There was a knock on the door, and one of his aides entered.
‘Yes, what is it?’ the general snapped irritably.
‘There’s a village woman outside, sir,’ the aide told him. ‘She says she has some important information.’
‘What kind of information?’
‘She wouldn’t say. She told me it was so important that it was for your ears alone.’
‘What can a peasant woman know which could be as important as that?’ the general demanded. ‘Send her to Major Gómez.’
‘Major Gómez is out in the sierra, sir.’
‘And what the hell’s he doing there?’
‘I believe he’s looking for the prisoner Ruiz.’
‘The prisoner Ruiz!’ the general said bitterly. ‘The bloody prisoner Ruiz. If I’d had him shot when my wife suggested it, we’d never have been in this mess now.’ He realized what he was almost admitting to. ‘Of course,’ he continued hastily, ‘if Colonel Valera had been doing his job properly, it wouldn’t have mattered a damn whether Ruiz was alive or not.’
‘Quite so,’ the aide agreed diplomatically. ‘What about the woman, my general? Will you see her?’
The general sighed. ‘Why not? I seem to have to do everybody else’s job around here – I might as well do Gómez’s.’
The aide ushered the woman into the room. She was around sixty, dressed in black, and obviously intimidated to be in the presence of such an important man.
‘My . . . my name is Rosa Sanchez, Your Excellency,’ she stuttered.
‘What of it?’ the general asked brusquely.
‘My daughter was Carmen . . . the seamstress . . . and . . . and. . . .’
‘I’m not interested in your family history.’
‘She . . . she was the one who was murdered yesterday.’
The general slammed his hand down on his desk. ‘Good God, don’t you know I’m fighting a war here, woman?’ he demanded. ‘I’ve no time to concern myself with individual deaths, even if they do turn out to be murder. Stop wasting my time and get out!’
For a moment, it looked as if Rosa Sanchez would faint with terror, then she bit her lip and pressed on. ‘The policeman from Madrid . . .’ she mumbled.
‘Ruiz?’
‘I don’t know his name. He . . . he gave me something for you.’
‘When was this?’
‘Last night. About an hour before all the explosions.’
For the first time, the general noticed the brown-paper package she was holding in her hands. ‘Is that what he gave you?’
‘Yes, Your Excellency.’
‘Then hand it over to me, woman.’
With trembling hands, Rosa Sanchez placed the package on the desk. The general picked it up and ripped it open. It contained a petticoat – a beautifully embroidered petticoat which must have cost a small fortune.
‘There’s . . . there’s a note as well,’ Rosa Sanchez told him. ‘The policeman said it would explain everything.’
But even without reading the note Paco had written, the general was already beginning to guess the truth. How could he fail to, when he was holding so much of it in his hands?
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Paco could feel Cindy’s body pressed against his. The bed was not really wide enough to be shared comfortably by two people who weren’t in love, but they were in love, and they thought it just perfect.
He rolled over, expecting to find that she’d gone to sleep, but her eyes were wide open and alert.
‘Well, now that you’ve slaked your burning lust on my poor innocent body, don’t you think it’s time you told me about what happened to the general’s dog?’ she asked.
Paco lit two cigarettes, and handed one to Cindy. ‘All the indications were there from the beginning,’ he said. ‘I’d have spotted them right away if I’d really been thinking like a policeman, but as I was only pretending to be interested in the case at that point, I didn’t put them together until much later.’
‘What indications?’ Cindy asked, digging him in the ribs with her finger. ‘Come on, Ruiz. Let’s hear all the juicy details.’
Paco smiled. ‘The first time the general spoke to me in his office, two significant things happened. The first was that a soldier from the Burgos convoy arrived carrying the latest newspaper. Now, he obviously knew the general’s little foibles, because instead of walking straight over to the desk as you or I would have done, he waited in the doorway for the surviving dog – Reina – to come and take it off him.’
‘Is this to the point, or are you just being deliberately obscure to tease me?’ Cindy demanded.
‘It’s very much to the point,’ Paco assured her. ‘You should have seen how pleased the general was when the dog took him the paper. It’s pathetic that a man in command of a large military machine – a man with thousands of lives in the palm of his hand – should take so much pleasure from such childish things.’
‘But then, he wasn’t really in charge at all, was he?’ Cindy asked.
‘No, he wasn’t,’ Paco agreed. ‘He’d probably never have been promoted to the rank of general if it hadn’t been for his family’s influence, and he must have realized it, because he was quite happy to let Colonel Valera issue the orders which really mattered.’
‘Which left him more time to go shopping for exotic presents for that pretty wife of his.’
‘Right again. Anyway, the way he’d got the dog trained should immediately have set me thinking on the right lines, but as I said, I wasn’t really interested in the case then.’
Cindy propped herself up on one elbow. ‘But you became interested enough in it later,’ she said. ‘Anyway, stop trying to show me how clever you are, and get on with the story.’
Paco grinned, sheepishly. ‘If I don’t put things in their proper context, you’ll never see how they all fit together,’ he said in his own defence. ‘Now, I told you that two significant things happened while I was in the general’s office with Major Gómez. The first was the delivery of the newspaper. The second was the arrival of the general’s wife – several minutes later. She said that she’d come with the convoy from Burgos, too.’
‘So what?’
‘She didn’t seem overly upset about the death of her dog – though she gave the general hell for it – but she was very angry when she was told I was going to try and find its killer. I thought at the time it was because my blue boiler-suit identified me as one of the enemy – she’s very right-wing, you know. But, of course that wasn’t the reason at all. What she really didn’t want was a competent investigator looking into the case.’
‘Then she shouldn’t have been worried about having you on it,’ Cindy said, teasing him.
‘The second time I went to the palacio was interesting, too,’ Paco continued, ignoring her words. ‘She left the door to the general’s office open while she was trying to talk him into shooting me, just to make sure I heard her. But when she spoke to me, she closed the door so he couldn’t hear.’
‘And what did she say to you?’
‘She said that a real man wouldn’t wait around to be executed. You see, if she couldn’t have me shot, then she at least wanted me to run away.’
‘What exactly are you saying, Ruiz?’ Cindy asked. ‘That she killed her own dog?’
‘No, I’m not saying that at all.’ Paco swung his legs off the bed. ‘I think we both deserve a copa of brandy.’
‘You’re not wrong,’ Cindy told him.
He padded into the kitchen, and returned with two brandy glasses almost full to the brim. He handed one to Cindy, and took a sip from the other. ‘You see, my big problem was working out why anyone would want to kill the dog in the first place,’ he said. ‘Not only was it pointless, but it was also dangerous.’
‘I know all that,’ Cindy said impatiently.
‘There were two additional things which helped me knit it all together,’ Paco continued. ‘As I told you, the general’s wife left the office door open so I woul
d fully appreciate just how hard she was working at getting me shot. What she couldn’t realize was that I’d also hear something that would help me to solve the case.’
‘And what was that?’
‘The general said something like, “Isn’t that the dress I bought you for your birthday?” And she said, “You know it is. You always remember everything you’ve bought for me”. Which, according to Pérez was quite a lot, and usually very daring – some of the other men used to run the risk of being disciplined just to get a look at her underwear hanging on the clothes’ line.’
‘I’m still not getting this,’ Cindy admitted. ‘You said there were two additional things that tipped you off. What was the second one?’
‘The murder of the seamstress, of course.’
‘Ah yes, you were going to tell me about her.’
‘She was found dead in her mother’s bedroom. Hanging from a hook. The full details don’t matter. The important thing is that I’d seen her in Colonel Valera’s office the previous day, and that had sealed her fate. He simply couldn’t take the risk that I’d talk to her, and at that particular moment it was easier for him to kill her than it was for him to kill me – although he’d already tried that, late at night on the Calle Belén.’
‘You’re gonna have to talk me through this, Ruiz,’ Cindy said. ‘You might have given me all the bits of the puzzle, but I have absolutely no idea how they fit together.’
Paco took another sip of his brandy, and tried not to look complacent. ‘Let’s go back to the convoy arriving from Burgos,’ he said. ‘Who would you think was the most important person in that convoy? The officer in charge of it?’
‘I suppose so.’
Paco grinned. ‘He was probably no more than a captain – a major at most – and you think he’d be more important than—’
‘The general’s wife!’ Cindy interrupted.
‘Certainly it was the general’s wife. Can you imagine what it would be like escorting her? I can, because I’ve met her. If she wanted to go to the toilet, I’ve no doubt in my mind that the whole convoy came to a halt. If she decided to stop at a roadside inn for a cup of coffee, then the entire military machine would have to wait outside until she’d finished and was ready to move on again.’
‘She sounds like a real bitch,’ Cindy said.
‘She is. But the question you have to ask yourself is why this real bitch arrived at the palacio considerably later than the newspaper did. Either she’d been kept waiting at the back of the convoy until some of the more routine business had been done, or—’
‘Or she hadn’t just come from Burgos at all!’ Cindy said, with sudden realization.
‘Now you’re thinking.’
‘She’d been in the village for some time. And the reason she was keeping her presence a secret from her husband was because she was having an affair with . . . with Colonel Valera!’
‘That’s right. But she knew she couldn’t stay in Valera’s house for ever, and she used all the confusion of the convoy’s arrival to slip back home. It was risky, of course – the general might have asked to speak to whoever drove her down from Burgos. But why should he? Anyway, it’s always a risky business, having an affair with your husband’s second-in-command.’
‘And the fact that she was in the village would explain why the dog escaped from the palacio!’ Cindy said excitedly.
‘Of course. He ran away to look for his mistress. And the fact that he knew where to look would suggest she’d taken him there before.’ Paco looked down at his brandy glass and was surprised to find it empty. ‘I think I need a refill,’ he said. ‘Just a small one this time.’
Cindy pulled a face. ‘I’ll swear you’re breaking off at the crucial moment just to annoy me,’ she said.
‘Maybe I am,’ Paco agreed. ‘Is it working?’
When he returned from the kitchen, Cindy was deep in contemplation. ‘I think I’ve got some of it figured out now,’ she said. ‘The dog went straight to the colonel’s house. Right?’
‘Right.’
‘The door must have been off the latch – an easy mistake to make when you’re in the throes of passion – and the dog was able to push it open and get inside. What I don’t understand is why the sentry on duty didn’t stop him.’
‘There wasn’t one.’
‘How come?’
‘When I asked Major Gómez why sometimes there were sentries and sometimes there weren’t, he said he withdrew them to show the colonel that he wasn’t as important as he thought he was. That was a lie, but it was one he had to tell in order to appear to be shielding a brother officer – even if he couldn’t stand the brother officer in question.’
‘So what was the truth?’
‘Gómez dismissed the sentries for no other reason than that Valera told him to. You see, he didn’t dare risk any of the enlisted men finding out what was going on with him and the general’s wife.’
‘The enlisted men?’ Cindy repeated. ‘Do you mean to say that the officers knew all about it?’
‘Some of them, certainly, but they’re bound by a code of honour. That isn’t the case with the ordinary soldiers. If one of them had stumbled across the truth, news of the affair would have spread round the village like wildfire. In the end, even the general himself would probably have come to hear of it. So Valera and the general’s wife knew they had to be discreet. And they were – even Private Pérez, who keeps his nose pretty close to the ground, only knew that the colonel had a mistress of some sort.’
‘OK, so now we’ve got that straight, you want to hear what I think happened next?’ Cindy said.
‘Be my guest.’
‘There was no one on the ground floor, but the dog could hear noises coming from upstairs.’ Cindy giggled. ‘Very interesting noises. He went to investigate. And what did he find when he got there? Why, he found Colonel Valera and the general’s wife frolicking buck-naked on the colonel’s bed! Well, they must have been shocked. Maybe they even shouted him. But it didn’t bother the dog – he took it as part of some kind of game.’
‘You’re nearly there,’ Paco said encouragingly.
‘There was a piece of her clothing on the floor. Pants or a stocking or something.’
‘It was her petticoat,’ Paco supplied.
‘The dog picks it up. One of the lovebirds makes a grab at it. Maybe that’s when the petticoat gets the tear in it, or maybe it happens later.’ She looked anxiously at Paco, as if she’d just started to wonder if she was talking a load of nonsense. ‘It does get torn, doesn’t it?’
‘Yes, it gets torn,’ Paco assured her.
‘Anyway, grabbing at it only makes things worse. The dog is now convinced they’re all playing a really neat game, and he runs downstairs again. There’s one hell of a panic in the bedroom, with madam wailing about what’s going to happen when the general finds out, and Valera getting dressed as quickly as he can. By the time the colonel’s got downstairs, the dog is out in the street, and when Valera goes after him, he starts to run away.’ She paused. ‘What was he going to do with the petticoat? Take it to the general, just like he’d been trained to take newspapers?’
‘Perhaps,’ Paco said. ‘Or perhaps not. It doesn’t really matter one way or the other.’
‘Why not?’
‘Picture the scene. Valera is chasing the dog along the Calle Belén, but he’s wasting his time. The animal can easily outrun him, and as long as it still thinks they’re playing a game together, that’s exactly what it intends to keep on doing. But as far as the colonel’s concerned, things are getting desperate – because they’re approaching the Calle Mayor.’
‘Why is that important?’
‘Because the street is full of people. That’s why it doesn’t matter whether or not the dog was taking the petticoat back to the general. All it would need for their secret to be out would be for someone – anyone – to see the animal coming from the general direction of the Plaza de Santa Teresa with the bloody thing in its mouth.
Everyone would recognize it, you see. They all know her taste in clothes – or rather the general’s taste – and she’s the only woman in the village who could afford such finery. Besides, it’s her dog – and everyone knows that, too.’
‘So it was vital that the colonel stopped the dog before it reached the main street.’
‘Precisely. He didn’t want to shoot it – he knew that would only be storing up trouble for himself in the future – but he really hadn’t any other choice if he was to avoid immediate exposure. So, he did shoot it. I expect he would have liked to take it away and bury it in secret – a dog which has simply disappeared is much easier to explain away than one which has been killed. But the point is, he didn’t have the chance. People on the Calle Mayor had heard the shots, and were already running toward the Calle Belén to find out what had happened. The only thing he had time for was to snatch the petticoat from the dead animal’s mouth and make a run for it. Even then, he nearly got caught. Pérez and his mates didn’t actually see him – the bend in the street ensured that – but they did hear him running away.’
‘He had to get the petticoat repaired,’ Cindy said.
‘Naturally. The general would eventually have noticed it was missing – for all I know he made her pose in it two or three times a week – and want to know where it had gone. And how was she to answer him? Was she to say that she had thrown away a new and expensive petticoat which he had personally chosen? No, the lovers’ only chance was to get it skilfully repaired and hope that in the dim light of the bedroom, the general wouldn’t notice the repair. And it was that decision, plus my intervention in the case, which cost Carmen Sanchez her life.’
Cindy shook her head. ‘Poor Carmen. She’s the real victim in this. If she’d never learned her trade, she’d still have been alive today.’ A tear ran down her cheek for the dead seamstress she’d never even met. ‘I think I’d like another brandy now, Ruiz,’ she said.
When Paco returned from his third trip to the kitchen, Cindy had wiped her tear away, and was smoking a fresh cigarette. ‘What do you think’s going to happen to Valera?’ she asked.
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