‘People were kind after Sam’s death; they provided company when I needed it, invited me to their parties. At one, I met Neil. That he was there was a surprise since it was not a flashy party; that he didn’t just nod the introduction and dismiss me from his mind surprised me even more. He chose to sit next to me for the meal and afterwards quietly, sympathetically asked me how I was getting on.
‘I may have had a little too much to drink because it was one of my down days and I needed soft useless sympathy. I told him I was going to have to return home, how I dreaded the coming weather, isolation, and indifference of others. He asked me why I had decided to return. Normally, I’d have given a neutral answer, but I told him why. He sympathised and said I’d be sure to find a way to stay on the island. A traditional assurance, meant to soothe, but always irritating.
‘The next Tuesday, he called at my place, handed me a sealed envelope, said he couldn’t stay but hoped we’d meet again soon. In the envelope was a receipt for my overdue mortgage repayment. Soon afterwards, he said he hoped I’d go with him to the newly-opened restaurant in Soller. I wanted to know why he’d paid the mortgage debt. He said he gained more pleasure from using his money to help people than anything he could buy. Not being naive, I decided I’d rather eat here, on my own.
‘He again asked me out to lunch and named that restaurant in Soller. Someone had told me she’d eaten there and the meal had been superb. I always find it difficult to refuse champagne. We had a great meal, he drove me back here, hoped I’d enjoyed the break and left. He asked me out a couple more times, for dinner. The routine each time was the same, a delicious meal, amusing talk, a cheek-kiss goodbye.
‘It’s easy to say what happened next, difficult to explain. He asked me to dinner at Vista Bonita; his cook was a culinary genius, the meal would be better than we could have at any restaurant. We ate, drank, ended up in bed, despite all Frank’s warnings.’ She looked quickly at him. ‘And now you’re thinking my marriage couldn’t have been so perfect when I didn’t bother about dishonouring it.’
‘Death draws an impenetrable line.’
‘Many ex-pats would disagree.’
‘I often disagree with their values.’
‘You may dislike me for saying this, but you’re a very unusual policeman.’
‘I accept that as a compliment.’
‘You don’t resemble Sam in any particular way, yet you make me think of him.’
A comparison of great worth. ‘Señora, I hope I have not distressed you?’
‘You may even have helped.’
‘I hope that proves to be so.’ He stood. ‘I must leave.’
‘Before another drink?’
As he drove away, he remembered Juana-María with greater clarity than usual. It was as if another’s acceptance of death had increased his sense of loss.
FIFTEEN
‘I have questioned Señora Arcton, señor,’ Alvarez said, receiver to his ear.
‘To what effect?’ Salas asked.
‘She admits she had an affair with Señor Picare, however unlikely.’
‘I am surprised you consider any relationship unlikely.’
‘She is not beautiful and he usually chose those who were more obviously attractive. I think it’s the señora’s qualities which attracted him.’
‘Perhaps it was her readiness to forget she had been married that attracted him?’
‘Her compassion, sympathy, understanding—’
‘Complete your report without searching for emotions which could not more contradict the facts.’
‘It’s not that straightforward. She suffered financial troubles and could not meet her mortgage repayments so was in danger of having her flat repossessed. Picare never said what he was going to do, but one day handed her a receipt for the overdue mortgage repayment. When she asked him why he had done that, he said he liked to use his money to help people.’
‘Nothing could be more straightforward. She well understood his motive and behaved like a puta.’
‘Never.’
‘What name do you use to describe a woman who sells her body?’
‘A puta sells herself to anyone who’ll pay.’
‘The number of customers is immaterial, the relationship between action and money is. She related her financial problems in order to engage his interest in what she had to offer.’
‘Señor, she attracted his interested sympathy without artifice. If you question her, you will discover her captivating character.’
‘You suggest I meet this woman in order to judge her to be of the nature you contend rather than the one she clearly is?’
‘I think you would find—’
‘I have no intention of searching. Did you gain any information from her which could be termed material?’
‘She knows someone and he advised her against a friendship with Señor Picare. That might have been a quiet warning or a product of jealousy.’
‘I will not waste time asking you for your judgment, whether you have yet questioned this man or if you know his name.’
‘Frank.’
‘Frank who?’
‘I’ve only heard the señora refer to him by his Christian name.’
‘And you did not think to demand his surname and address?’
‘I very much doubt she will accept a demand. She will only give me the details if persuaded.’
‘Persuade her.’
‘It might be better if someone else did that.’
‘Why?’
‘It could be called a conflict of interests.’
‘You are making even less sense than usual. You will question Frank to discover if he suffers from an amoral jealousy sufficient to consider him a suspect.’
‘Señor …’
‘Is Señora Dunkling of greater respectability?’
‘That, I suppose, depends on one’s point of view.’
‘Are you incapable of giving a straight answer?’
‘Señora Dunkling enjoys a ménage à trois.’
‘What!’
‘It is a situation in which a woman lives with two men or a man with—’
‘To my regret, I am aware of what the description means. My exclamation was expressing surprised shock that such immoral conduct should occur on this island.’
‘It is fairly common elsewhere.’
‘You have reason other than desire to make such assertion?’
‘I’ll question the two men to find out if there is a question of jealousy. That’s possible because one man might have exceeded his allowance.’
There was a silence.
‘Alvarez, it is very probable it would be an advantage for this investigation to be placed in other hands. However, I do not wish it to be widely known that such immorality exists in my area. You will question the husband.’
‘And the co-husband?’
‘You succeed in making a simple word sound offensive.’
The lift stopped, the door opened, Alvarez walked over to the door of the flat, rang the bell. This was opened by a woman of generous build who wore blouse and slacks. She regarded him with the hint of hostility Mallorquins often showed an unidentified visitor.
‘Are Señor and Señora Dunkling here?’ he asked in Mallorquin.
‘I can’t say.’
A typically evasive answer. Her accent marked her as a fellow Lluesan. If women were allowed to take part in the Festival of the Moors and Christians, she would no doubt have wielded a broom handle with sufficient force to make one or two ‘Moors’ unhappy.
‘I would like to speak to them.’
A man came into the hall. ‘Who is it, Juana?’ he asked in fractured Spanish.
Alvarez answered the question in English.
‘What brings you here, inspector?’
‘I have to investigate the unfortunate death of Señor Picare and you may be able to help me. You are Señor Dunkling?’
‘I am.’
‘May I enter?’
‘Sorry. D
o come in.’
The sitting room was crowded with bulky furniture. On each of the two tables were orchids in flower, held upright with wooden supports, in attractive ceramic bowls. There was a well-filled bookcase, an entertainment stand on which was a large TV and a DVD player, two heavily inlaid poufs, three armchairs and a settee. Another middle-aged man, also in shorts, T-shirt and sandals, sat on the settee; in one of the easy chairs was a woman whose upper contours of breasts were visible through the over-generous line of the neck of her frock.
‘Inspector Alvarez,’ Dunkling announced. ‘My wife, Giselle, and brother-in-law, Turner’ were introduced with a brief wave of the arm.
‘I suppose you’re here because of Neil?’ Turner said.
‘Yes, señor. I wish to learn what you can tell me about Señor Picare.’
Dunkling spoke first. ‘There’s very little we can say about him, inspector. We were invited to one or two of his parties, but that provided the few times we met.’
‘You were not firm friends?’
‘We lead a quiet life. Were that not from necessity, we might have been more favourably regarded.’
‘Nevertheless, you met the señor from time to time?’
‘Apart from the parties? In the village, perhaps, when it was a good morning, how are you and goodbye.’
‘My understanding is that generally speaking, he was not well liked.’
‘Money in the hands of someone who once had very little is regarded with suspicion since it is the reversal of a stable society.’
‘Would you think anyone had a more definite reason for disliking him?’
‘One imagines there must be husbands who do, unless they’re enfeebled.’
‘Perhaps a Spanish husband or boyfriend might have had reason to hate him?’
‘Everything is possible, but I reckon he would have avoided becoming involved with a Spanish lady. The reputation of a Spanish husband is that he still regards his wife’s virtue as his concern.’
‘You have knowledge of any husband Señor Picare might have cuckolded?’
‘“Cuckold”. A description which has almost become extinct despite the increased times when it could be used. Inspector, we were due to meet a friend at Bar Imperial some time ago. He will expect us to be late, but not so late as to be rude. We have told you all we know, so would it be all right if we bring things to an end?’
‘I shall want to have a word with the señora, but will return another time.’
‘I’d rather get it over with,’ she said.
‘What can you tell him I haven’t?’ Dunkling asked her. ‘And don’t forget, Harry and Charles will be there.’
‘You haven’t mentioned that before. A good reason for staying here.’
‘I’m damned if I know why you don’t like Charles.’
‘His hands have wandering instincts.’
‘A compliment.’
‘One I can happily forego.’
‘Then stay here and I will tell Charles how sorry you are at not being able to meet.’
Dunkling stood. ‘Don’t let the inspector browbeat you.’
The two men left. A moment later, it sounded as if the door had been shut with considerable force. An expression of annoyance or uneasiness? Alvarez wondered.
‘Señora—’
She interrupted him. ‘There’s really nothing to tell you.’
‘Even though you frequently visited Vista Bonita?’
‘Only from time to time.’
‘Was it not more frequently?’
‘No.’
‘Like most staff, those who worked for Señor Picare are curious. They have told me you were often there.’
‘If so, not for the reason you imagine.’
‘I am not imagining anything.’
‘Then you’ll have been told Neil tried to jump every woman who came within his reach? I was never within a casual reach. I’m a physiotherapist.’
‘You were exercising your professional skills?’
‘Rather than my amatory ones. Neil has … had a painful back. In the past, I’d helped some ex-pats with their problems, he heard about this and asked me to treat him. I managed to relieve some of the pain and restore good mobility.’
‘Did Señor Dunkling object to your treating him?’
‘No.’
‘He was not worried by Picare’s reputation?’
‘He is my husband.’
‘I am trying to ascertain the exact nature of Señor Picare’s death, so I must ask again, did the señor not object to your treating Señor Picare?’
‘At first, he seemed worried, but that didn’t last. It was Frank who made a bit of a fuss.’
‘Frank?’
‘Frank Macrone.’
‘Why should he object when your husband so obviously trusted you?’
‘He has the habit of leaping to the wrong conclusion, especially in matters which aren’t his concern. I always think of him as living in a black and white, not a coloured world.’
‘Did your husband ever suggest to him that he should not think ill of these visits?’
‘In the course of a vigorous row which ended up by clearing the air.’
‘Señora, I gained the impression that you and the señors were uneasy when you learned of my identity.’
She shrugged her shoulders. ‘Can’t comment except for myself. I wasn’t going to laugh when a detective wanted a word.’
‘You did not fear I was here because of something which did concern you?’
‘When I knew I had done nothing to warrant the police’s interest?’
There was a thump on the door and Turner entered. ‘You OK?’ he asked Giselle.
‘As yet, there is no sign of the thumbscrews.’
Alvarez said, ‘And will remain hidden, señor. Since I have learned all I need to know, I was about to thank Señora Dunkling and ask her to tell you I’d be grateful if you would come and have a word.’
She left. Alvarez suggested they sat. ‘Señor, as I may have said, I wish to learn more about Señor Picare’s life and how he was regarded by others. Did you like him?’
‘A tricky question. I’d say, he interested me,’ Turner replied.
‘I have spoken to several other people and none of them seemed to have found him interesting.’
‘We don’t all live in the same world. He used his wealth as a magnet, was ostentatious, careless about the grief he caused. Most people have a dark side and hypocritically try to hide this from themselves as well as others. He didn’t. That suggests a degree of courage.’
Or perverse pride, Alvarez thought to himself. ‘Did you sometimes accompany Giselle when she went to Vista Bonita?’
‘And show my trust was false or that Giselle’s husband didn’t trust her? The only time I’ve been there has been when we were invited to one of his parties and accepted for the same reason we condemn others – the chance briefly to enjoy luxury. But there was only that one time and since then we’ve had very little contact, especially as our friend Frank has reason to dislike him so much.’
‘Why the dislike?’
‘Neil tried to have a fling with Frank’s wife. Why d’you want to know?’
‘No specific reason, just the wish to learn all I can.’
‘I doubt there was much contact between the two of them.’
‘Do you know where Señor Macrone lives?’
‘Ca’n Macrone, in Mitjorn.’
Another example of foreigners’ egotism or ignorance in calling houses after their names rather than their nicknames.
‘For the record, I doubt Frank knows any more about Neil’s private life than I do. And I’d be grateful if this meeting could come to an end. I do have to go out.’
‘There are only one or two more questions to ask. Did you have reason to dislike Señor Picare?’
‘No.’
‘You were not jealous of his lifestyle?’
‘Did his money make me feel small? No. Did his potential destruction o
f marriages make me feel the moral duty to get rid of him? Like any sensible person, I leave others to fight their own battles.’
‘His friendship with Señora Dunkling did not distress her husband and you?’
‘Giselle didn’t like him any more than I did.’
‘Do you think she would agree with that? You are aware she often visited Vista Bonita on her own?’
‘And know why.’
The door opened, Giselle entered. ‘Are you finished?’
‘I am,’ Turner replied.
‘Then we’d better move.’
‘Señora,’ Alvarez said, ‘I should like another word with you.’
‘We’re already late for meeting our friends.’
‘I will not delay you for very long.’ Alvarez turned. ‘Señor, if you would like to leave us.’
‘I’m staying. You’re not going to have the chance to bully Giselle.’
‘I must repeat what I said earlier? I am reluctant to ask the señora to come with me to the post.’
‘In England, the police would never act like this.’
‘They would not offer the choice?’
‘You know what I mean.’
‘Don’t make a scene,’ she pleaded. ‘If I think I’m in any danger, I’ll shout loud and long.’
‘If you …’ Turner did not finish, left.
‘Señora,’ Alvarez said, ‘you may wish to tell the señor I questioned you about Frank. If it becomes necessary, I will confirm that.’
‘Why should I bother?’
‘You might find it preferable to explaining the true reason – that on several occasions you visited Señor Picare on your own when it was not to treat him.’
‘Do I look stupid?’
‘I will ask Señor Turner to return and hear my further questions so that he can corroborate your answers.’
‘He won’t believe what you’re trying to say.’
‘That may be. Alternatively, he may recall times when you said you wanted a break, to be on your own; that you’d go for a long walk, drive into Palma and visit the shops.’
‘What are you getting at?’
‘I do not think I need to answer. Let me ask you again. Did you ever visit Vista Bonita unless it was to help the señor with his back problem?’
‘What if I did?’
‘I suggest that on those days, unknown to your husband or brother, your intention was not to treat Señor Picare’s back.’
In Search of Murder--An Inspector Alvarez Mallorcan Mystery Page 12