Quintin Jardine - On Honeymoon With Death

‘Maybe tomorrow,’ she said. ‘I’m going to stay another day. Twenty-four hours in the sin-bin isn’t punishment enough. Apart from that, what you asked me last night really threw me. It stirred up a lot more stuff I’d hoped was buried, and I need to think about it before I talk to you.

‘You really didn’t get it from Dad?’ she asked.

‘I promise I didn’t.’

‘Then you’ve either had a call from Fergal. . his name was Fergal Keenan. . or you’re a bloody psychic.’

‘Maybe there’s more to life than we can see and touch,’ I said.

‘What do you mean by that?’

‘I’ll tell you when I see you. Go on, make it today.’

‘No! Tell you what, the day after tomorrow, for sure. I’ll be back for lunch; book somewhere expensive.’

She hung up. Again, I thought about Susie’s advice to drive down to Barcelona. I might have done it too, if the doorbell hadn’t rung.

I hadn’t a clue who it might be as I walked to answer its call; Lionell, maybe come to start his painting of the house, or Shirley, come to investigate Prim’s renewed absence. The last person I expected to find was Veronique Sanchez i Leclerc.

It was a cold, grey day outside and she was wrapped up in a heavy coat, with a silk scarf round her head. She still looked beautiful, though; nervous, agitated, but beautiful.

‘Vero,’ I exclaimed, surprised, but secretly pleased to see her. ‘Come on in. Where’s Alejandro? You haven’t left him in the car, have you?’

‘No,’ she replied, in Spanish. ‘He is with my mother.’

‘Sit down,’ I told her. ‘Or come with me if you like, while I make us some coffee.’ I remembered that my script was spread all over the coffee table, and began to worry about the draught from the door. ‘Go on through to the kitchen while I tidy up these papers.’ She nodded and walked through without a word, past the staircase. I was sure that on the night of the party she had never left the living room, other than to put Alejandro to bed upstairs.

When I rejoined her, she had laid her coat and scarf on a kitchen stool and was cleaning out the percolator, flushing the used grounds from the receptacle into the waste disposal in one of the twin sinks. I took the Bonka from the cupboard and handed it to her, together with the measuring tool. ‘Here,’ I said. ‘You do it. I never seem to get the strength right in that thing.’

She smiled at me faintly, then measured out three and a half scoops, filled the water container up to the valve, and put it on one of the fast rings on the hob. I felt as if I was watching her in her own kitchen.

‘This is a pleasant surprise,’ I began, breaking the silence once more.

‘Prim is not here?’ she asked.

‘No. She’s in Barcelona. . shopping,’ I added. ‘Why? Was it her you came to see?’

‘No, I came to see you rather than her. I am worried about the girl.’

‘What girl?’ Then it dawned. ‘You mean Gabrielle? But I thought that Ramon was taking her to the Filipino Consulate yesterday, for her flight home.’

She nodded, vigorously. ‘Yes, he did, late yesterday afternoon. But on the way south he called into his office in Girona, to pick something up. He left her in the car while he went inside, and when he came out, she was gone. He doesn’t know whether she just ran off or whether someone took her.

‘He has had all his men looking for her ever since; last night he stayed in Girona and went round all of the clubs in the area, just in case he might find her in one of them. He called me this morning to say that she is still missing.’

Given that he had been reluctant to investigate the stiff in my pool, I was surprised that Fortunato had pulled out all the stops for one runaway Filipina, but I guessed that he felt himself to blame for losing her, and wanted to find her before he had to answer some awkward questions.

‘So what brings you here, Vero?’

She looked at me with her big amber eyes. ‘I thought that if she has run away, she would know very few places to go. In fact this would almost be the only place she would know. So I came to ask whether she had returned here, and to warn you, in case she does.’

‘Is your telephone out of order?’ I asked her, as I switched off the hob and filled two mugs with coffee, handing one to her. ‘I know mine isn’t, because I’ve had a couple of calls already this morning. You could have phoned to tell me all that, but you didn’t. You parked the baby with your mother and you came here.’

I smiled at her, wanting to put her at her ease as much as I could, while finding out why she had really come. ‘Did you hope to see Prim, on her own, maybe? So you could thank her for kicking Ramon out of her life and sending him back to you?’

She returned my grin, contriving to look awkward and embarrassed. ‘Something like that, perhaps. Yes, I used Gabrielle as an excuse.’

‘Then it’s probably as well she isn’t here, because she couldn’t have gone along with it, not any more. Ramon knew about the kid and Ramon made her abort it. She didn’t kick Ramon out, he walked out, and damn near broke her in the process.

‘But you’re not stupid. None of that is news to you, is it?’

She shot me a narrow-eyed look that scored up one to me.

‘So come on, what’s this visit really about? I know I’m a damned attractive guy, and I’m in the movies and on the telly and all that stuff, but you’re no groupie. Not that I’d say no if the offer was made, you understand. . I have absolutely no moral fibre, as my wife will tell you.

‘Let me take a guess. You’re here because you wanted to be in this house again, just one more time, back in his house, Rey Capulet’s house. Or one of his houses. What was the Paris place like? As big as this?’

She tried to speak but I wasn’t ready to let her. ‘Why did you want to be here, then, Vero? Are you looking for something? Are you and Ramon looking for something, maybe?

‘Did Capulet give you a key for this villa at one time? Do you still have it, perhaps?’

She looked me up and down for a while, then she put down her mug and moved towards me, without a word. She threw her arms around my neck, and kissed me, pressing her body against me. It was some body.

Of course, I had meant what I said about not turning down any genuine offers. I carried her up that great big staircase. . God, but it was getting to be a habit. . and into the master bedroom.

I wish I could say that it was great, sensational, Earth-shattering and all that other stuff, but it wasn’t. She was grim, tense and determined; I was just along for the ride, so to speak. ‘Who was that for?’ I asked her, when we were finished. ‘Ramon? Capulet? It wasn’t for my sake, that’s for sure.’

‘It was for both of them, and yes, maybe it was for you too. You’re bastards, all three of you, and I despise you all.’

‘Hey!’

‘Don’t protest to me,’ she retorted, getting out of bed and walking, naked into the bathroom. The door was closed, and it could have led to a cupboard, but she walked straight to it, knowing exactly where she was going. I heard water splashing; not the shower or the basin, but the bidet as she tried to wash me off her, and out of her.

‘You’re no better than they are,’ she said, as she slipped back into bed. ‘Remember how you left Prim here.

‘Ramon? He had countless affairs before I met him, and just as many afterwards. Finally, I left him for Capulet after I saw him coming out of a sex club near Figueras. . And no, he was not on duty.

‘Rey? He turned out to be the worst of the three of you. I didn’t know the business he was in when I went with him; his business with those poor girls, those poor slaves. As soon as I found out I left him and came back to Albons.