Питер Мэй - A Silent Death

‘Never went to university,’ Mackenzie said. ‘I taught myself all my languages.’

Antonio’s eyes opened wide. ‘ All your languages? How many do you speak?’

‘Four if you include English.’

Antonio whistled softly. ‘That makes me feel very inadequate. My English is very poor. Lucas speaks it better than I do. Don’t you, son?’

Lucas blushed.

‘We send him to a private Catholic school near Estepona. They teach half his subjects in the medium of English. It costs an arm and a leg, and we have to drive him there every day. But you have to make sacrifices, don’t you? Can’t put a price on your children’s future.’

Mackenzie felt a stab of guilt, and wondered if it could be said that he had made sufficient sacrifices for his.

Almost as if he sensed it, Antonio said, ‘Do you have any yourself?’

Mackenzie nodded. ‘Two.’ But he didn’t want to elaborate. That would only lead to the subject of his marriage and his separation from Susan. Subjects he did not want to discuss with strangers, but would feel obliged to do so if they asked. He was rescued by a flustered Cristina carrying two steaming plates of spaghetti bolognese to the table. She placed one each in front of Mackenzie and Lucas and hurried off to get another two, while Antonio poured red wine into their glasses.

He laughed ‘ Boloñesa . An Italian dish for your first night in Spain.’

Cristina returned with the other plates, but was not amused. ‘Pasta is quick and easy,’ she said, ‘when you have been out working all day.’

‘We all work all day, cielo .’

‘But we don’t all have to make dinner when we get home.’

Antonio’s smile was strained. ‘Except when your wife’s on the night shift being shot at.’

Mackenzie sensed the tension between them and took a mouthful of spaghetti to avoid having to speak.

‘Nobody shot at me.’

‘No, just threatened to kill you and your family after you made him shoot his girlfriend.’

Cristina glared at him, and flicked her eyes pointedly toward Lucas, as if to say not in front of the boy ! But Lucas appeared not to be paying any attention, his eyes fixed on the TV screen in the corner, and Mackenzie thought he must have heard this script before.

Antonio tried to laugh it off. ‘It’s a tough town this,’ he said to Mackenzie. ‘You wouldn’t think so to look at it. Especially since the ayuntamiento spent taxpayers’ money on the makeover. Tourists flock here in the summer. Beautiful buildings, wonderful views, delicious wine. Unaware of the gangs that operate out of the derelict housing developments on the outskirts. Boom town Marviña until the financial crash. You’ll have seen the consequences everywhere, all over the valley. Unfinished apartment blocks. Concrete skeletons. Cranes standing over them, like dinosaurs frozen in time. Most of them haven’t moved in over ten years, the companies that owned them long since gone bust.’

‘Breeding grounds for crime,’ Cristina said gloomily. ‘Squatters. Illegal immigrants. Drugs gangs.’

Antonio used his fork to wind spaghetti into a ball in his spoon. ‘The kind of people the mother of my son has to mix with every day.’ He flashed a glance towards his wife.

‘Not really,’ Cristina said. She seemed weary. This was a well-rehearsed argument. ‘The men get to do all the fun stuff. I get to do paperwork, traffic duty and search female suspects. A little ironic since I actually topped my year at the police academy.’

Antonio said to Mackenzie, ‘Her parents were dead set against her joining the police.’

Mackenzie was so far out of his comfort zone he had no idea how to respond. ‘They must be very proud of you,’ he said. It seemed like the right kind of thing to say.

‘They’re dead,’ Cristina said flatly, and Mackenzie wanted the ground to open up beneath him. But neither of his hosts seemed aware of it. Mackenzie wished Lucas had never found him, and that he was still sitting in the bar up at the Hostal Totana, enjoying a beer and a sandwich.

He made a clumsy attempt to change the subject. ‘So what kind of area do the police here cover?’

Cristina shrugged. ‘In Marviña we’re responsible for policing halfway to Estepona and all the way down the coast to Torreguadiaro. As well as a good swathe of territory inland. Just the mundane stuff. The juicy crimes go to the judicial police in Estepona or get referred to the homicide or drugs squads in Malaga.’

‘But drugs are your biggest problem?’

‘The root of all evil,’ Antonio said.

Cristina nodded her agreement. ‘The users steal to feed their habit. The dealers diversify. Prostitution, people-trafficking. We know who most of them are, but it’s hard to get solid evidence. Usually we only ever nail them for personal possession or DUI, then they’re back on the streets again in no time. The big stuff... they hide that well. Safe houses up in the hills.’

Mackenzie frowned. ‘Safe houses? What do you mean?’

Antonio said, ‘Farmers get coerced into keeping the stuff for them. Innocents with no connection at all to the gangs. Drugs get hidden in barns and cowsheds. The really big stashes. And if it’s your farm they choose, you only object if you’ve grown tired of life.’

Lucas slipped off his seat and started towards his bedroom. His spaghetti was only half-eaten. Cristina said sharply, ‘Where do you think you’re going? You haven’t finished yet.’

‘I’ve got homework to do.’ He looked back at them and delivered his coup de grâce. ‘Unless you want to help.’

Antonio pulled a face. ‘Maths again?’

Lucas nodded.

Cristina sighed. ‘I think we’re going to have to get you a tutor, Lucas.’

Lucas shrugged. ‘Whatever.’ And headed off to his room.

‘We can’t afford a tutor.’ Antonio looked at her pointedly.

Cristina turned towards Mackenzie. ‘He’s a bright boy. Doing really well in most subjects. But maths...’ She shrugged hopelessly.

‘Must be in the genes,’ Antonio said. ‘Neither of us are remotely equipped to help him. I mean, I sell cars down in Santa Ana. The extent of my arithmetic is subtracting the trade-in value from the asking price and adding on the extras.’

‘Maybe I could help,’ Mackenzie said. ‘I have a degree in mathematics.’

An astonished silence fell across the table. Cristina said, ‘You have a degree in maths?’

‘Among other things.’

Antonio said, ‘Four languages and multiple degrees! What on earth are you doing in the police?’

Cristina flicked him a look, but Mackenzie said simply, ‘My dad was a cop.’

Cristina said, ‘Well, if you’re around long enough, maybe you could see if there’s anything you could do to help the boy. But here’s hoping we get Cleland sooner rather than later.’

Not least, Mackenzie thought, because it would take the strain off this whole family. Even he could see that living with Cleland’s threat of reprisal was taking its toll. He stood up. ‘I should be going.’

‘Already?’ Antonio seemed disappointed.

Mackenzie said to Cristina, ‘You told me you’re taking your sister to the hospital in the morning.’

She nodded. ‘Yes.’

‘I hope it’s nothing serious.’

‘She has breast cancer.’

‘Oh.’ Again he was at a loss for how to respond, and scared to say anything in case it was the wrong thing — as Susan had so often accused him of doing.

‘I’m picking up Paco, too. He’s getting released tomorrow.’

‘All one big happy family,’ Antonio quipped, though his smile said it was anything but.

The Colegio Cánovas del Castillo comprised a collection of square white buildings set someway back from the road to Estepona, behind Burger King and the Mercadona supermarket.