Juan Foot in the Grave

by Roger Keevil

  Roxanne suddenly grew very still.

  “And it seems strange that Ed Stone’s death had never roused any suspicions before. We’ve heard enough hints. Walter told us about Ed’s ‘nasty accident’, as he called it, and he couldn’t believe how such an experienced quarryman could make such elementary safety errors. But, innocent that he is, and disposed to believe the best of people, he took the whole thing at face value and put it down to simple bad luck. He believed the account given by the only witness to the fall – Juan Manuel Laborero. And then Eve told us about the very generous present which Roxanne gave to Juan Manuel soon after Ed’s death – the death where Juan Manuel was the only other person on the scene. That extremely smart sports car has been interpreted as a gesture of thanks for the great support which Juan provided to Roxanne immediately after she was left a widow. A widow who inherited immediate control of a very profitable venture, the building supplies company. A widow who had been involved with Juan, according to the information we’ve been given, even while her husband was still alive. A grieving widow who could send Juan to report the circumstances of Ed Stone’s death to the police in his flawless Spanish, in such a way that no suspicion arose at the time. So here’s a tale that goes back as far as you like to take it – Shakespeare told it very well in ‘Hamlet’ – the wife and the lover conspired to murder the husband. Not a new story at all.”

  “No proof,” forced out Roxanne. “You haven’t any proof of all this. And you won’t get any. Not now that… ” She stopped in sudden realisation of the import of her words.

  “Perhaps no proof as yet,” said Andy Constable gently. “But now the police are investigating other things. So could the facts of Ed Stone’s death be concealed forever? Juan didn’t seem to think so. He felt that the jeopardy in which he found himself was too great. So he devised a plan. He would confess to all his crimes – the bribery, the corruption, the involvement with illegal immigration, the fraud – and bring the whole structure crashing down in return for personal immunity. But in comparison to all the other fiddles and deceits we’ve heard about, Ed Stone’s death stands out. All the other offences are what we might call paper crimes – the offences are largely financial, and perhaps a financial penalty, however gigantic, might deal with them. Perhaps Mr. Husami’s money might talk loudest after all. Maybe… ” Constable permitted himself a small dry smile. “Maybe, unlike Webster’s Dictionary in the song, he’s not ‘Morocco bound’. But Roxanne Stone’s conspiracy to murder her husband stands out. Death is one of the few things that can’t be paid away with a fine. And it seems likely that, whether from Juan himself or from some other source, Roxanne got wind of what Juan intended to do. And that made her desperate.”

  “It was never meant to be like that, you know.” Roxanne’s voice sounded calm, almost dreamy. “It started out as just a silly fling. Juan was a very attractive man. He flirted outrageously – I knew very well he did it to all the women, but that didn’t make any difference. It was just part of the fun. And he was very hard to resist, so… so I stopped resisting. We had our fun, and I did everything I could to keep it from Ed. I still loved my husband, you see.” She raised her eyes to the inspector. “You can believe that or not as you like, Mr. Constable, but I assure you it’s true. And after a while, I realised that what I was doing was stupid. It was going nowhere – it never could. So I told Juan that we had to stop – that I couldn’t let Ed find out. That didn’t go down well at all. He was the kind of man who wouldn’t accept a brush-off. He thought that his charm meant that he would set the rules, that he would decide when something was over. So rather than cause a confrontation, I let him persuade me. We carried on. And then came that horrible day – the day Juan came back from the quarry and told me that Ed was dead, and that he had done it all for me.”

  “And you had never wanted Juan to do such a thing?”

  “No, inspector, I swear.” Roxanne grew tearful. “But I couldn’t convince Juan of that. With that damned male arrogance of his, he believed that I had hinted, or encouraged, or goodness knows what – he actually thought that he and I had somehow hatched this plot between us, and nothing I could say would convince him otherwise. And he said that nobody would believe my denials.” She reached for a handkerchief and dabbed her eyes.

  Andy Constable let the ensuing pause grow for several seconds. “Well, well, Mrs. Stone,” he said eventually. “I have to say that that was quite a performance. Your acting skills do you credit. I’m impressed. Sadly, not impressed enough, because I don’t believe a word of it. You’ve had plenty of opportunities to give our Spanish friends and ourselves your new version of the truth, but instead you have taken every chance to propose diversionary solutions to take our attention away from you and towards the other people in this room. But one fact stares me in the face – everybody else was at risk because of what was known by a string of people, but you only had one person to worry about. With Juan gone, you could believe yourself safe. And speaking of opportunities brings me to the third leg of the tripod. Who had the chance to kill Juan during what I’ve had described to me as a game of hide and seek at the party? This is where I’ve cause to be grateful to my very assiduous colleague Sergeant Copper for his meticulous note-taking.”

  Dave Copper gave an abashed half-grin in response to the compliment, but it went un-noticed. All eyes remained on the inspector.

  “After Juan’s disappearance into the garden, everyone seems to have gone outside looking for him. Quite a procession. Philippa Glass was the first to follow him outside, and X-Pat Connor pursued her shortly afterwards. I’m guessing that there was some sort of confrontation which led to Philippa’s return in a state of upset. Whether Juan was involved in that is not certain, but my guess is that he prudently kept himself away from the furious Connor. But shortly thereafter, Liza needed to speak to Juan. Instead, I think she found X-Pat Connor and succeeded in calming him down, and the two returned indoors together. Roxanne Stone was the next to head outside, at around ten o’clock – precisely at the moment at which Liza and X-Pat were re-entering the house. She had made some remark about protecting herself – something of a give-away, but Eve Stropper interpreted that as relating to the security on the building sites, and relayed it to Ewan Husami about ten minutes later. He left to find Mrs. Stone, and they re-appeared soon afterwards. But for that crucial ten minutes, Mrs. Stone was alone in the garden with Juan Manuel. Enough time for a resourceful and desperate woman to take her opportunity and, in the darkness and using a convenient item of building materials lying to hand, silence the one man who could give her away and, with swift improvisation, bury the body in the trench to delay discovery and, when Ewan Husami appeared out of the darkness just as she had finished, calmly return with him to the party inside the house. As I say, the performance of an accomplished actress. So that when Tim Berman was searching for Juan only a few moments later, he was unable to find him.”

  “Oh, don’t all look at me like that,” hissed Roxanne to the room. “You all know what that little swine was like. Not a care in the world for anyone else – all he was concerned with was screwing all the rest of us, whether it was for money or the other thing. And he deserved what he got. That bastard killed my husband, and I don’t care if you think what I did was wrong. He got justice in the end, so maybe I’ll get the same.”

  In the stunned silence which followed Roxanne’s final words, Walter Torrance cleared his throat. “Inspector… does this mean that the rest of us can go?”

  Despite himself, Andy Constable was amused. “Well, I’m sure you can, Mr. Torrance. I’m not so sure about the others. That’s a matter for the captain now.”

  Alfredo got to his feet, put on his uniform cap, and assumed a considerably more formal air. “Mr. Torrance, you may go. The rest of you will wait here.” He opened the door and issued swift orders to one of the officers waiting outside. “Mrs. Stone – you will come with me. I wish you to make a statement.” He took an unresisting Roxanne by the arm and,
followed by the other policeman, led her towards his office. The door closed behind the three.

  Epilogue

  “I think I’ve had enough of Spain for the time being,” remarked Andy Constable as he whirled the dials on the combination lock of his suitcase. “I shall be glad to get back home to some ordinary British crime.”

  “You’re not wrong, guv,” agreed Dave Copper, placing his case beside the door of the apartment. “If this is a holiday, maybe I should be putting in for double late shifts to give myself a breather.” He grinned. “Mind you, you have to admit – in a weird way, it’s been fun.”

  “I admit nothing,” responded Constable. “But if you’re right, I think we’ve had quite enough fun for one holiday.”

  The shrilling of the doorbell greeted his remark. Constable turned his eyes heavenwards. “Oh no… not again. Please tell me…”

  “I’ll get it, guv.” Dave Copper opened the door to be greeted by the sight of Alfredo in full police uniform leathers, a motor-cycle helmet under his arm. The smile on his face was brilliant in its intensity.

  “Good morning, Andy, David. I am come to say goodbye on your last morning, and to thank you properly again for all the help you give me.”

  “Everything in order back at the ranch?” asked Copper.

  “Oh yes,” beamed Alfredo. “I have called in extra men, who are making examinations of the people in the case. I think we will be very busy for a time. And my Commander is very pleased with me – I have told him it could not have been done without you two, but I think that for the honour of Spain, he will say nothing about that.”

  “I’ve no quarrel with that,” said Constable. “You take all the credit you like. I just want to get to the airport and catch that flight home.”

  “This is why I am here,” replied Alfredo. “To make sure that you will arrive to the airport safely. Come.” Ignoring the other’s puzzled frown, he picked up Constable’s suitcase and led the way down to the courtyard, where one of his young officers sat astride a huge gleaming police motor-cycle alongside Alfredo’s own similar machine, flanking the Britons’ hire car. “We will escort you to the airport.”

  “Good grief, you don’t have to do that,” laughed Constable, touched in spite of himself. “Anyway, we’ve got to drop the key for this place off with Liza Lott.”

  “I think, Andy, that Miss Lott will not be opening her office this morning,” said Alfredo with a twinkle. “And perhaps not any morning soon. I believe she will have other things to do. And I will be seeing her again at my station today, so I think you can safely give the key to me to return to her. So shall we go?” He straddled his machine as Constable and Copper loaded their luggage and climbed into the car. “It will be a pleasure for me. I do not have the chance to ride one of these as often as I like.” He kicked the cycle into life and, sirens wailing, led the procession into the road and away.

  At the Departures level of Alicante airport, Dave Copper was struck by a sudden thought. “Here guv, we’ve come to the wrong place. I’m supposed to return the car downstairs. Hang on – I’ll try not to be too long.”

  “No, that is not necessary,” said Alfredo. “Give me the car keys as well – Felipe here will take your car back. It will all be in order. And he too will enjoy it, even if for only a few minutes.” He spoke briefly to his junior, who climbed into the car and, grinning broadly, roared off towards the multi-storey car park.

  “Well.” Andy Constable extended his hand to Alfredo. “I suppose this is where I say ‘Hasta la vista’.”

  “No,” countered Alfredo. “We do not say that. That is just for American films with Arnold Schwarzenegger. Here we say ‘Hasta luego’ – until later.”

  “Okay, I stand corrected,” smiled Constable. “And I hope you won’t feel offended if, unlike Arnie, I say ‘I won’t be back’!”

  *

  “Is it really only a week since we were last here, guv?” said Dave Copper as he looked around the departure lounge.

  “It is that,” replied Andy Constable, taking a seat and stretching his legs out in front of him. “This is the last chance I’ll get for any decent legroom for the next few hours.”

  “Well, at least we won’t be hanging around too long. According to the screens, the inbound flight looks to be on time. They haven’t put up a departure gate for our flight yet for some reason, so I’m just going to have a stroll round, if that’s okay by you.”

  “You go ahead. I’m fine here.” Constable closed his eyes.

  A few minutes later, Copper was back, seating himself alongside Constable and opening the pages of a British newspaper. “Sorry, guv, but I couldn’t resist it. Somebody left it lying around. I’ve been starved of my usual over the past week.” He headed for the football pages, spending the next few minutes uttering a series of groans, tuts, and the occasional small exclamation of delight, before turning to other news at the front of the paper. “Another health scare – apparently it’s celery this time… the French are having another row with everybody else… that volcano in Iceland has blown its top again… ”

  Constable opened one eye. “What, the one that caused all the trouble with the flights last time? Don’t say we’re in for another dose of that again.”

  “Well, at least we should be safe today, guv. Our flight’s already on its way.”

  “And thank goodness for that.”

  “Er… hang on… it says here that today should be fine, but they’re worried about the cloud of ash getting into British airspace tomorrow.”

  “No problem, then.”

  “May I have your attention, please. Will all passengers to the United Kingdom please stand by for important information concerning their flights. Thank you.”

  “What the hell’s that all about? Copper, go and find out, would you – and let me have a look at that paper.”

  “May I have your attention, please. DerryAir regret to announce the cancellation of their flight KY70 to London due to climatic conditions beyond their control, which have resulted in the closure of all UK airspace. Would passengers please remain in the lounge and await further information.”

  Constable seized the newspaper. “Trust the bloody Met Office to get things wrong again. What is it they’re saying?” His eye fell on the paper’s masthead, and he let out a snort of exasperation. “Copper, you oaf! You do realise we’re stuck here for God knows how long, don’t you? This is yesterday’s paper!”

  * * *

  Follow Inspector Constable’s first investigation…

  Who killed celebrity clairvoyant Horace Cope at the annual fête at Dammett Hall? Did rival Seymour Cummings spot trouble ahead? Did magistrate Lady Lawdown take justice into her own hands? Or has her daughter Laura Biding got a guilty secret?

  Detective Inspector Andy Constable and his irreverent colleague Sergeant Dave Copper must try to make sense of the whirl of gossip, rumour and secrets circling the peaceful English village of Dammett Worthy. Throw into the mix a celebrated author, a dodgy solicitor and a sponging relative, and Constable and Copper really have their work cut out!

  “… an ideal book to spend a lazy afternoon with.”

  bookgeeks.co.uk