A Darker Night

by P J Brooke

  Max worked flat out for the next two hours assessing and summarizing the reports from Guillermo and the other technical services. He remembered Abbot Jorge’s words: ‘Don’t let the police sweep Paco’s death under the carpet just because he’s a gypsy ex-con.’

  There was no chance of that now.

  Max and Belén arrived at Davila’s office on the dot of eleven.

  ‘So, what have you got, Max?’ said Davila.

  ‘The dead man’s name was Francisco Javier Maya Fuentes, known as Paco Maya. He’d been released from jail on Wednesday, first of April, a few days early, after serving a sentence for the murder of his wife Lucía Espinosa.’

  Max paused. ‘Time of death. The body was found by a Francisco Gómez who claimed he got there about ten minutes before I and my English friend, Belinda Grove, arrived on the scene at 2 p.m. Ernesto and Roberto were there at two-twenty. Forensics took the body temperature at exactly two-thirty and their calculations, taking into account the dead man’s weight, clothing and medical history, the floor temperature, air temperature and air flow in the cave, and all other relevant factors, put the time of death at a maximum of an hour and a half, and a minimum of thirty minutes, before Forensics started work.’

  ‘So that puts the time of death between 1 and 2 p.m.?’ asked Davila.

  ‘Sí.’

  ‘And you checked vital signs at 2 p.m. and he was already dead when you found him?’

  ‘Sí.’

  ‘Was the man dead when Francisco Gómez found him?’

  ‘Gómez stated that he tried to resuscitate him, but without success.’

  ‘And the cause of death?’

  ‘A heart attack. This is consistent with the prison’s report of heart disease. The liver showed signs of damage, probably due to alcohol abuse. There was evidence of past use of cocaine and heroin, but nothing recent. So we can rule out a heart attack provoked by recent substance abuse.’

  ‘But if someone has a heart condition, then a fatal heart attack can occur at any time, can’t it?’ said Davila. ‘And he may have had the heart attack some hours before he died.’

  ‘That’s true, sir. And his heart condition was chronic. But the autopsy did uncover some interesting facts. First, there was bruising on his wrists consistent with being tied with string or thin rope. Also, there were marks on the inside of his arms consistent with, say, having his hands tied behind the back of a chair.’

  ‘But we found nothing which could have been used as a restraint, and the chair inside the cave had fallen over, consistent with, as you put it, the deceased collapsing with a heart attack,’ interrupted Navarro.

  ‘True, we didn’t find any rope or anything similar. Francisco Gómez had a bit of string in his pocket, but not enough for this job. And I’ll come to the chair later.’

  ‘Right,’ said Davila. ‘Some signs of foul play, but this could have happened some time before death.’

  ‘Not quite, sir. Guillermo’s report states that the colour of the bruising implies that the deceased was restrained shortly before death, but that could be minutes or hours. He also comments that the heart attack could have occurred immediately before death, or a couple of hours earlier.’

  ‘And we do have Asesino splashed on the outside cave wall,’ added Roberto Belén.

  ‘That could have been painted weeks ago,’ said Navarro.

  ‘No,’ said Max. ‘The deceased’s neighbour, Concepción Cortez, stated that it wasn’t there a week ago. She also said that, in her opinion, it was painted by some relation of Maya’s wife, probably her brothers Gregorio or Mauricio.’

  ‘They haven’t been picked up yet, have they?’ asked Davila.

  ‘No, sir,’ said Navarro.

  ‘Right,’ said Max. ‘Fingerprints – mostly they were of the dead man, Paco Maya, and Concepción Cortez, the neighbour who had helped him clean the cave. We haven’t been able to get any distinct fingerprints from the guitar or chair, not even those of the deceased, which is a bit odd. Both could have been wiped clean. There were fingerprints matching those of Francisco Gómez, both on the crucifix around Paco Maya’s neck and on the wooden box we brought in for investigation. I’ve been through Gómez’s statement, and he claims he didn’t touch anything. He was beside the body when I entered the cave, attempting resuscitation, so he could easily have touched the crucifix then.’

  ‘Maybe. But the print on the box? Is there anything missing from it?’

  ‘Probablemente,’ said Max. ‘When I spoke to Señora Cortez, she said that the box held title deeds to Maya’s land and cave. But it was empty when we examined it.’

  ‘So Francisco Gómez could be in the frame for this one,’ said Navarro, looking cheerful. ‘A robbery goes wrong, then he pulls the old first-aid trick when the cops show up.’

  ‘A useful working hypothesis, Inspector,’ said Davila.

  ‘I’m not sure,’ said Max. ‘The incident which may have led to the death could have been several hours before the victim actually died, and the timing’s a bit tight for the assailant to have been Gómez, as he states he can account for his movements for most of the day, except for about ten minutes before I arrived on the scene.’

  Davila sighed. ‘Give us the details then.’

  Max checked his notes. ‘According to Gómez’s statement, he set off to walk to the monastery from Sacromonte at about eleven-thirty with a friend, Steven Gaviero. The friend was with him all the time until they got to the monastery of Jesús del Valle.’

  ‘Is this substantiated?’

  ‘Gaviero confirms this, and states that he continued walking, in the direction of Dudar, on the old track.’

  ‘I see.’

  ‘Francisco Gómez remained at the monastery on his own for a few minutes. We then have six witnesses, including myself, who confirm he was at the monastery of Jesús del Valle between one and one-ten. At around one-ten, Gómez set off to return to Sacromonte. The security guard at the Cortijo de los Angeles saw him at the entrance at one-thirty walking in the direction of Sacromonte, and then the dogs chased him away from the back of the cortijo about ten minutes later.’

  ‘I’m not convinced, but go on.’

  ‘Well, sir, we also have evidence of quite a lot of activity close to the cave.’

  ‘Such as?’

  ‘The footprints near the house were indistinct, but we have photos of tyre marks at the bottom of the track. We have two sets of photos, one from the Policía Científica, and the other I took using a friend’s camera.’

  ‘A friend?’ queried Davila.

  ‘Yes. Belinda Grove. The one who heard the dog. The judge asked me to take some photos of tyre marks, which had been overlooked. But there’s something strange about these photos,’ continued Max. ‘The pictures I took on my friend’s camera included tyre marks from a larger vehicle, possibly a 4×4. But I don’t see that image in the prints we got back from the lab.’

  ‘Shouldn’t worry about that,’ said Davila. ‘It wouldn’t be the first time that our lab mislaid a photo. But let’s press on, or we’ll be here all day.’

  ‘I have the vet’s report on the dog. Judging from the bruises, the vet says it was kicked less than twenty-four hours before our arrival.’

  ‘It must have got a kicking from Maya,’ said Navarro.

  ‘But everyone says Paco Maya loved his dog,’ said Max.

  ‘That doesn’t mean a thing. I love my wife dearly but there’s many a time I feel like kicking her,’ said Davila, smiling.

  Everyone laughed politely.

  ‘Bien,’ continued Max. ‘I have here the report on the location of everything inside the cave. A couple of things strike me. First, the guitar – it was lying face down on a bare concrete floor. That doesn’t sound right to me. Hand-crafted flamenco guitars are delicate; no professional musician would maltreat his instrument. Second, the chair was too far away from the corpse for the deceased to have fallen there following a heart attack.’

  ‘Well,’ mused Davila, ‘folks g
et clumsy when they’ve had a drink or two or something, so the guitar face down probably means nothing.’

  ‘That’s true,’ said Max. ‘But the autopsy showed no evidence for recent consumption of drink or drugs.’

  ‘So that’s everything?’ asked Davila.

  ‘Not quite. The lab boys say that the ash which I handed over to Inspector Navarro is from a cigarette. I could have sworn it was cigar ash.’

  ‘It wouldn’t be the first time you were wrong,’ commented Navarro.

  ‘Let’s get on with it. Anyone else in the frame?’ said Davila.

  ‘The dead man’s neighbour said he had previously been threatened by his late wife’s brothers, Gregorio and Mauricio Espinosa.’

  ‘Conclusiones?’

  ‘Okay. The cause of death was a heart attack, but we have the bruising, the injury to the dog, and the missing documents. Plus the Asesino graffiti, and we have a reliable witness who claims the deceased was threatened by the Espinosa brothers.’

  ‘Your point?’ questioned Davila.

  ‘Given what we know about our man’s state of health, we could probably discount one or two of these facts, but taking them together we have to recommend that further investigation is needed, with foul play probably involved.’

  ‘Look,’ said Davila, ‘we’re overstretched. We can’t afford to waste time on an old lag’s heart attack. It’s up to the judge of course, but I recommend we send him a bland report … on the one hand, on the other … and forget some of the details.’

  ‘But sir, we don’t have much choice,’ said Navarro. ‘The judge had a damn good poke around the site and said he wanted a thorough investigation. He’s bound to follow up any inconsistencies. We’d best keep him happy.’

  ‘I see. What about suspects?’ asked Davila.

  ‘My money’s on the two brothers, Gregorio and Mauricio Espinosa,’ replied Max. ‘Why did they run away when I went to speak to them? We could be dealing with a revenge killing.’

  ‘That’s too obvious. I know the brothers made a fool of you, Max, but any dodgy gitano’s going to scarper when a cop turns up. If there has been any foul play, then the finger points at Gómez,’ said Davila. ‘And he’s already got form.’

  ‘But that’s just for trespass and destroying private property during a demo last year. It’s not in the same league as murder,’ said Max.

  ‘Maybe, but one thing can lead to another,’ said Davila. ‘Our priority is to check up on Francisco Gómez.’

  ‘But sir, he has no motive.’

  ‘Shouldn’t we at least pick up the Espinosa brothers for assault, and question them?’ asked Roberto Belén. ‘They have a clear motive. And if we don’t, the judge will wonder why.’

  ‘All right. We’ll put out a general alert for the brothers. They’ve got form, and we have mugshots on file, so someone should spot them sooner or later. There’s not much more we can do, is there?’ said Davila. Navarro shrugged his shoulders. ‘Max, I have to leave for another meeting. Could you do a report? I’ll look at it before sending it to the judge. Emphasize the weak heart.’

  ‘Yes, sir,’ said Max. And Davila swept out of the door.

  Navarro looked at Max and Roberto. ‘That’s clear. Concentrate on Francisco Gómez once you’ve finished with this nonsense on that stupid conference. If it were up to me, I’d kick all these bloody lefties out of Granada.’

  ‘But sir,’ said Roberto, ‘the judge commented on the graffiti. It wouldn’t look good if we made no effort to bring in the brothers.’

  ‘But we’ve no idea where they might be.’

  ‘Two sources said they are probably holed up in Nerja.’

  ‘Drugs?’

  ‘Could be.’

  Navarro paused and frowned. ‘Okay. Roberto, you know the cops on the coast. Check if they’ve been sighted. And if they have, go and get the buggers, but don’t waste time. May as well keep this new judge sweet.’

  ‘Gracias, señor. We can go after the globalization meeting this afternoon.’

  Chapter 9

  Teeth cleaned, hair freshly brushed, Max knocked on the door of Comisario Principal Bonila’s office at precisely two in the afternoon.

  ‘Ah, Max. Dead on time. Draw up a chair and join us. I think you already know everyone here.’

  Max looked round the table. There was Comisario Felipe Chávez, General López from the Guardia Civil, Sub-Inspectora Julia Dahlia from the Media Office, Comisario Alejandro Naranjo from the Policía Local, and Teniente Patricio Grandes from the Mayor’s office.

  ‘I do, sir.’ said Max.

  Bonila continued. ‘We’re still waiting for Inspector Jefe Davila, always late of course. Help yourself to coffee, Max.’

  Max got a cup of coffee from the machine on the side table and chose a couple of pastries from the buffet. He sat down, sipped his black coffee, and waited. The pastries were from a posh caterer. They looked good, but tasted of nothing.

  A few minutes later, Inspector Jefe Enrique Davila appeared, bald head shining with the brilliantine he used to keep the remaining strands of hair in place.

  ‘Uhm … sorry to be late. I got held up in the traffic.’

  ‘I see,’ said Bonila, not offering Davila a coffee.

  ‘You all know why we are here,’ he continued. ‘I’ve requested a joint approach to this Anti-Globalization conference and demonstration.’

  ‘Sí,’ added Comisario Naranjo. ‘As far as we can tell, it’s a much smaller event than the one in Genoa, but we can’t be too careful. And as it’s Easter, the Policía Local are stretched to their limit.’

  ‘I agree,’ said Bonila. ‘We can’t be too careful. So we need to ensure good coordination and communication between the three forces. My people in the Policía Nacional will be in charge of the demonstration. The Guardia Civil will be on duty around our monuments. The Policía Local will be busy with the extra traffic and the Easter processions, but they will help if needed.’

  Everyone round the table nodded in agreement.

  ‘And as it’s Easter the town is full of tourists,’ added Teniente Grandes. ‘The Alcalde has asked me to insist that we all be ultra-sensitive. After the terrorist incident last year, Granada can’t afford any bad publicity.’

  ‘I agree,’ said General López. ‘But if they think we are weak, they’ll just take the piss. We have to show who’s in charge.’

  ‘But softly, softly at first, General,’ said Bonila. ‘Sub-Inspectora Dahlia has prepared a press statement saying that Granada and its police forces welcome this conference, but participants have to abide by the regulations established, and any transgressions will be dealt with accordingly.’

  ‘Yes,’ said Julia Dahlia. ‘The statement will be going out later today.’

  ‘And I asked Max here to check the Anti-Globalization websites. Max, what did you find?’

  ‘There’s a lot out there.’ said Max. ‘The Anti-Globalization Movement is an umbrella organization of all the groups opposed to the present trends of globalization. It’s worldwide, but the movement is strongest in Latin America and Europe. The conference in Granada is a meeting of the European section. But speakers have been invited from all over the world.’

  ‘Can someone explain to me in words of one syllable what this … uhm … Anti-Globalization is all about?’ asked Davila.

  Bonila nodded at Max.

  ‘Well, basically they are concerned about unregulated free markets allowing big multinational companies and banks to rip off the poor, oppress women and destroy the environment.’

  ‘I see,’ said Davila. ‘Or rather I don’t, but there we go.’

  ‘So, they are just a bunch of tree-huggers and bra-burners,’ said López. ‘I don’t see them being much trouble.’

  Julia Dahlia stared at López incredulously.

  ‘Most will be no trouble.’ said Max. ‘But the Maoists, the Trotskyites and the Anarchists will be looking for a fight. So it’s important that these groups are isolated, and that they don’t drag in
others.’

  ‘Thank you, Max.’ said Bonila. ‘Our problem is we may have to defend ourselves. And the whole thing could escalate.’

  ‘Sí,’ agreed Chávez. ‘In my experience, these violent groups are usually put at the back of any demonstration. We need to separate them from the mass of the demonstrators.’

  ‘But what happens if the troublemakers are scattered among the main group?’ asked General López.

  ‘That’s always a possibility,’ said Chávez.

  ‘If there aren’t many of them, maybe we could send in snatch squads,’ suggested Teniente Grandes.

  ‘That could just make things worse. But it may come to it,’ said Bonila.

  Julia Dahlia coughed, and turned to Bonila. ‘There is the additional problem of the monastery of Jesús del Valle, and the roads issue.’

  ‘Yes,’ said Bonila. ‘I was coming to that. The Alcalde and the Archbishop are issuing a press statement later today announcing the sale of buildings and land situated in Jesús del Valle to a private developer for conversion into an eco-hotel.’

  ‘An eco-hotel?’ said Max.

  ‘Yes, precisely that. An environmentally sound hotel complex. The press somehow found out about this, so the Archbishop and the Alcalde agreed to an early briefing. Teniente Grandes has all the details.’

  ‘Sí,’ said Grandes. ‘The proposed development has the best wishes of Archbishop Doria, and Mayor Olmedo will steer it through the planning process. This is a sensible proposal. The Church gets rid of an unsafe and dangerous building, and the city badly needs more top-quality hotel accommodation, so everybody gains.’

  ‘Do we know who the new owner is?’ asked Max.

  ‘The owner wishes his identity to remain private,’ responded Grandes.

  ‘Why?’ asked Max.

  ‘His right, is it not?’

  ‘I suppose so. But how does this affect our plans for the conference and demonstration?’

  ‘Some idiot leaked the Jesús del Valle proposals to that loony environmentalist, Francisco Gómez.’

  ‘Oh,’ said Max. ‘He’s one of the key speakers at the conference. That means …’