Revenge in Barcelona

by Kathryn Lane

  “That’s good work,” Alberto said.

  “Yes, it is,” Rafael said, nodding in approval.

  The young agent instructed her audience to turn their attention to the second screen as she ran a video showing a different angle on the boulevard. “Wait. Of more interest to me is a man who also appears to be following them.” Teresa directed the laser light on a small black GLC 300 Mercedes coupe.

  The investigators in the room watched the car stop. A man stepped out of the Mercedes from the rear seat shortly after the suspect turned the corner onto Carrer de Provença. The man adjusted a felt fedora and passed in front of Casa Milà at the intersection of Passeig de Gràcia and Carrer de Provença.

  “Notice how our subject waits for his driver to move back into the stream of traffic before he moves around the corner and leans against the wall to watch our suspect,” Teresa said.

  “Looks like the tracker following the foreigners was also being tracked, not only by the two women but also by the man in the fedora,” Alberto said.

  “We never see the man’s face,” another agent said. “He has checked out the CCTV placement.”

  “For that matter we have not seen the African’s face either,” Alberto added. “He wears that golf cap low over his face and he never looks up. He’s also verified the camera angles.”

  “Or he is simply good at keeping his head down and hidden under the cap,” Teresa said.

  “Do we know for certain that this Nigerian we have in custody is the one who set off the bomb at Sagrada Família?” one of the other agents asked.

  “Our Rapid DNA testing team matched the suspect’s DNA to that found on the phone dropped on the street right after the bombing. He’s also admitted to detonating the bomb,” Rafael said.

  “Although we never see his face at Sagrada Família or on Passeig de Gràcia, I’ve compared body images from both locations and they match perfectly,” Teresa said. Then she used the laser again. “Now as we return to the video on Passeig de Gràcia, you will see the two Rom women following the suspect. The question is whether the Rom women are ever aware of the man in the fedora.”

  “When you informed me early this morning of the man following them in the car, I questioned the women,” Rafael said. “They were oblivious.”

  “By the way, do we have those women in protective custody?” an agent asked.

  “No, they are in a safe house,” Rafael said. “I thought they would be more comfortable. You know how the Rom are.”

  “Averse to anything to do with law enforcement,” Alberto said, nodding in agreement.

  Rafael had informed his boss of the connection between himself and Olani and Selena, but the team didn’t need to know.

  “Let’s listen to Teresa,” Alberto said to focus the agents on the reason for the meeting.

  “Here’s another look at the Rom women. We’ve already seen the one on the right side run after the suspect when he pulls the gun right before he turns the corner,” Teresa said as the men watched the suspect disappear around the edge of the building. “She removes something from her pocket, which we will see shortly turn out to be tarot cards.”

  Teresa stopped momentarily and switched to a third monitor. The agents watched a long view of the street on the video showing the woman waving her hands in the face of the suspect. “When she uses the cards to distract the suspect, he retaliates by knocking her unconscious. Now let’s refocus on the man in the fedora. When he sees the suspect knock the Rom down, he takes a couple of steps as if he’s going to interfere in the squabble between our suspect and the woman. At least until he sees a patrol car arriving at the incident.”

  The agents in the room saw the man in the fedora return to the sidewalk and walk away from the patrol car.

  “As you can see, the man in the hat removes a phone from his pocket and makes a call as he moves tranquilly toward the boulevard,” Teresa said. “I’m not going to take your time, but I can tell you we have traced the car on Avinguda Diagonal, past the University of Barcelona to the Parc de Pedralbes. That’s where we lost him for lack of CCTV. We should be able to close in on him in a few days.”

  “We don’t have a few days,” Rafael said. “What about the tags on the car?”

  “Registered to a foreign woman. We have not found any information on her. Absolutely nothing. The address on the registration is a guest house in Poble Nou. My search found a driver’s license in her name showing that same address. We know the guest house is a remodeled factory and caters to businesspeople. Been open for about four years.”

  “Alberto, you need to check out the guest house, the owners, the guest register. You know the ropes,” Rafael said.

  “Going back to our CCTV, look what happens here,” Teresa said as she stopped the video and froze the frame of a man’s face fully visible under his hat.

  “Did you run it through the facial recognition app?” Rafael asked.

  “Yes, I did. Do you want to venture a guess?” the young agent asked.

  The room was silent.

  “Not a single hit on that face. I asked myself how that could happen in today’s world of infinite digital information. So I printed the photo and hit the streets asking people if they had seen the face. It was fun.” Teresa paused. “Actually I only went one place. The Majestic Hotel. In the meeting on Monday morning, Rafael mentioned an aloof character, someone of interest, staying there. The concierge identified him as El Saraway, a hotel guest.”

  “Good job, Teresa,” Rafael said. “Now let’s all get back to work.”

  Chapter Forty-Four

  Barcelona—General Directorate of Police

  Wednesday Midmorning

  With the meeting adjourned by eleven, Rafael asked Alberto to walk with him to his office. Rafael opened the top drawer of his desk and took out a folder.

  “Here are two search warrants I got signed this morning. We need to pay a visit to Sonia Ussam’s flower shop. After that we’ll go to her apartment to see what she might have stashed away there.”

  Both men walked down the corridor to the elevator, getting out at the basement level and moving through the underground parking garage to Rafael’s car.

  “Do you think Sonia might be implicated?” Alberto asked as Rafael drove.

  “At first I didn’t. She was tough, yet a real cool cookie when I interviewed her. I decided it was not necessary to formally question her at the station. But I’ve changed my mind after interrogating Adebayo.”

  As Rafael approached the flower shop, he started looking for parking on the street. Unable to locate a spot, he had no choice but to drive into an underground garage used by patrons of the shopping district where the shop was located.

  The two men climbed the stairs to the street and walked to the shop.

  “Coño,” Rafael said. “Damn my ass. It’s closed. Let’s get to her house.”

  Not wanting to drive to her apartment, Rafael hailed a cab and both men got in the rear seat. He opened the file to check the address before instructing the driver where to take them. Twenty minutes later Alberto paid the fare as Rafael hurried out of the taxi before it came to a full stop. Alberto followed his boss into the apartment building, flashed his badge at the concierge on duty, and got into the elevator with Rafael.

  “You’re in a rush.”

  “I’m concerned she may have fled.”

  Rafael knocked on the door to Sonia’s apartment. After three attempts, Alberto pulled a Bogotá-style rake from his pocket and started picking the lock. He manipulated the rake by employing a scrubbing motion first and then jiggling it to cause the pins within the chambers to rotate to an open position.

  “You are the master of break-in operations,” Rafael noted as Alberto opened the door.

  The men walked into the apartment. When Sonia did not respond to Alberto calling her name loudly three times, they pulled disposable latex gloves from the back pockets of their pants and went to work looking for evidence.

  Rafael entered the bedroom
. The bed was unmade with the sheets and bedspread on the floor. Several pairs of panties and socks plus two bras were scattered on top of the sheet covering the mattress. When Rafael lifted a pillow near the headboard, he found a clear plastic bag crammed full of lipsticks, two small jars of makeup, eye creams, and a tube of hand lotion. Rafael deduced Sonia had intended to pack it but forgot it in her haste. Rafael walked to the doorway and raised his voice enabling Alberto to hear him.

  “Someone was in a hurry to get out of here.”

  “The kitchen corroborates that fact. Scrambled eggs are in a skillet, cooked but left untouched,” Alberto yelled back. He started down the narrow hall toward the bedroom. “Have you found anything of interest to take with us?”

  “The closet has clothes on the floor. I kicked them aside and there’s a laptop computer there we need to bag and bring with us.”

  Rafael headed to the chest of drawers. He opened each drawer and searched through it. Remembering Sonia’s distaste for banking institutions, he returned to the mattress and removed the fitted sheet. He inspected the three sides that were easily accessible. With his hand, he felt between the mattress and the box springs. Finding nothing, he asked Alberto to help him move the mattress away from the headboard. And there it was—an obvious hole on the fourth side.

  Rafael stuck his hand through the slit into the cavity. His fingers touched an item and he nudged it out. It was an envelope. He opened it, removed three sheets of paper, and unfolded them. The first was a letter from Massú. The other two sheets were test results from a genetics laboratory associated with the University of Barcelona.

  Rafael saw Massú’s and Sonia’s names at the top of one of the sheets. Massú’s name was also at the top of the last page but instead of Sonia’s, it was Fadi’s name. When Rafael read the results, he saw they were genetic tests to determine the markers for Parkinson’s disease.

  “Offhand, I’d say Massú has a paternity issue.” Rafael’s eyes scanned the letter from Massú to his daughter. “Massú knows Sonia is his daughter, but he also knows Fadi was not his son. Obviously Sonia knows it, too.”

  “How did you know where to search?” Alberto asked as he waved his hand toward the mattress while Rafael was still reading the test results.

  “When I interviewed her at her shop, she made a remark about not trusting banks. She also mentioned stickers she places with the name of her shop on the bottom of the pots.”

  “If all the bombs had detonated, there would be no evidence of those stickers,” Alberto said.

  “That’s right. Sloppy work. I think we have a new suspect to apprehend,” Rafael said, “with a motive—inheriting her father’s money.” He folded the sheets of paper, placed them in one of the evidence bags, and removed his gloves.

  “From the appearance of the apartment, I think our new suspect is running from the consequences of the bombing,” Alberto said. “Shall I ask Teresa to put out a national alert to stop and arrest her?”

  “You close up here and take the evidence bags,” Rafael said. “I’ll call Teresa from the street. To issue an order to keep her from leaving the country. And her father, too.”

  Chapter Forty-Five

  Barcelona

  Wednesday Midmorning to Midafternoon

  Nikki and Eduardo arrived at the hospital. Carmen would be discharged by early afternoon and they planned to take her home and spend part of the day with her. Nikki explained to the doctor that one of Carmen’s close friends, Ramona, would arrive midafternoon, have dinner with Carmen, and stay the night. Nikki and Eduardo would return the next morning to check on Carmen’s recovery. Another one of Carmen’s friends would arrive and remain through the day and cook meals.

  The doctor informed Nikki he had arranged for a nurse to visit Carmen every day for two weeks to clean and dress her wounds, but overall, he was certain the patient would continue to recover.

  “The symptom to watch for is depression,” the doctor said. “After all she’s been through, she is certain to be on an emotional roller coaster.”

  “In addition to everything else,” Nikki said, “her condo was broken into after the bombing. Last night my husband and I straightened as much up as we could. We need to tell her about the break-in before we take her home.”

  “Why don’t you both go to her room now and tell her. If she becomes upset, I can always keep her another night for observation.”

  Nikki walked in and saw Carmen sitting up in bed. She leaned over to give her aunt a kiss on the forehead and Carmen held her hand out to grab Nikki’s.

  “I’m so glad to see you. Thank you for doing so much for me.”

  “Oh, Tía Carmen, I wish we could help. With everything that’s happened, I hate to add more bad news.”

  Carmen looked at Nikki with apprehension.

  Eduardo handed Paula’s letter to Carmen.

  Carmen sat up straighter in bed. “Paula gave me the letter at breakfast the morning of the wedding. We discussed it. She couldn’t express herself so she had to write, but she also mentioned our relationship would improve because she’d promised Fadi she would work on it.” She handed the letter back to Eduardo.

  “We should give it to the detective,” Nikki said.

  “I told him about it,” Carmen said, “the morning he came to interrogate me. I told him he could have you get it for him.”

  “When you asked me to pick up Paula’s computer at your condo,” Nikki said, “we discovered someone had broken in and gone through the entire apartment. I’m so sorry to have to tell you. They made a mess of things.”

  “Material things can be replaced easily enough. It’s Paula and Fadi and his mother, and Carlos, my late husband’s only brother. And all those other people who lost their lives. That’s what causes me anguish.”

  Nikki felt tears forming in her eyes. Carmen was right. Material items are the least of one’s concerns when faced with tragedies. But above all, Nikki sensed the courage Carmen was marshaling to overcome the sad events of the past week. She also realized for the first time that Carmen would be able to confront the sorrow and move on with her life. Not immediately, but with time. Nikki knew from experience it would never be easy, but the pain would subside into the background.

  “And there is another matter I need to bring up to you and Eduardo,” Carmen said. “You have started a new life together. Try to retain the good memories of your wedding, of Paula and Fadi, and of Spain. Don’t let the terrorists who carried out this atrocious act claim victory. We must win, not them. We must carry forth and live productive lives.”

  Nikki was crying. She threw her arms around Carmen. Eduardo, also with tears in his eyes, came over and embraced them.

  Two hours later, Eduardo pushed the wheelchair off the elevator. Nikki rushed to unlock the door and hold it open as Eduardo rolled the wheelchair into Carmen’s condo. The sweet, rich fragrance of jasmine greeted them. The dining and living rooms were covered with containers of fresh flowers, including white jasmine. Every tabletop, every shelf on every cabinet had vases overflowing with blossoms and greenery. And three of Carmen’s closest friends rushed over to greet her.

  Nikki and Eduardo went into the kitchen to give the women time to shed a tear, hug, and support one another. Soon Carmen was calling her niece and nephew to rejoin the group. Ramona showed Nikki a schedule they had worked out to assist Carmen through her convalescence.

  “We’ll leave for now, but we’re only a phone call away. I’ll return for dinner this evening. And we will have a pajama party after that,” Ramona said. She patted Carmen’s shoulder gently. “Just you and me.”

  Carmen smiled, yet her eyes showed sadness.

  The women left the condo and Eduardo closed the door behind them.

  “Can I get you anything?” Nikki asked.

  “Yes,” Carmen responded. “I need to know about Paula’s computer. Did you find it?”

  “I’m afraid not. That’s probably why the break-in happened,” Nikki said.

  Carmen c
overed her eyes with her hands. She started crying.

  “I’m sorry, Tía. I wish we had thought of it and come here sooner.”

  “I’m so concerned Paula was part of this conspiracy,” Carmen said. She sobbed as she tried to get the words out.

  “What makes you think that?” Eduardo asked.

  “Many things. She converted to Islam. Never told me, but I know my daughter. She was attending a mosque every evening. Why she gave up flamenco. I’m sure that’s why she arrived late the night I prepared paella.”

  “Did Fadi attend the mosque with her?” Eduardo asked.

  “Fadi was not a practicing Muslim. He may have gone once or twice with her, but not on a regular basis. And something else worries me. Fernando Massú came by the hospital. He practically told me Paula was involved.”

  “That man has some nerve,” Eduardo said. He fought to keep his anger against Massú from showing. “He’s the one who arrived at the basilica after the bombing had occurred.”

  “If Eduardo had not seen the man who detonated the bombs, I would suspect Massú himself had done it,” Nikki said.

  “Don’t believe Massú,” Eduardo added. “He might be casting blame on Paula to cover up for himself.”

  Chapter Forty-Six

  Barcelona—Majestic Hotel

  Wednesday Early Evening

  Nikki and Eduardo were settled on the sofa in Floyd’s suite, waiting for Javier to arrive. Nikki disliked the Interpol agent, but she sat there thinking she had to be fair. After all, he had been as forthcoming with information as he could be. In fact, he should not have shared any information with them. But then he had gained intel from their breaking into El Saraway’s suite.

  Floyd opened the door for Javier. He greeted everyone and turned to Floyd to ask about Milena. Floyd explained Milena was with him, but since she’d never visited Barcelona before, she was taking advantage by going on every city tour she could.