Blood Red (25 page)
‘That truth won’t help him. Plus, if I told him he might never speak to me again.’
Maybe you don’t know your brother as well as you believe
, I thought.
I reckon he’d give you absolution.
Thirty-nine, I thought.
I reckon he’d give you absolution.
I
kept the mobile switched on all the time we were out, even though the battery was getting low, but there was no call from Gerard. I was tempted to ring him, but it was pretty late by the time Santi and I made it home, so I decided against it, switched off and put it on charge overnight.
kept the mobile switched on all the time we were out, even though the battery was getting low, but there was no call from Gerard. I was tempted to ring him, but it was pretty late by the time Santi and I made it home, so I decided against it, switched off and put it on charge overnight.
I slept later next morning; Santi was up before me, and when I went upstairs, there were a couple of glasses of freshly squeezed orange juice on the table, alongside two plates, each with a monster slice of watermelon, and a bowl for the seeds. Tom and I both love watermelon, for the fun of eating it as much as for the freshness and the taste.
‘I have to shop,’ I told him, once we had finished it, and the toast that followed.
‘Sure,’ he replied. ‘I’ll take you down to the city.’
I shook my head. ‘No, Santi; I said I have to shop. Me, personally, for women’s things.’ I tugged my hair. ‘For example, I don’t want this reverting to blond. And I’ve got hardly any make-up; at my age I can’t go without it altogether.’ There was also the matter of a new Gillette Venus; I was beginning to look like a gooseberry, and getting itchy with it. ‘I saw enough yesterday to know where to go. I’ll be back by lunchtime; maybe we can do some of the other monuments this afternoon.’
He was fine with that, so I set out on my own, down to the Paseo then along towards the main shopping drag, behind a square called Plaza Bib-Ramblas, which seemed to be the local flower market. I found the stuff I needed without difficulty, including the same brand and tint of hair dye that I had used at Shirley’s. I bought two, in the optimistic hope that I wouldn’t need the second one, and could replace hers without her ever knowing.
I was shopping for sensible underwear in a department store, trying on a bra in a fitting room, in fact, when the mobile sounded in my bag. I snatched at it. ‘Gerard.’
‘Primavera.’
‘Surprise me; give me some good news.’
‘It’s raining, and the earth needs it. Other than that, I have nothing to offer. Alex has been as helpful as he can, but it’s not good. Your theory has proved to be correct. The police tests have shown that Senor Planas had relations with Senora Fumado just before he died.’ He sounded pained by the idea. ‘Their conclusion is as you said it would be. I told Alex that was ridiculous, but he said that it was where the evidence pointed and that he couldn’t ignore it. The public prosecutor is satisfied; he says they needn’t look any further.’
‘But they must. There has to be evidence that shows somebody else was there. They can’t just stop looking for it.’
‘They’re not going to look for it, Primavera. They’re sticking with what they’ve got. The prosecutor is going to ask a judge to issue a warrant for your arrest, tomorrow, Alex reckoned, at the latest.’ He sighed. ‘He’s guessing that we’re in touch. He said last night that if he was in your shoes, and had your resources, he’d adopt a new identity and disappear. I hate to say it, but he may be right; as you’ve told me, you’ve done it before.’
I was shaken. ‘Are you giving up on me, Gerard?’ I asked, tersely.
‘No!’ he protested. ‘I’m trying to keep you safe.’
I’d wounded him; instantly I was sorry. ‘I know,’ I sighed, ‘but I don’t think that your way’s working. I’m going to try something different, from here. You don’t need to know about it, though. Give me a couple of days; I should know by then whether it’s paid off.’
‘And if it doesn’t?’
‘Then I’m coming home.’
‘You can’t. If you’re convicted of double murder you’ll go to jail for thirty years.’
‘I didn’t do it; I won’t be convicted.’
‘That’s not what Gomez thinks; it’s not what Alex fears. You can’t come back, Primavera.’ He sounded desperate.
‘Then only one thing will keep me away. You bring Tom to me, and the three of us will disappear together. You’re right; I’ve done it before, and I have the means to do it again.’
‘Primavera . . .’
‘If it comes to it, that’s what I want. Will you do it?’
‘I’ll bring Tom to you. The rest . . .’
‘If you bring Tom, you’ll be walking away from your career. Gerard, I might not be Irena, but . . .’
I heard his intake of breath. ‘He told you.’
‘Yes. The whole story.’
‘And what do you think of me now? I’d have killed my own father, but for Santi arriving when he did.’
‘If the man had tried to rape me, I’d have killed him myself, no mercy, no second thoughts.’ I pulled myself up, sharply. ‘Which is probably not what you want to hear from a murder suspect, but it’s true nonetheless. I’m glad Santi stopped you, but for your sake, not for your father’s.’
‘Try your other way, Primavera,’ he sighed. ‘Try it and let’s hope it works. If not, then we’ll see.’
FortyI
’d been a lot more confident with Gerard than I really felt. It’s much more difficult to disappear into thin air than most people imagine. I’d been able to do it before more by luck than judgement; I was no expert. To make it work for three people would take money; I have plenty, but accessing it would be difficult.
’d been a lot more confident with Gerard than I really felt. It’s much more difficult to disappear into thin air than most people imagine. I’d been able to do it before more by luck than judgement; I was no expert. To make it work for three people would take money; I have plenty, but accessing it would be difficult.
I knew that I’d do it, or try to, if it became unavoidable, but before we got to that stage, there was Plan B.
During my time with Oz, I met a man. His name is Mark Kravitz and he runs a very discreet business that he describes as a security consultancy. That covers a variety of services; some are pretty secret, others involve high-level contacts in places of influence. He has worked for Oz on occasion, and in the recent past, when I had need of him, I’d been able to turn to him for help. My fingers were crossed that I could again.
I finished my shopping, then retraced my steps, until I found an internet shop that I’d noticed earlier. I’d been going to make the contact anyway, but my discussion with Gerard had concentrated my mind on it. I went into the shop, bought an hour’s time, and settled into the booth that was furthest away from the door. I’d planned to send Mark an email, but as soon as I switched on the terminal, I came up lucky. I saw that it was loaded with Skype, that clever internet tool that lets you eyeball friends and family around the world; that’s how Dawn and I keep in touch. (We’ve tried to get Dad into the way of it, but we’re wasting our time.)
I was pretty sure that Mark would be there as I slipped on the headset that was plugged into the computer. He has MS, and is having increasing motor difficulties, so he rarely leaves his home-office. I opened the software, keyed in his contact details and pressed the green button. It didn’t ring for long before he answered and his face appeared on the monitor screen. He was in his wheelchair, thinner than the last time we’d spoken, and his hair was a little greyer, but the old light still burned in his eyes.
‘Primavera, what a nice surprise,’ he exclaimed; then he frowned. ‘What have you done to your hair?’ he asked. ‘And where the hell are you?’
‘I’ve decided on a change of colour,’ I told him, ‘and I’m away from home.’ I looked around to check that there was nobody within listening range, for at least half the voices I’d heard that morning had been speaking English, most of it with an American accent. When I felt secure, I explained why. I told him everything, every last detail.
‘Mmm,’ he murmured, when I had finished. ‘You don’t get into small trouble, do you? I bet you’ve never tripped over a step and skinned your knee, or picked up half a dozen parking tickets in a fortnight. No, with you it’s always grand scale stuff, like that business last year with your cousin.’
I had to admit that there was something in what he said. I’ve survived an air crash where others did not, been duped by one of the cleverest con men ever to have worked a scam, but I’ve never picked up even one parking ticket, let alone half a dozen in a fortnight. And no, I don’t remember ever falling and skinning my knee, not even as a child.
‘You say the police are happy with the evidence?’ he continued.
‘Yes, and it points to me.’
‘But you didn’t do it, so they must have missed something.’
‘Not necessarily. It could be that whoever killed these people didn’t leave a trace.’
‘Everybody leaves a trace, Primavera; miscarriages of justice come about because investigators stop looking when they’ve found enough to satisfy them, and to fit a particular theory.’
‘Why would anyone want to frame me, Mark?’
‘From what you say I don’t think they did; not at the outset. I think they killed this Planas man, and kidnapped the woman. The police thinking has to be right in that respect; they didn’t expect her to be there. You seem to have been a convenient fall . . . person.’
‘You keep saying “they”. The police are prepared to believe that I did it all on my own.’
‘That’s another weakness in their case against you. It’s possible, but bloody difficult. The dead woman; was she weak?’
‘Anything but, from what I saw of her.’
‘Well, there you are. You can handle yourself, Primavera, but you’re not a giant. Probability says to me that you couldn’t have done all that by yourself. Put it this way; if I was contracted to do a job like that . . . not that I handle such work, of course,’ he added, hastily, ‘. . . I’d send three people, two to do the wet work, and one to get them there, keep a lookout and get them away again. I wouldn’t be sending a lone woman.’ I saw him frown. ‘No, there’s something about this that stinks.’
‘Tell me about it; I’m at the really smelly end.’
‘And who put you there?’ He frowned. ‘When did you become a suspect? I mean when did they even begin to consider you a possibility?’
‘I suppose it would be when they identified the murder weapon and found my DNA on it.’
‘Exactly. And when was the woman killed and planted in your cellar, or whatever it is?’
‘Friday morning.’
‘Exactly. After the link to you had been established.’
‘And after Dolores’s car had been found . . .’
‘. . . confirming that she hadn’t run off, but had been abducted, forcing the hand of her kidnappers, making them realise they had to get rid of her there and then.’
‘Right.’ I knew where he was going and I didn’t like it.
‘They killed her with your scarf and they chose your place to dump the body. Why would they do that?’
‘Because they knew by that time that I had handled the chair, and that the police were about to ask me why.’
Over a thousand miles away, by flying crow, he nodded. ‘That’s it. The police set you up, or helped.’
‘No,’ I protested. ‘One of the investigating officers . . . he’s just about my best friend. I can’t believe that.’
‘One of . . .’ Mark repeated. ‘But not the only.’
‘I know Hector Gomez too.’
‘How well?’
‘Not that well, but . . .’
‘Look, it needn’t have been either of them; leaks rarely come from the most obvious point.’
‘It doesn’t help me, though.’
‘It gives me somewhere to start.’ He gazed into his webcam, and through it, into my eyes. ‘Primavera, I want you to give me an hour. Go away, do something, then come back to where you are and get back online. With luck, I’ll have come up with something.’
‘What are you going to do?’
‘What many people do these days when they’re up against it. I’m going to phone a friend.’
Forty-oneI
still had plenty of cash left, but I had bought all my essentials and anyway, shopping for frills wasn’t really on my agenda, even if I did find myself looking longingly at an iPod Touch that looked just like Santi’s clever phone.
still had plenty of cash left, but I had bought all my essentials and anyway, shopping for frills wasn’t really on my agenda, even if I did find myself looking longingly at an iPod Touch that looked just like Santi’s clever phone.
Rather than wander for the rest of the hour I went into a place that I’d noticed earlier, a busy café called the Alhambra . . . there’s imagination for you. There’s a delicacy, a confection, in the south of Spain in particular, called churros. Imagine something that looks like a doughnut, only lighter, in strips rather than circles, and deep-fried. I’d never tried them before, and since I doubted whether they’d be on the menu at Barcelona women’s prison, I thought I’d better. I looked around and saw that most of the people were eating them dipped in hot chocolate, and so I went along with that. My waiter brought me a great pile of the things, so many that I suspected that he’d assumed I was waiting for someone to join me. It was heavy stuff, and may have accounted for the fact that many of the other customers were on the chubby side. I managed two, then had the hot chocolate replaced with a straight café con leche, more to my taste.
It took me the rest of the hour to munch my way through what I decided would be a once in a lifetime experience. I paid the bill, and went back to my internet shop. The booth I’d used earlier was occupied, but I found another that was almost as far away from the door, and with nobody on either side.
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