‘He may have found what he was after, or he may have felt that he’d pushed his luck far enough: I don’t know. I do know that whatever it was, or is, must be extremely valuable, for he and Lucille have had all that time since Capulet was killed to find it, and they’re still looking. More than that, they’re taking big risks to do it.’
‘Yes,’ Fortunato agreed. ‘But why? If this is something in the house, and Lucille is involved, why did she sell it to you in the first place? Why not refuse your offer and keep looking?’
‘I don’t have an answer to that one,’ I told him. ‘But I know a man who does. Why don’t we go and find him, once your people get here, and once you’ve contacted Interpol and asked them to find a photograph of Lucille Capulet and fax it to you.’
34
He wasn’t hard to find. He wasn’t in his office, but his secretary sent us to a bar at the far end of Riells beach; he was there, sitting at the bar, drinking cafe solo and talking to the attractive owner.
‘Hello Sergi,’ I hailed him in Castellano as we walked in. ‘Just the man I want to see. How about buying my friend and me a beer out of your commission on the sale of Casa Nou Camp?’
‘Que?’ he blurted out, then laughed. ‘Ah, you mean Villa Bernabeu.’
‘Not any more. I’m a Barca fan.’
‘Whatever. Sure I will buy you a beer, and your pal.’
‘You know him, do you? If not, let me introduce you to Captain Fortunato, of the Mossos in Girona.’
Sergi’s lantern jaw seemed to tense, but his expression stayed amiable as he shook the policeman’s hand.
‘You were just passing by?’ he asked, as the young man behind the bar poured two beers.
‘Not exactly,’ I admitted. ‘We were looking for you.’
‘Ah,’ the estate agent said slowly. ‘This is about the unfortunate business with the body in the swimming pool. I told the other policemen that I had no idea it was there, and they believed me.’
‘So do we.’
‘Ah, then maybe you want to talk about a discount on the price. I am sorry, but …’
‘No,’ Ramon interjected. ‘Senor Blackstone does not need the money. I want to ask you something, actually: some new questions.’
‘Okay.’
‘During the time when the villa was for sale, did you have other offers?’
Sergi nodded. ‘Yes, several. I had four, in fact. One was even for the full price.’
‘What did you do when each offer was received?’
‘I called the lawyer in Geneva who acts for the company which owned the villa. They said that they would consult Senora Capulet, but each time, they came back and said that she didn’t want to accept.’
‘So why did she accept our offer?’ Fortunato shot me a glance; he was annoyed at my joining in the questioning, but I didn’t give one. This was my line of enquiry we were following.
Sergi hesitated; I guess he was considering whether it was safe to tell the truth to the Mossos. Eventually he decided that it would have been risky not to.
‘The fact is,’ he admitted, ‘that she didn’t. I did.’ The policeman’s eyebrows rose, threateningly, but he went on, quickly.
‘I was annoyed with her. I am not in business for fun; I had been doing my best to sell her house, and four times before I could have done so. So when you offered, I said to myself, “Man, enough is enough”, and so I used the power of attorney which the company had given me at the beginning to complete the transaction.’
He glanced at Fortunato. ‘It was all quite legal, you understand. Ethical? In the circumstances I’d do it again. Silly woman; her brother Rey would not have messed me about like that if he hadn’t gone away.’
‘Sergi,’ I asked, ‘when the house was put up for sale, were all the valuables taken away?’
‘Sure. Lucille sent a man to take them to her.’
‘What was his name?’
‘He called himself Martin Guerre. His French accent was odd, so I guessed he was Swiss.’
‘Have you seen him since?’
‘I think I may have seen him about L’Escala once or twice, but I’m not sure.’
‘How about Lucille Capulet? Have you seen her?’
‘I wouldn’t know. I’ve never met her in my life.’
The captain would have left it at that, but I tried him with one more. ‘When the valuables were cleared away, what happened to the wine in the cellar?’
Sergi is not a guy who would recognise a trick question, even after he’d tripped over it. ‘What wine?’ he asked. ‘What cellar?’ As if to confirm his innocence, he gave me the biggest shrug I have ever seen. Even Fortunato was convinced by that.
We drank our beers, I bought two more, and a Campari and soda for our friend, and then we went back to the villa to see what progress the technicians were making.
35
As it happened they were only just starting, but while they were away something of greater interest to me had finished, for the time being at least. . my marriage.
After Fortunato had driven me back to Casa Nou Camp, instructed his men to report any significant finds to him at once, and headed home to God Knew What from Vero, I went wearily upstairs, stripped off my clothes and stepped straight into the shower.
I had finished towelling myself off, when I saw the note, in an envelope bearing the Husa Princesa crest, on the dressing table. Before I even picked it up, I went to Prim’s wardrobe and threw it open. Most of her clothes were gone.
I almost crumpled the letter and threw it away unread, but, once I had finished dressing, a mix of guilt and curiosity made me tear it open. It was more or less what I had expected.
Oz
We really have made a hash of it, haven’t we? You more so than me, from where I stand, but you’d expect me to say that wouldn’t you.
I’m sorry that I kept so many things from you; things like Fergal going off and dumping me, how it really was here after you did the same thing, and what really happened between me and Ramon. I don’t know how you guessed that he was with me in Barcelona, unless you called Veronique looking for him, and she told you that he was away. I should reproach you for not thinking better of me, only you were right. I am no better than you. You took your revenge with Susie, and I took mine with him.
From your tone when you called earlier, I suspect that if I stayed and said that we should call it evens and try to start again, you’d agree. I can’t do that, though, and I think you’ll understand why.
The thing is, I don’t know you any more; I know you’d say the same to me, if you were honest. If I did come back, we’d be strangers to a large extent. We might say the right things and do the right things, but it would be for the sake of it and there would be raw resentment burning just under the surface in both of us. Sooner or later one of us would explode, and that really would be the end of it.
I’m not going back to Ramon, that I can promise you, even after Veronique kicks him out, as I expect she will after you tell her what’s happened. You’re too vengeful not to. I’ve seen too much of his weakness, just as I’ve seen too much of your ruthlessness. It wasn’t just me who kept things secret, you know. You were worse in a way; you kept your secrets from yourself.
What I am doing is going back to Los Angeles, back to Mum, and back to help Dawn after she has the baby. I’ll say nothing to them about what’s happened, I promise you. I won’t screw things up between you and Miles. No, you go back to Glasgow for the premiere, and for your acting coaching. Maybe you’ll go back to Susie, I don’t know. Nothing I can do about that. If you don’t, when you come out to Los Angeles to start rehearsals and filming, maybe we can see each other again and see what the prospects are for a salvage operation.
I don’t know what’s going on under the stairs. The police wouldn’t tell me, and I don’t think I want to know, anyway. I’ve put the Merc in the garage and taken a taxi to Perpignan. I’ll fly to Paris from there, then on.