Murder Majorcan Style, page 3
‘You appear to be contradicting yourself. If he was so presentable, why did people – the English – have reason to criticize him?’
‘I should prefer not to pursue the matter.’
‘I fear your preference matters zilch.’
‘The señor enjoyed the company of many ladies.’
‘Why the hesitation in telling me that? What’s the worth of money if you don’t enjoy its products?’
‘I think one should not speak ill of the dead.’
‘Often there’s not much else to say about them. Throttle your conscience and tell me about these women.’
‘Until recently, he frequently brought a lady back who spent the night, or several nights, here.’
‘“Until recently.” What slowed him down?’
‘I can only surmise.’
‘Do so.’
‘Señorita Janet was here many times and he seemed to become closely attached to her and her to him.’
‘As one would expect.’
Roldan ignored the comment. ‘Then something happened to upset the relationship.’
‘What?’
‘I think . . .’ Roldan stopped.
‘Getting information out of you is like trying to squeeze juice out of a last year’s orange.’
‘It’s not easy to break one’s sense of loyalty.’
‘Think of me as being in the position of a priest, ready to absolve your conscience. He got fed up with her?’
‘It was the other way round. She left here to go to England for a few days and when she returned there was a sharp disagreement.’
‘Your way of saying they had a hell of a row? What was that over?’
‘They spoke so loudly, I could not help overhearing them.’
‘Tell me what you inadvertently heard.’
‘She accused him of entertaining another woman whilst she was away.’
‘Had he?’
‘It wasn’t really his fault.’
‘Never is the man’s.’
‘A very attractive woman whom he’d known before arrived and said she wanted to see the señor. I didn’t know what to do. I mean, we all liked Janet. But he came out of a room, saw her, and that was that.
‘She left the next morning, shortly before Señorita Janet was due back. And when Señorita Janet was here, she discovered what had been happening.’
‘How?’
‘The señor had persuaded the other señorita to stay longer than she should have done and so she had to leave in a real hurry in a taxi. Unfortunately, in the rush she left evidence of having been there.’
‘Señorita Janet left him for good?’
‘Yes.’
‘And he returned to variety?’
‘He has not entertained a young lady since she left.’
That suggested he was genuinely fond of her, but could he have been when he had someone else in his bed while she was away? Of course, men saw things in a very much more sensible light than did women. ‘After she left him, what sort of a mood was he in?’
‘Unhappy.’
‘Having learned a bird in hand is worth several in the bush. What was her surname?’
‘We never learned it.’
‘Was she married?’
‘She wore no marriage ring.’
‘Have you or the others found any kind of suicide note in the house?’
‘If any of us had, Inspector, we would have said so immediately.’
‘Is there anything more you can tell me about what went on that night which might be relevant?’
‘Can’t think of anything. That is unless . . . But the car can’t have been of any importance.’
‘What car?’
‘It drove out soon after the brother and sister left.’
‘You didn’t hear it come in?’
‘I’d been at the back of the house with the wife and daughter and you don’t hear anything there.’
‘No one had rung or knocked?’
‘I never heard the bell ring, but recently it has occasionally malfunctioned. I reckoned the driver got no response and thought there was no one here.’
‘How did you come to see him leave?’
‘I’d gone into the breakfast room to check that it was all in order and saw it through the window.’
‘Could you see the driver?’
‘Only the back of his head.’
‘Don’t suppose you noticed the registration number?’
‘Didn’t think there was any reason to do that.’
‘What make and colour was the car?’
‘A black hatchback and likely a Citröen.’
‘Was there anything unusual about it?’
‘Only one of those dangling things inside the back window; daft in a saloon, dafter in a hatchback.’
‘Is there a study here?’
‘There is a library, which is where the señor often worked.’
‘Have you been in there this morning?’
‘No, but probably Susanna gave it a dust.’
‘I’d like to see it.’
The stone staircase, with wooden banisters, was steep. The landing stretched in either direction and Roldan turned right, went into a square room which looked out at the mountains. There was a large, filled bookcase, a desk, clearly not of local manufacture, on which was a computer, keyboard, VDU and printer; two leather seated chairs; three filing cabinets, a large, free-standing safe, and on the walls, three framed prints of English hunting scenes and an oil painting of confused colour and no form.
‘That’s all the help I need for the moment,’ Alvarez said.
Roldan left.
There was no suicide note amongst the loose papers on the desk or in any of the drawers. He searched under the desk to check whether the safe keys were concealed there, found nothing. If the staff had no idea where the keys were kept – as was to be expected – a locksmith would have to be called.
The morning was well advanced, so it was more sensible to return home, have lunch, a short siesta, and then resume work.
FOUR
The Pollo al ajillo was good, but with thoughts of Angulas en cazuelita . . .
‘What is the matter?’ Dolores asked.
‘Nothing,’ Alvarez answered.
‘You have not asked if there is any more.’
‘He’s suddenly discovered table manners,’ Jaime said.
Juan giggled. ‘He eats with his mouth open.’
‘It is not good manners to comment on bad manners,’ she observed sharply.
‘So there!’ Isabel said.
‘You eat like a camel,’ Juan told his sister.
‘If you two have anything more to say, you’ll do so in your bedrooms,’ Dolores threatened.
Jaime said: ‘If they are in their own bedrooms, they won’t be able to say anything to each other.’
‘There are times when a wife has to wonder if her husband is trying to be unhelpful or incapable of understanding he is not.’
‘You did say . . .’
She interrupted him. ‘Enrique, I had coffee in the old square this morning.’
He could not decide why she told him this.
‘With Ana.’
He understood.
‘Which Ana?’ Juan asked.
‘Ana Loup, a friend of Uncle Enrique’s.’
‘Is she one of his pretty ladies?’
‘A carefully forgotten companion,’ Jaime suggested.
‘There are many advantages to having a husband who works away from home,’ Dolores remarked. She collected up the plates, told Isabel and Juan to bring them and the dishes into the kitchen, left the table.
‘The children have gone off to have an ice cream,’ she said, as she returned with several apples and three clean plates. ‘Ana again asked how you were, Enrique.’
‘She thought I might have fallen down a well?’
‘You regard good manners with the same contempt as my husband?’
‘If I don’t remember her, I can’t think why she keeps asking how I am.’
‘She has a forgiving nature and hopes you are in good health. I do not expect you to understand.’
There was a brief silence, which she broke. ‘She spoke frankly about her unhappy marriage.’
‘Was that good manners?’ Alvarez asked.
‘Being a man, you talk very stupidly. She had been very unhappy, as one would expect, having been treated so cruelly when younger, as you have reason to know. Her friends were married and she was not getting younger, so when she met Emilio and he was very kind, she was pleased when he proposed.’ She began to peel an apple. ‘Would that women could learn in time that the man who proposes is not the man she marries.
‘It is our misfortune to be blinded by deceitful emotion. Emilio began to drink heavily and all the work on the farm had to be done by the two farmhands. It was sad for her to see him slumped in a chair when he should be out in the fields . . . Aiyee! – has there ever been a man who considers someone else before himself?’ She ate.
‘This woman . . . Ana,’ Alvarez hastily corrected himself, ‘comes from farming stock?’
‘Her parents soon died, so she had to learn how to run the estate. Emilio had said he would do that better than it had ever been run before. What he meant was, he would drink more than anyone had before. Only a woman could possess the courage and determination she possesses. Since Emilio died, she has been able to buy many more hectares of land on which to run more sheep and to grow their feed, she has planted many algarroba trees to meet the demand for their beans, she has made the farm as profitable as any on the island.’
‘It must be a pretty big place,’ Alvarez observed, interested, as always, in farming. ‘Whereabouts is it?’
‘She did not say.’
‘Did she mention any nearby village?’
‘If so, I have forgotten. You can ask her when you meet her.’
‘Since that’s very unlikely . . .’
‘She is coming here for a meal.’
‘Why?’
‘I asked her.’
‘When?’
‘As soon as it is convenient to both of us. Considering your previous behaviour, I did not consider it necessary to consider you.’
There were times, Alvarez acknowledged, when a man was neither master of his own fate nor captain of his soul.
He sat behind the desk in the library at Ca’n Mortex, but his mind was far from his work. Having inherited an estate, Ana had not been from poor farming stock, which eliminated many females he could remember. Most of her friends had been married, so she was no chicken. He could not capture even a possible, if unlikely, memory of her.
The unknown was always to be avoided. When he was told the hour of her visit, he would arrange for a cabo to phone home at the appropriate time and express his apologies and say the superior chief had demanded he remain at work.
The problem considered and solved, he opened the folder in front of himself marked ‘Local banks’. Chronologically arranged statements showed four thousand euros in the accounts and a monthly input of three thousand euros.
When that wealthy, a man could farm for pleasure, not profit. An unseasonable downpour might wash away all the sprouting corn, but this would not create the spectre of ruin; worn-out orange and lemon trees could be replaced; centuries-old olive trees with gnarled and twisted trunks could be tended with far more care than was warranted by the worth of their crop; varieties of seeds could be planted which favoured flavour, not maximum quantity – tomatoes, peppers, onions, potatoes, carrots, parsnips, beetroot, lettuces, melons, strawberries which tasted as they once had.
The phone rang, then stopped. It brought daydreams to an end, but did provide the brief pleasure of knowing the call could not concern him.
There was a knock on the door, Roldan stepped into the room. ‘It is for you, Inspector.’
‘Who is it?’
‘I thought it best not to ask.’
He turned to leave.
‘I’d like another word as soon as the call is over.’
‘If you will use the buzzer on the desk, I will be along as quickly as possible.’
As Roldan left, Alvarez lifted the receiver.
‘Taken so long to get hold of you, I reckon you had to be on the beach,’ José said. ‘Doctor Antignac will start the autopsy in an hour.’
After a brief inconsequential conversation, he replaced the receiver, pressed the buzzer.
Roldan entered.
‘Grab a seat.’
He moved one of the chairs and set it in front of the desk.
‘What was your first contact with Señor Sterne on the day he died?’
‘He rang to say he would have breakfast at half past the hour.’
‘Did he sound excited, worried, cheerful; did he say anything to suggest something was wrong?’
‘He sounded as he always did, Inspector. Of course, he said no more than what he wanted to eat so it was very difficult to judge. When I was first employed, he told me he liked silence until after breakfast.’
‘Did he eat in his bedroom?’
‘He came downstairs. He did not eat breakfast in his room when he was on his own.’
‘What did he do when he’d finished the meal?’
‘Returned upstairs to bath and dress. He preferred to do things that way round.’
‘What time would this have been?’
‘I can only guess. Around eight thirty.’
‘That early?’
‘When on his own, the señor did not stay long in bed.’
An example of life’s perversity. Because he could have rested for as long as he liked, he had not. ‘What did he do after the meal?’
‘Watched the news from England on television.’
‘Where were his nephew and niece?’
‘They had breakfast whilst he was watching.’
‘And when they’d finished?’
‘They drove off in the señor’s small car.’
‘How long were they away?’
‘They returned later in the morning and were here for a short while.’
‘Give me some times again.’
‘Perhaps it was not long after nine when they left, just before midday when they returned for roughly a quarter of an hour.’
‘This was before you found the señor.’
‘That is correct.’
‘They seem to be in and out of the house a lot.’
‘The señor once told them . . .’
‘Well?’
‘They seemed to think they were staying in a hotel.’
‘He was fed up with having them here?’
‘It’s possible. Once or twice, I did hear one or other of them arguing quite strongly with the señor.’
‘Did you gather the reason for their doing so?’
‘No.’
‘How would you describe the relationship between him and them?’
‘It had its ups and downs.’
‘He would or wouldn’t be sorry when they left?’
‘Probably not.’
One seldom was sorry when guests left. ‘That’s it then. No doubt I’ll need to speak to you again.’
Doctor Antignac, waiting impatiently in the ante-room, wore a surgical coat, a plastic cap on his head, a face mask which hung loose about his neck. His greeting was sharp. ‘At long last!’ He brought the mask up over his mouth, picked up a pair of surgical gloves from the table, strode briskly into the post-mortem room. Alvarez followed, far from briskly.
Because he tried to disassociate his mind from what was happening, did not look in the direction of the surgical table; he noted every sound and reluctantly deduced what it signified.
Antignac called out: ‘Come over here, Inspector.’
He crossed the floor.
‘I can find no cause of death,’ Antignac said.
‘But . . .’
‘The damage to the head was of no significance. He did not suffer a heart attack. For a man of his age, his physical condition was good.’
‘But something went wrong.’
‘You imagine life cannot end as rapidly as it starts and as with little preparation? I conclude death was the result of vagal reflex because, despite a very thorough examination, no other possible cause of death has been revealed.’
‘The lack proves what happened?’
‘In the circumstances, “prove” is an incorrect word. One can seldom prove a negative. You understand the causes of vagal reflex?’
‘I’m afraid not.’
‘They are varied. The cause can be for instance, the disturbance of the glottis by a sudden rush of cold water, the intubation of medical apparatus, penetration of organs, abortion, dilation. A sudden shock, when in a highly charged emotional state and acute fear can have the same effect.’
‘Would you think acute fear was the cause in this case?’
‘With no indication of an alternative reason, that is likely.’
Alvarez feared injections. Did he now have to face the fact that the next time he had to have one, he might not survive?
‘There is something to show you.’ Antignac spoke to the mortuary assistant. ‘Turn over, please.’
The body stripped of all clothing, lay on its back. As it was moved, Alvarez had the queasy impression something had fallen out.
‘Note the circular areas on the shoulders, buttocks and calves,’ Antignac said.
‘They are significant?’
‘Hypostasis – more commonly known as post-mortem lividity – sets in following death.
‘Blood ceases to circulate and falls to the lowest parts of the body, producing purplish areas. This does not happen when pressure, such as clothing or contact with a firm surface, prevents the capillaries from filling with blood. So what do those areas tell you?’
The unspoken answer was, nothing.
‘Immediately after his death, he was lying on his back.’
‘He was in his car.’
‘I am aware of where he was found. Nevertheless, he did not die in the car. The most likely place of death, considering the dust and dirt on the back of his shirt and trousers, could well be the floor of the garage.’
‘That’s impossible.’
‘Unless the laws of gravity have suddenly altered, it is fact.’
Alvarez cursed gravity.
‘Ana will be coming to supper,’ Dolores said, as she put a mug of hot chocolate on the kitchen table.
