez shook his head, “but my source is trying to find out. I know it’s not much, but it’s a starting place. The moment I find out more, I’ll let you know.”