Robert Wilson: The Hidden Assassins

'Since yesterday there has been an increase in internet "chatter" and also some cell movement here in Spain. Can you comment?'

'There's nothing specific. There's a sense of excitement here and there's talk of one or more cells being activated, but it's nothing definite. Nothing I am told by the group who meet here in the house in the medina can be relied on.'

'Can you spend some time thinking about what you saw when you were taken out of Rabat to be given your initiation test? You mentioned the architectural and engineering books and some car manuals.'

'I'll think about it. I have to go now.' After lunch Falcon arranged for Zarrias to be brought up to the interview room.

'I'm not going to record this,' said Falcon. 'Nothing we say to each other now will be used in a court of law.'

Zarrias said nothing, he just looked at the person who could have been his brother-in-law.

'My Inspector has already told you that Lucrecio Arenas was shot three times in the back,' said Falcon. 'The maid found him face down in the pool. Do you want the people who did that to Lucrecio to get away with it?'

'No,' said Zarrias, 'but I can't help you, Javier, because I don't know who he was involved with.'

'Why was Cesar Benito important to this?' said Falcon. 'Do you think it was something to do with his construction company?'

Zarrias looked troubled, as if this question had brought something into the frame that he hadn't considered before.

'I don't think this was about money, Javier,' said Zarrias.

'On your part,' said Falcon. 'In a discussion between Lucrecio and Jesus yesterday your old friend told him that power in a democracy does not come without a great sense of indebtedness.'

Zarrias's head snapped back, as if he'd just been kicked in the face.

'Maybe you were working at cross purposes, Angel,' said Falcon. 'While you and Jesus were in it to make this world into what you consider to be a better place, Lucrecio and Cesar just wanted pure power and the money that comes with it.'

Silence.

'It happened in the Crusades, why shouldn't it happen now?' said Falcon. 'While some were out there battling for Christendom, others just wanted to kill, pillage and conquer new territory.'

'I cannot believe that of Lucrecio.'

'Maybe I should get Jesus to come down here and he can talk you through his disappointment,' said Falcon. 'I didn't see it, but he told me he was going to resign at eleven this morning and resume his career in business. I've never seen a man's idealism so emphatically extinguished.'

Angel Zarrias shook his head in denial.

'Didn't you stop to think, Angel, about the nature of the forces you were joining?' asked Falcon. 'Was there not one moment, after you'd poisoned Tateb Hassani and you knew that Agustin Cardenas was amputating his hands, burning off his face and scalping him, that you thought: "Are these the extremes to which one must go to achieve goodness in the world?" And if it didn't happen then, what about when you saw the shattered building and the four dead children under their school pinafores? Surely then you must have thought that you had inadvertently teamed yourself with something very dark?'

'If I did,' said Angel quietly, 'it was too late by then.' The press conference took place at 18.00 in the Andalucian Parliament building. Falcon had prepared a statement on his investigation, which had been incorporated into the official press release, to be delivered by Comisario Elvira. Falcon and Juez del Rey were attending the conference, but only to answer any questions on which Elvira didn't have the specific information. They were told to keep their replies to an absolute minimum.

The conference lasted about an hour and was a subdued affair. Elvira had just reached the point where he was looking to wrap up the event when a journalist at the back stood up.

'A final question for Inspector Jefe Falcon,' he said. 'Are you satisfied with this result?'

A brief silence. A cautionary look from Elvira. A woman leaned forward in the front row to get a good look at him.

'Experience tells me I might have to be,' said Falcon. 'It is the nature of all murder investigations that, the more time passes, the less chance there is that fresh discoveries will be made. However, I would like to tell the people of Seville that I, personally, am not satisfied with this outcome. With each act, terrorism reaches new depths of iniquity. Humanity now has to live in a world where people have been prepared to abuse a population's vulnerability to terrorism in order to gain power. I would have liked to have provided the ultimate resolution to this crime, which would have been to bring everyone, from the planners to the man who planted the device, to justice. We have only been partially successful, but, for me, the battle does not end with this press conference, and I want to assure all Sevillanos that I, and my squad, will do everything in our power to find all the perpetrators, wherever they may be, even if it takes me the rest of my career.' From the end of the press conference until 10.30 p.m. Falcon was in the Jefatura, catching up on the monumental load of paperwork that had accumulated in the five days of investigation. He went home, took a shower and changed, and was ready for the evening transmission to Yacoub when Gregorio came round at 11 p.m.

Gregorio was nervous and excited.

'It's been confirmed, from several different sources, that three separate cells are on the move. A group left Valencia last night by car, a married couple left from Madrid, in a transit van, early this morning and another group left from Barcelona, some together, some alone, at various times between Friday lunchtime and early this morning. They all seem to be heading for Paris.'

'Let's see what Yacoub makes of it,' said Falcon.

They made contact and exchanged introductions.

'I have no time,' wrote Yacoub. 'I have to leave for Paris on the 11.30 flight and it will take me more than an hour to get to the airport.'

'Any reason?'

'None. They told me to book my usual hotel in the Marais and that I would receive my instructions once I arrived.'

Falcon asked about the three cells activated in Spain since Friday, all heading for Paris.

'I've heard nothing. I have no idea if my trip is connected.'

'What about the "hardware"?'

'Still nothing. Any more questions? I have to leave now.'

Gregorio shook his head.

'When you were taken to the GICM camp for your initiation, you wrote about a wall of books-the car manuals. Have you remembered anything about them? It seems a curious thing to have.'

'They were all four-wheel-drive vehicles. I remember a VW insignia and a Mercedes. The third book was for Range Rover and the last I had to check my memory of the insignia on the internet. It was Porsche. That's it. I will try to make contact from Paris.'

Gregorio got up to leave, as if he'd just wasted his time.

'Any thoughts on that?' asked Falcon.

'I'll talk to Juan and Pablo, see what they think.'

Gregorio let himself out. Falcon sat back in his chair. He didn't like this intelligence work. Suddenly everything was moving around him at an alarming pace, with great urgency, but in reaction to electronic nods and winks. He could see how people could go mad in this world, where reality came in the form of "information" from "sources", and agents were told to go to hotels and wait for "instructions". It was all too disembodied for his liking. He never thought he'd hear himself say it, but he preferred his world, where there was a corpse, pathology, forensics, evidence and face-to-face dialogue. It seemed to him that intelligence work demanded the same leap of faith as religious belief and, in that respect, he'd always found himself in a twilight world, where his belief in a form of spirituality couldn't quite extend itself to the recognition of an ultimate being.