Deadly Business (6 page)

Alex’s clout had left a vivid red mark on Culshaw’s cheek.

‘Okay,’ the intendant snapped, ‘we get down to business.’ He tapped the recorder on the table. ‘Everything you said this morning, your entire conversation with Senora Blackstone, was transmitted to us through her phone, which was active all the time. It was recorded and we have it here, all of it, including your admission to your attempt at extortion. We’re not here to negotiate, or even to interrogate. The evidence of our ears and of this tape shows that you have committed a serious crime. Under Spanish law that will earn you a minimum of three years in prison, but given the amount of money involved here, it is likely to be much more. What will happen now? Primavera will make a formal complaint against you and you will be held in jail while I report to the public prosecutor. From then on it’ll be in her hands, but I warn you, she’s a very tough lady.’ He looked round at me. ‘Primavera, will you write the
denuncio
, in Catalan of course, or would you prefer to dictate it?’

‘I’m literate enough to write it myself, Intendant,’ I replied. ‘If you give me a form, I’ll complete it.’ I stepped towards the table.

‘That’s good,’ he said. ‘The spelling doesn’t have to be one hundred per cent; the meaning has to be clear, that’s all. Marc, would you fetch a
denuncio
paper, please.’

Finally, as the sergeant left the room, Culshaw seemed to realise that he wasn’t involved in any sort of a game, that the cops were not bluffing and that I wasn’t either. He looked up at me. ‘Primavera, can we talk about this?’

‘We’re done talking, chum,’ I told him.

‘I was joking, only joking,’ he protested, but so weakly that he didn’t even fool himself, for his voice faded as he spoke.

‘Well, we ain’t.’

‘Please.’ He was begging, pure and simple.

As I looked at him, the anger that I’d been nurturing since I’d read the first few pages of his manuscript began to subside. I paused and began to think rationally. Duncan’s entire pitch had been based on the premise that there are things in my past and in Oz’s that might not stand up to detailed examination and that I would not want exposed to the full glare of publicity. He’d been right about that; he’d been a complete bloody idiot in the way he’d tried to exploit it, that’s all.

If I went ahead with a complaint, and it entered the Spanish judicial system, I wouldn’t be able to claw it back. Their courts might work very slowly, but eventually they do work. If Duncan got himself a decent lawyer and sought to defend himself in a trial, then everything would come out. More than that, even if he was locked up in Spain pending trial, bail denied, he’d still be able to do a book deal through his agent. Indeed the thing might become even more valuable.

Shit, the guy was on a winner either way, but he hadn’t realised it. I frowned at him, severely, but I asked Alex, ‘Would you leave us alone for a couple of minutes?’

He agreed; he was reluctant, but he agreed.

‘Okay,’ I said, when we were alone, ‘this is what it will take. You give me a document, which Alex will witness, transferring copyright ownership of your book to me. You do that now. Then you give me the device that holds the original … a laptop? …’ he nodded, ‘so that I can erase the entire hard disk. Then you disappear; you get out of Susie’s life and stay out. It’s that or you spend the next ten years being rogered up the arse by the cellmate of your choice, and I can promise you he won’t be using apple-flavoured condoms. Deal?’

He considered it for all of two seconds, and croaked, ‘Deal.’

‘One other thing,’ I added. ‘Should you stash away a copy and try to use it in the future, or should you even stick your head above the parapet, I can still make the complaint and Alex will still have that recording. That would be if you were lucky. The alternative would be that I would send Conrad Kent after you, with a free hand to do whatever he deems necessary. That’s where your thinking was flawed, Duncan. You should have realised that when you threaten my wellbeing, you threaten my son. If anybody does that, there are no limits to what I would do to protect him. You got that much right about Phyllis, and me.’

We were out of there in fifteen minutes, and he was out of town within an hour, taking with him a laptop with a completely blank hard disk.

‘Duncan?’ I repeated. ‘What makes you think she’s gone anywhere with Duncan? She doesn’t see him any more, Jonathan.’

‘He went away on business, Mummy said. But I think he’s come back.’

‘What makes you think that, son?’

‘I saw him in Monaco, before Mummy went away; one day Conrad was driving Janet and me back from school and I saw him sitting in Casino Square. Janet didn’t see him, though, and I haven’t said anything to Conrad. She’d be upset if he came back.’

‘Are you sure it was him? When you’re travelling in a car and you only get a glimpse of somebody, it’s easy to make a mistake.’

His mouth set in a hard line. ‘It was him,’ he muttered. ‘Why don’t you believe me, Auntie Primavera?’ There were tears in his eyes.

I ruffled his hair, and took his hand. ‘I do believe you, wee man,’ I said, gently. ‘If you’re certain, that’s good enough for me. Was he with anyone?’

‘No, but there had been somebody else at his table, because there were two glasses on it.’

‘Maybe they were both his?’

‘No. One was a beer and the other was a long pink drink, with straws and things in it. And there was a bag on the table, a lady’s bag not a man’s bag, and it was red, like one that Mummy’s got. And when we got home, she wasn’t there, and she’d said she would be. Auntie Primavera, I don’t like Duncan. He’s not a nice man. When Mummy and Conrad aren’t there he’s rude to us, and shouty. And he hit Tom once.’

‘He did what!’ I exclaimed. If I’d known that when he was in Alex’s custody …

‘When?’

‘One day last summer when Tom was with us. He and Janet were playing scrabble, in Catalan … Tom was teaching her … and Duncan told Janet to get him a beer. He didn’t say please or anything; he’d had lots of beers before that. Tom said that he was nearer the fridge so couldn’t he get his own, and Duncan pulled him to his feet, and said that just for that he could get it. And he swore, he used that rude word that Conrad got angry at me for using. Tom said no and Duncan hit him, on the side of the head, quite hard.’

‘Did anybody see this?’ I murmured.

‘Only Janet and me. Janet shouted at Duncan, but he told her to shut up or she’d get the same.’

‘Didn’t either of you tell your mother, or Conrad?’ I asked him.

‘No, because Tom said we shouldn’t.’

‘He did?’
Poor kid
, I thought,
he must have felt shamed
. He’d never been hit in his life before. Oh, what I would do to Duncan Culshaw if our paths ever crossed again.

‘Yes, because …’ He looked up at me and a small precious smile lit up his face. ‘After he’d hit him, Duncan asked Tom if he’d get him his beer now. Tom said, “No chance,” and Duncan tried to hit him again, but Tom made him miss and kicked him in the stomach.’

‘In the stomach,’ I repeated.

Jonathan pointed to his groin. ‘Yes, there; he kicked him like Jean Claude van Damme does. Duncan fell down, making funny noises. It was a long time before he could get up again. I was scared. I thought that when he got up he would really hurt Tom. I was going to go for Conrad, but Tom wouldn’t let me. He said he had used wing chun, and his teacher had told him he should never use it against anyone who isn’t trained in it himself.’

I smiled; that’s my boy. An adult attacked him, he decked him and he felt guilty about it. ‘What happened when Duncan did get up?’

‘Nothing. Duncan didn’t go near him again. Janet got him a beer, and he sat down and drank it.’

‘Did neither of you tell your mum what had happened?’

‘No. Tom wouldn’t let us. He said Duncan wouldn’t bother any of us again, and he didn’t. I was glad when he went away, Auntie Primavera; I didn’t want him to come back. I don’t want Mummy to see him.’ His eyes filled with tears again, and finally, they flowed. ‘I just want my daddy back,’ he cried.

I hugged him to me. ‘I know, wee man,’ I whispered, ‘I know. You’re far too young to have learned how tough the world can be.’

I thought of Susie as I spoke, Susie and her precarious future. I hoped that wee Jonathan had been wrong about what he said he’d seen in Casino Square, but he’s a very bright wee chap and not given to flights of imagination or extravagant statements.

‘Auntie Primavera,’ he murmured, as he wiped his eyes with the back of his hand, ‘am I really grounded till Monday?’

‘I can’t overrule Conrad,’ I told him. ‘He’s your guardian while you’re here. But I can tell him what’s worrying you, and if you tell him that you’re very sorry for using that word and promise not to use it again, you might find that he gives you a suspended sentence.’

‘What’s that?’ His eyes widened. ‘You mean he’ll hang me?’

I couldn’t stop myself from laughing. ‘No, love, I mean he might let you off. Now, go on with you, get yourself out of that beach stuff and into clean clothes before they all get back.’

As I spoke, there was a loud bang or small explosion, from somewhere not too far away. Wee Jonathan jumped. ‘What was that?’ he gasped.

‘That was the start of the San Juan celebrations. Fireworks don’t scare you, do they?’

‘No!’ He said the word as if I’d insulted him.

‘Good, in that case we can all watch them from my bedroom terrace. Go on, now, get yourself ready.’

I shooed him upstairs then went along to the sitting room. I checked the time and worked out that it would be around midday in Arizona, then picked up the landline phone and punched in Susie’s mobile number.

‘Primavera,’ she answered … number recognition is a very useful tool, ‘how are you? Is everything okay? Are the kids okay?’

‘The kids are fine, Susie; the two older ones and I are all going to a reggae concert tonight.’ As I spoke, another firework exploded.

‘What was that?’ Susie asked, sounding as anxious as had her son. She sounded tired, too, wearier than I’d ever heard her; I knew that the treatment had been tough, but I’d hoped against hope that she was on an upward curve.

‘Relax,’ I laughed, ‘it’s a fiesta tonight. Big celebration in Spain. There’s music on the beach from around midnight; I’m taking the two older ones.’

‘Sounds like fun. How’s my daughter?’ I guessed what was behind the question. Janet’s periods had started in the month before Susie went for her third treatment.

‘Timely,’ I advised her, ‘and perfectly normal. She’s coping fine.’ I smiled. ‘I had to take her for some new bras last week, and a couple of bikinis.’

‘My God, she’s growing fast. I hope she knows when to stop.’

‘Like mother like daughter, I reckon.’ Susie’s not very tall, but she’s a big girl.

‘And Tom?’

‘Next time you call, and he picks up, you will get a shock.’

‘Oh dear,’ she sighed. ‘Does he sound like …’

‘Put it this way, the vocal register’s still a little bit higher, but he’s on the way there. He said something to me the other day when I had my back to him. He sounded so like his dad it made me shiver.’

‘Primavera, they’re so young. Or is it us that’s old?’

‘Hell no! It’s life; it’s what happens to your kids. What did you think, that they were Peter Pan and Tinkerbell?’

‘Maybe,’ she giggled, ‘with wee Jonathan as one of the Lost Boys. How’s he behaving?’

‘He’s as good as gold,’ I fibbed, slightly. ‘He doesn’t fancy the reggae concert.’ I paused. I’d been wondering how to get round to the reason for my call, and she’d given me an opening. ‘He and I have just been having a chat. You know what he told me? He thinks he saw Duncan Culshaw a few weeks ago, sitting at a table in Casino Square.’

There was a silence, just a couple of seconds, but it registered with me. ‘Oh,’ Susie exclaimed, breaking it, ‘that wee scamp. What an imagination he’s got.’

‘Yes, indeed. I doubt that even Duncan would have been stupid enough to go back to Monaco after you’d ended the relationship.’

‘I didn’t end it, Primavera,’ she said. ‘He left me, remember.’

‘I meant you, plural.’

‘Of course. Sorry.’ Her tone had changed. She was definitely shifty, where before, she’d been upfront.

I changed tack. ‘Have you finished your treatments?’

‘Yes. The last one was four days ago, but they gave me a platelet infusion after that. They said my count was low.’ She sounded matter-of-fact, but I didn’t like the sound of that. It meant that her blood was thin and that its essential ability to clot had been compromised, leaving her open to potential risks. ‘They’ve finished now, though,’ she continued. ‘My supervising clinician wants me to stay here to recuperate for another couple of weeks, but I’m not so sure about that. We’d like to get home sooner.’

‘We?’ I repeated.

‘Audrey and me,’ she replied, quickly.

‘Mmm. I tell you, Susie,’ I said, ‘I’m so glad wee Jonathan was wrong. You are well shot of that Duncan character. When I heard about him hitting Tom … I go cold with anger thinking about it.’

‘He did what? Who told you that?’