Revenge in Barcelona

by Kathryn Lane

  Javier’s accent and eye tics intensified Nikki’s dislike of his demeanor. His accent sounded artificial to her, part of the reason he seemed so fake.

  “I was looking forward to meeting her, but we work now.” Javier sat on the easy chair closest to him.

  Floyd plopped down heavily on the other chair.

  “This meeting is update on bombing. My friend Rafael,” Javier paused. “GEO Agent González, apprehended Sonia Ussam and Fernando Massú at airport. We believe they hired African. He’s Nigerian. Bad guy. Very bad.”

  Nikki reached out to touch Eduardo.

  “Rafael not sure how many others involved, but he thinks Nigerian, Sonia, and Massú collaborated,” Javier said. He added that Rafael got Massú to talk by fabricating a story that Sonia had planned to get rid of her father in a year or so after the Sagrada Família bombing was no longer a top headline. She intended to inherit all the Massú holdings.

  “Give us more details,” Floyd said.

  “Data too preliminary. Cannot disclose,” Javier responded.

  Nikki asked about Paula in a very hesitant manner. She wanted to know if her cousin and Fadi had participated in the plot. She turned to Eduardo and asked him to give Javier the letter Paula had written to her mother.

  Javier read the letter and told them Rafael already knew this information. “But on Paula’s innocence, very hard to tell if Paula and Fadi involved. My guess no. Could be paternity issue. Parkinson’s tests show Sonia is Massú daughter, but Fadi not his. Sonia has financial motivation to kill Fadi. She one smart woman with Machiavellian spirit.”

  Javier’s words silenced everyone in the room.

  Nikki shivered thinking of the lives lost in the bombing. Could it all have been the consequence of one woman’s greed?

  “What about Nikki’s safety?” Eduardo asked. “Someone is trying to hurt her too.”

  “Maybe both of you,” Floyd said, adding to Eduardo’s remark. He turned toward Javier. “You know the Nigerian was tailing them yesterday. And could have killed them if it had not been for that Rom fortune teller.”

  “Were the Rom women undercover agents?” Eduardo asked.

  “Cannot say. That woman also responsible for apprehension of bad guy,” Javier said. “I think Nikki safe from harm now all of them under arrest.” He informed them he had ordered a review of CCTV footage from the front side of the Burgos museum. It showed a bearded man with a baseball cap standing behind Nikki and some children. “He pushed Nikki into bad fall, and walked away.”

  Nikki turned white. “I thought that was an accident. Even the teacher who kept me from falling into oncoming traffic had the boys apologize to me.” She had not been vigilant enough and determined she’d return to her usual watchful self.

  Everyone in the room spoke at the same time, each saying how lucky Nikki had been. Javier’s eyebrows kept jumping up and down his forehead as he repeated he thought Nikki was safe now that the African had been apprehended.

  “I’m so thankful!” Nikki said, standing up. “That means Eduardo and I can visit another Gaudí monument before we leave.”

  “Not so fast,” Eduardo said. “What about El Saraway?”

  “Not sure where Egyptian is hiding, but police looking for him,” Javier said. “Don’t know his involvement. Agents know area of city where he might be hiding. He cannot pull nonsense. He hears news, so he knows others already jailed.”

  “He will probably run, but until we know for sure, Nikki, we’re going to stay right here,” Eduardo said with authority. “We need to know who’s been trying to kill you.”

  “I’ve felt confined to mostly the hotel. A bit in the hospital or Carmen’s condo. With things getting settled, I’d like to visit a place called Bellesguard,” she said. “We’ll be leaving Barcelona soon, so I want to visit this Gaudí site. It’s not so grand but comes with plenty of history, like all his buildings.”

  “Confined to a hotel?” Javier asked. His eyebrows darted upward. He glanced at Floyd. “Isn’t that what newlyweds want?”

  Floyd grinned. As he turned serious again, he asked Javier if El Saraway’s background had been uncovered or if a connection had been established between the Egyptian and Cristóbal Arenas.

  “Cannot say,” Javier said.

  “Bellesguard Tower,” Nikki repeated as if no one had heard her, “is waiting for us. We can see nearby Palau Reial de Pedralbes where Gaudí left his style when he remodeled the place. Both are near Tibidabo.”

  Javier suggested taking a bus or taxi to the top of Tibidabo, adding that it was the prettiest view of Barcelona, where the entire city could be seen, including Passeig de Gràcia.

  “Or you can take the funicular to the top,” Floyd said.

  “Funicular?” Eduardo’s voice became animated. “Nikki, let’s do it.”

  “I don’t know,” she said, remembering her dislike of heights.

  “Funicular built on ground, all way up mountain,” Javier said. “Takes you to Sagrat Cor de Jesús. In English, Sacred Heart of Jesus. Better known as Temple of Tibidabo.”

  Nikki turned to glance at Eduardo and then Floyd. Her solemn expression gave way to a faint smile. “I’ll decide about the funicular tomorrow. Bellesguard Tower may take all our time.”

  “Bellesguard good idea to visit,” Javier said. “For beauty of location. For history. Last monarch of House of Barcelona, Martín I the Humane, built palace there in fifteenth century. Palace now in ruins, near house Gaudí built. Plus contains history of bandolero Serrallonga.”

  “Javier, you’re as bad as Nikki on this Gaudí stuff,” Floyd said.

  “Who is Serrallonga?” Nikki asked.

  “Bandit who stole from royal caravans passing through Barcelona and gave goods to peasants and farmers. Joan de Serrallonga very popular with poor people. Was executed in 1634.”

  “Sounds like Robin Hood,” Floyd said.

  “Robin Hood at least a century before Serrallonga,” Javier said.

  “Be careful,” Floyd admonished. “I don’t like the fact El Saraway is still on the loose.”

  Eduardo suggested another option for the following morning. After checking on Carmen, they could take Floyd and Milena to visit the Gothic Quarter to show them the Bishop’s Bridge. Floyd could find a place for luncheon tapas. He invited Javier to join them.

  “Tapas are for eating at night. Paella is tradition for lunch in Barcelona,” Javier said as he shook his head and appeared confused by the banter.

  “I forgot about the skull and dagger,” Nikki said. “If they see it, we need to take Floyd and Milena to the antidote too.” She reached for her world tree necklace and held it up for Floyd to see. “This is my cure. It protects me from all evil.”

  Floyd laughed. “You really are superstitious, Nikki.” Then turning serious, he looked at Javier. “What do you think? Will they be safe doing the touristy thing tomorrow?”

  “El Saraway probably running scared,” Javier said. “I think Nikki okay playing tourist. But always be cautious. I know Rafael ordered police to follow Egyptian in area where he is hiding out.”

  “That does it. I have Javier’s permission, so Bellesguard and Tibidabo, watch out. Here we come!” Nikki said.

  “Eduardo, be sure you call me if emergency happen,” Javier said. “Also, I invite all of you to good tapa bar tomorrow night after Tibidabo. Floyd, please bring Milena.”

  Chapter Forty-Seven

  Barcelona—SARRIÀ-Tibidabo District

  Thursday Early Afternoon of Third Week

  “I really loved Bellesguard. I’m so glad we went there,” Nikki said to Eduardo as she stopped for a look at the rail tracks heading straight up the hill to Tibidabo. “I think I can do the funicular just fine.”

  She and Eduardo stepped in the line to purchase tickets from a young woman sitting behind a thick bulletproof transaction window, like the ones banks use to protect their tellers from armed robberies.

  After purchasing their tickets, they walked up the stairs a
nd boarded the blue and yellow car. Once the car closed its doors, Nikki realized how many children and teenagers had also boarded. Each of them was either laughing or talking loud enough to be heard over the din of voices and the clangor of wheels against the train tracks. The earsplitting noise became more deafening than a rock concert. She hung her purse strap over her neck and shoulder and moved toward the front of the cabin to look out the windows. Eduardo followed her. On each side of the tracks she noticed the vegetation and was surprised to see a diverse assortment of cacti—prickly pear, century plants, and dragon trees.

  “Look at the prickly pear out there. And the century plants,” Nikki said. She leaned toward Eduardo’s ear and spoke loudly so he could hear her over the cacophony.

  The funicular slowed down as it approached the small station at the top and then came to a complete stop. When Nikki and Eduardo stepped off and climbed a few steps, they halted to observe their surroundings. They watched as teens ran toward an old-fashioned amusement park, yelling their preferences for the ride they wanted. Parents trying to become oriented to the immediate area held the hands of younger children before they headed for the park. One little boy dressed in a blue outfit fell as he ran. His mother scolded him for getting his clothes dirty as she yanked him up from the ground.

  “Poor kid,” Eduardo said. “His mother is more interested in keeping him clean than letting him have fun.”

  Nikki gazed through the arches of a salmon colored building to the left side of the park that offered places to eat, public restrooms, and gift shops. Still taking the landscape in, her eyes settled on the imposing façade of Sagrat Cor de Jesús rising from the top of the mountain like a lion protecting its territory. As she admired the details of the church, Eduardo seemed engaged in catching a last glimpse of the kids heading toward the park entrance.

  “Nikki, I know I’m overly cautious, but turn slowly and take a look at the two men leaving the funicular station. What do they look like?”

  “A couple of grandfathers trailing behind,” she responded as she noticed two stragglers who appeared to be dawdling at the view of the city below.

  “Grandfathers? They’re not that old. They’re about our age. I thought they might be Middle Eastern.”

  “They seem Latin to me,” she said. “Do you think we should be concerned?”

  “Not really, but as Javier said, we need to be cautious. That’s all.”

  Nikki reached into the secret compartment of her purse to make certain she had her Taser. Her fingers wrapped around it. “We’re safe. And while we’re here, I’d like to see the interior of Sagrat Cor. Shall we see if it’s open?”

  “I doubt you’ll like it,” Eduardo said as he put his hand on Nikki’s shoulder to guide her toward the church.

  Nikki shot Eduardo an inquisitive glance.

  “You love Gaudí’s architecture so much, this won’t be as interesting,” he said.

  “Agreed. Gaudí is extraordinary. Plus the history. But we should still see the church here. People always compare it to Montmartre’s Sacré Coeur in Paris.”

  “When we leave, would you mind walking down to Avinguda Tibidabo?” Eduardo asked. “It’s steep but there are beautiful old homes. Carlos Ruiz Zafón mentions the Aldaya mansion in my favorite book by him. It’s at 32 Tibidabo.”

  “That’s at the bottom of the hill,” Nikki said. “But it’d be a nice walk.”

  Chapter Forty-Eight

  Barcelona—Tibidabo District

  Thursday Early Afternoon

  “We’re following the black Mercedes coupe. It’s heading to the top of Tibidabo.” Rafael spoke to Alberto over his phone as Pepe, one of the other GEO agents, drove the unmarked car they were riding in. “We’re on Avinguda de Vallvidrera, a safe distance from the subject. He’s obviously after Ms. Garcia and her husband. You met the couple at Carmen Cardoso Azar’s condo. They are supposed to be visiting Tibidabo today.”

  Rafael looked out the windshield and saw a pink roller-coaster track on the side of the mountain. He continued talking, giving details to Alberto about the guy they were tailing. “The Mercedes has a driver and one passenger. I presume it’s El Saraway. But a gray Nissan sedan with two more people is following the Mercedes.”

  Rafael asked for Alberto’s location. He then instructed his subordinate to drive up Carretera de Sant Cugat, the shorter route to the top, and park at the lot near the funicular station. “From your position, you should get there before we do. Walk toward the parking lot behind the church. Try to get there to identify the subject’s two vehicle convoy. Follow them if they leave their vehicles.”

  When his subordinate asked if the Nissan was stalking the Mercedes, Rafael replied that he thought the cars were together, not antagonistic toward each other. He gave Alberto the license plate number of the second car.

  Pepe slowed down as they approached the curve near Gran Hotel la Florida so that neither driver would suspect they had a tail.

  Rafael made another call, to the police supervisor whose officers were assigned to provide backup. “Be ready to surround the perimeter of Tibidabo Temple and the amusement park. Spread your men out, but don’t come in too close yet. I don’t want to scare our subject away. Let me remind you we can’t let him harm a foreign couple, a man late thirties and a woman, midthirties, he seems to be following.”

  Rafael asked Pepe to allow El Saraway’s motorcade time to park and the passengers to step out. “I want to see what they’re planning. My guess is they will go into the church or the museum.”

  “Or even a restaurant at this time of day,” the driver said.

  “The hard part for us is to look like tourists,” Rafael said.

  “We could be hikers. I have my gym clothes in the luggage compartment. You can even wear the clean set. I’ll wear yesterday’s.” Pepe chuckled as he spoke.

  “Good idea. Stop and let’s change.”

  “Collserola is a big park. Isn’t that why you requested police backup?” Pepe asked as he steered the car into the parking area of the nursing home facility, Llar d’Avis Nostra Senyora de Fátima. Trees delineating the facility’s property kept their vehicle hidden from the lot which faced the rear of the Tibidabo Temple complex, the lot where El Saraway and his men had parked.

  Pepe got out, popped the luggage compartment, and removed his gym bag.

  After changing into shorts and a sweatshirt, Rafael got out of the car. He adjusted the sweatshirt over the gun and the bullet proof vest. He weaved between bushes of sweet-smelling honeysuckle to hide behind the trunk of an Aleppo pine, surrounded by smaller evergreens and a deciduous oak. The air smelled pure. Yet he knew it would not take long before his allergies would awaken, and his sinuses would activate. Preferring to remain hidden, he peered through the branches to monitor the group’s activities. Both cars had parked, and he observed the occupants ease out of their vehicles. El Saraway and his driver took the easy route by crossing Avinguda Vallvidrera and headed toward the church while the two in the second car disappeared into the wooded area.

  Rafael called the police supervisor again to describe the subject’s position.

  Pepe left the gym bag on the back seat but pulled his handgun and tucked it into the small of his back. Like Rafael, he let the sweatshirt hang over his shorts to cover the gun and vest. He locked the car and positioned himself a few feet behind his boss.

  Chapter Forty-Nine

  Barcelona—Tibidabo Temple

  Thursday Early Afternoon of Third Week

  Nikki and Eduardo admired the view of the entire complex, first taking in the lower structure called the crypt church even though it was a stand-alone construction. Built from rough-hewn Montjuïc stone to resemble a Romanesque fortress, it had been the initial construction and formed the smaller section of the Sagrat Cor de Jesús complex. They saw the stairs on both sides of the lower church soaring upward, climbing the hill to the upper church whose dome was capped with a Christ figure extending its arms as if to embrace the entire city o
f Barcelona, stretching out in the valley below.

  “Christ’s open arms seem to hug everything all the way to the port. Including the Mediterranean,” Nikki said.

  “Could have been the sculptor’s intention,” Eduardo said. “He may have also wanted to echo the embrace of the Christ figure on Corcovado Mountain in Rio across the Atlantic.”

  “They do look pretty similar,” Nikki admitted. She turned back toward the city to enjoy the view. “Javier told us yesterday we could see Passeig de Gràcia if we looked closely at the city streets.”

  First they located the familiar Sagrada Família towers in the distance and spent several minutes trying to find Passeig de Gràcia without success. Nikki’s memories of Sagrada Família would always be bittersweet. A breathtaking monument designed by the architect she loved so much, yet it’s where Paula had died.

  “It’s a unique structure,” Eduardo said. “Remember what Tía Carmen told us about keeping the good memories.”

  “Passeig de Gràcia is also where we encountered El Saraway. Not a pleasant memory.” She looked both nostalgic and sad as she turned toward the crypt church again. “But I still love Barcelona.”

  “Doesn’t Casa Milà bring you good memories?” Eduardo asked.

  Nikki glanced at him. “For sure. I will never forget the feeling of wonder and love when we said our vows on our favorite rooftop in the world.”

  Filled with emotion, Nikki turned toward the crypt church again to avoid becoming sentimental. She grabbed Eduardo’s hand and they walked to the crypt’s main doors. From where they stood now, the walls of the lower church obstructed the view of the upper church. Still feeling melancholy, Nikki stopped to study the crypt’s ornate entrance with its three semicircular arches. Above the arches, a richly decorated semicircle with inlaid mosaic brought the entire façade into a unified design.