`Why didn't you crack down on it? Put in an accountant?'
`In a business like this, it's not that easy to pin down the overhead. There are always things that you didn't budget for. Things like putting clients up in a hotel for a night or two because the maid forgot to renew the gas bottle in their apartment and you can't get one till Monday, unexpected trips to the airport with clients, people taking inspection flights over and ripping you off by buying from someone else. Loads of wee things like that can cut into your costs. I've always reckoned I'd just have to live 'with that. As I said to you in Scotland, Mr
Skinner, I've been feeling a bit uneasy lately, but until Pitkeathly there's been nothing to go on. Now there's this five million.'
`How often did you see Santi Alberni?' Pujol asked.
I'm over here about half a dozen times a year, in some years more. When I'm here, even apart from on business, I see Santi a lot. And Gloria, of course.'
`Are you married, Senor?'
Was once — not now.'
Pujol sighed. 'Ah, yes. I can say the same. And so could Bob here, until recently. Now he has a wife and a new family to go home to, so we should let him do that. Senor, I shall drive you to your villa, and tomorrow we will begin the search for the origin of Santi Alberni's five million.'
Thirty-two
Gloria and her father called in while you were gone. To thank us for yesterday.'
`I hope you told them it was de nada.'
`Of course.'
`How's she bearing up?'
`Pretty well. She's got guts — and her father being here's helping her a lot too. Arturo's told her that he'll release the body tomorrow straight after the autopsy, all being well. They're fixing the funeral for Wednesday. Gloria asked if we'd go. I said yes, if Kathleen could find us a babysitter.'
`Wait and see: Kathleen'll do it herself. There'll be no stopping her.'
`Then she'll be Jazz's first official sitter. It's just too bad about the reason we need one.'
`Yes. Here, try this theory for size. Apparently Ainscow's footloose and fancy free. No current missus. Arturo was wondering if he and Gloria might have been having it off, then Santi found out and couldn't take it. What d'you think?'
`No way. She's a well-brought-up Spanish lady. She wouldn't do that. And Santi was a Spanish guy, remember. If Arturo's idea was right, Santi would have been more likely to kill her, and Ainscow, than himself. No way, no way, no way.'
`Yes, that's more or less what I said to Arturo as well.'
They were dining at home, on their wide terrace. The air had cleared with the cooling of the day, and the jagged skyline of the Pyrenees was etched sharply on the horizon. The sun had just fallen and the sky along the mountains had taken on the pinkish tinge that they knew would darken and turn purple with the breakthrough of the earliest of the evening stars.
Sarah raised her glass of Fonter towards the Pyrenees in a toast. 'To my big mountain. It's a dream here; Bob, isn't it?'
He looked at her and smiled; a smile from the eyes, a smile from the heart. 'Because of you, Professor Sarah, all because of you. The best night I ever had in this town was the night you said you'd marry me. I still dream about that — here and in Scotland.'
She smiled back at him. Their eyes locked, and the air between them seemed to grow warmer, in defiance of the gathering — dusk. 'Ask me again,' she whispered.
He gave a tiny shake of his head. 'No. You might give me a different answer.'
`No chance of that, copper. You're stuck with me.'
He reached across the table and took her hand. 'Well, in that case.His smile widened again into a grin which had, only one meaning.
And then the telephone rang.
'Bugger.' Bob walked into the villa and picked it up. 'Nola.'
`Hi, hombre. How goes it with you, and how's my kid brother?' Alex's timing has always been accidentally impeccable, Bob thought.
`It goes great with us all, and your kid brother is unstoppable. Eats, sleeps, shits and smiles; that just about sums him up. He doesn't stint on any of them, either.'
`Buy him a drink for me, then.'
Bob laughed at his daughter's obvious delight in her new sibling. 'Aye, I'll do that.'
`I hear you're busy out there, Pops. Andy said you'd fallen on some police work.'
`Andy said?'
`Yes. I'm at his place just now.' Before he could comment, she added, `I'm staying at Fairyhouse Avenue tonight.'
`Yes, fine. How are the finals?'
`One to go, on Tuesday. Studying's over, though. You could say that quiet confidence is flowing down the telephone line.'
`Good. Keep your mind on Tuesday, and let's hope that confidence is not misplaced.'
`So what is this thing you're caught up in?'
`It's a mess, but we'll sort it out in the next couple of days, I reckon. Now go and give Andy's phone bill a break. I'll call you after your last exam.'
`Don't make it Tuesday evening, then. Andy's taking me out to celebrate. Bye.'
He went back to the terrace, and to Sarah. She looked at him, enquiring with her eyes.
`Alex. Asking after Jazz. She's at Andy's.'
`Mmm.' Sarah smiled a quiet smile.
Bob reached his hand across the table once more. 'Now Professor, as I was saying..
And then, through the baby intercom, came the strident sound of Jazz's first waking cry.
Bob shook his head and laughed. 'That does it. I'm going to have a beer. I know whose needs come first in this house!'
Thirty-three
‘My God, Bob, I'm cooked. Stand back, man, and let me get out of this shirt. Why did I choose to wear this spring gear? Why didn't I just put on a blouse and shorts, like every sensible woman I've seen today?'
`How's Jazz?'
'Fine, Good as gold. What does a Spanish postmortem look like then?'
'Messy, just like everywhere else. Dr Martinez, the pathologist, was first-class, though. We could use one or two like him back home. Nothing unnecessary. Straight to the point. . Back in a minute.' She ran off towards the bedroom to change. When she reappeared in the kitchen a few minutes later, she was wearing a Lycra swimsuit and shorts.
Bob handed her a coffee. 'What's the verdict, then?'
‘Exactly as you'd expect. Death by asphyxiation, due to hanging. All vital organs okay, brain normal. Santi was as healthy as a horse, so you can rule out terminal illness as a motive. Slight alcohol level in the blood, but no more than you'd find from three or four beers the night before, No unusual marks on the body, apart from horizontal bruising on each upper arm. The pathologist suggested — and it's as good an explanation as I can think of — that the short sleeves of his shirt tightened on him as he struggled, after kicking the chair away. There was an oily mark on the chair by the way, and oil on the sole of Santi's left shoe.'
`How do you know he struggled?'
`Martinez found yellow hemp fibres from the rope under his fingernails. His proposition was that, after Santi kicked the chair away, he thought better of it and clawed at the rope. That fits too. It's a common finding in autopsies on hanging suicides.'
`So that's it then. Suicide officially.'
Sarah nodded. 'Yes. Arturo said he's completely satisfied. He's going to put the papers before a magistrate, but that's what they'll say, and that's what the magistrate will rule.' She paused, looking suddenly gloomy. 'I wish it was otherwise, for Gloria's sake. I looked in to see her on the way back, to let her know what had happened. She still refuses to believe that her husband could have done something like that. You couldn't do some clever detecting and prove otherwise, could you?'