Somebody who keeps themselves in that state of readiness is used to it.'
'You mean he's trained?' said Falcón.
'The only question is whether it's crime, terrorism or government that's trained him.'
'The compartmentalizing style of management,' said Falcón. 'Nobody knows what anybody else is doing. Krugman talked about the importance of hierarchy, the discipline on the sites. He said he had no experience of it, but that it felt like a military style of working.'
'Maybe he's been militarily trained by a government and is using it for the purposes of crime or terrorism.'
'The only reason we're thinking about terrorism is because of the 9/11 reference in the note he had in his hand,' said Falcón. 'I don't know how much importance we can attach to a note that was traced over from an indentation in his own hand and written in English. Marty Krugman talked to him endlessly about 9/11 and he couldn't make any sense of it.'
Cristina Ferrera knocked on the door.
'There's a postbox in the name of Emilio Cruz in the post office in San Bernardo,' she said. 'But don't get too excited. It's empty and there's been nothing in it since last year.'
'What sort of mail used to arrive there for him?'
'He remembers there being a letter every month with US stamps on it.'
'Anything on Alberto Montes?'
'Nothing yet,' she said, closing the door.
The two men turned back to the window.
'What did the letter to his wife say?'
' "I'm sorry… forgive me… I've failed…" – the usual shit,' said Ramírez.
'Anything about being protected or looked after?'
'At the end he said: "Don't worry, you'll be well looked after,"' said Ramírez. 'Are we being paranoid here?'
'And his second in command, his inspector? Did he have anything to say.'
'Nothing. Shocked by the whole thing.'
'Just like the rest of the squad,' said Falcón. 'If he was on the take, he was doing it on his own.'
'And if he was on the take he's got to keep it somewhere. He's also got to let his wife know where it is and she's got to go and collect it or do something with it.'
'I'm going to make my verbal report to Comisario Elvira now,' said Falcón. 'Find out who Montes used as a lawyer.'
Before Falcón could make his verbal report, Elvira had a photocopy of the letter made and went through it with one of his pencils as if it was a piece of homework. Falcón stuck to the facts in his report and offered no conjecture.
'I'm going to ask you to venture an opinion, Inspector Jefe,' said Elvira, when he'd finished. 'This is the first suicide we've ever had at the Jefatura. There will be media interest. The Diario de Sevilla has already called.'
'I only knew Montes by sight until last week,' said Falcón. 'I went to ask him about a man called Eduardo Carvajal, whose name appeared in Rafael Vega's address book and whose name I knew from my investigation into the Raúl Jiménez case last year.'
'I know that name,' said Elvira. 'I was working in
Malaga when he was "killed" in that so-called car crash. He was a key prosecution witness in a paedophile case. There was a cover-up, as you probably know. The car was destroyed before it could be investigated and there seemed to be some doubt as to the nature of his head injuries.'
'Montes said that Carvajal was going to make him famous. He'd promised him names. Then he died and, in the end, only four members of the paedophile ring were convicted.'
'I'll tell you something that should not go out of this room,' said Elvira. 'Word came down from politicians to top office here that the Carvajal car accident was not something that should be picked over under any media spotlight.'
'As you can imagine, there were some unpleasant memories for Inspector Jefe Montes at the mention of Carvajal's name,' said Falcón. 'Montes explained that Carvajal was the procurer for the rings and that the source for the children being used was the Russian mafia. There's a link between Rafael Vega and two Russians who are investing in an unusual way in two projects under the umbrella of Vega Construcciones. Interpol subsequently told us that the Russians were known mafiosi. I called Montes to run the names by him on Friday evening. He was drunk. I called him again this morning and he said he was happy to talk about it. Then he jumped out of his office window.'
'According to his psychological assessment, carried out last year, he's had a drink problem since 1998… which was the year of the car crash involving Eduardo Carvajal,' said Elvira. 'He has also not been well in the last eight months.'
'He mentioned kidney stones and a hernia.'
'There was a liver problem, as well, which was making him very sick at times.'
'That adds to the pressure,' said Falcón.
'What do you make of this letter to his squad?'
'I wanted to say one more thing about Montes and Carvajal which relates to the letter,' said Falcón. 'Montes told me about the Russian mafia connection. He gave me an insight into the mafia people-trafficking business. If he has been corrupted and fears being discovered – which, if I'm not mistaken, is what we're talking about here – why should he be giving me that information? When I read the letter I got the feeling that the pressure of not telling had become so great that it was coming out anyway. He hasn't "been able to do the good he intended", which could mean that he has done bad. The "corruption" is possibly what's happened to him. The "oppression" is his guilt. He feels "trapped" and "unable to speak" because he's working against everything he believed in. And the last line about "protect my family" implies some kind of danger to them. I think Inspector Jefe Montes was a good man who made, or was forced to make, a very bad choice and he deeply regretted it.'
'I've asked for your opinion and you've given it to me,' said Elvira. 'It's unusable, of course. Now I want your proof. You realize that this will be unpleasant, Inspector Jefe?'
'You might want to talk to Comisario Lobo about the political implications within the Jefatura of what I would propose,' said Falcón, 'which is that we should look closely at Sra Montes's movements in the next few days.'
Chapter 21
Monday, 29th July 2002
Now that Alicia Aguado's involvement in Sebastián Ortega's case was out in the open, Falcón decided to speak to Elvira about his intentions. It had occurred to him that his case for using her was weak and the prison director would obviously prefer to use his own psychologists for the work. He pushed Elvira into speaking to the director on his behalf, citing Alicia Aguado's rapport with the prisoner and her belief in her ability to draw information out. Elvira looked at him steadily throughout, as if he barely believed a word he was saying. He acquiesced silently. Falcón also asked that, due to the shortage of manpower in his squad, somebody else should be used to watch Sra Montes. Elvira said he had his own ideas on that point.
The outer office of the Homicide squad was empty. Ramírez was standing at the window.
'Where's Cristina gone?' asked Falcón.
'She's found a Narcotics guy who thinks he knows how to locate Salvador Ortega,' he said. 'Are you going to tell me about that?'
'What about the postboxes?'
'Just the Emilio Cruz one. None for Montes or Vega,' said Ramírez. 'I've been calling the banks, trying to find a safe-deposit box to fit this key. There's one in the name of Emilio Cruz at the Banco Banesto.'
'That's good,' said Falcón. 'Any news on Montes's lawyer?'
'I spoke to him. He hadn't heard from Alberto Montes in three years. The last time they spoke was to make an adjustment to the will,' said Ramírez, and held up his hand. 'Now you've got to tell me about Salvador Ortega. I know who he is, just tell me why we want to talk to him.'
'Because Pablo used to see him and he might know what the problem was between the brothers,' said Falcón.
'Is that going to help us find Vega's killer?' said Ramírez.
'Think for a moment about how Vega was killed.'
'It was nasty… vindictive. They wanted him to suffer. Mafios
i are like that. They do it to set an example to others who might be thinking of cheating them.'
'That's right, which is why we need to work on clarifying their motive because at the moment all I can see is that Vega was important to their plans,' said Falcón. 'Now, listen to these names and let me tell you that they all knew each other: Raúl Jiménez, Ramon Salgado, Eduardo Carvajal, Rafael Vega, Pablo and Ignacio Ortega.'
'You think there's a paedophile connection,' said Ramírez. 'How do you know the Ortegas knew Carvajal?'
'They were in a shot together on Raúl Jiménez's study wall,' said Falcón. 'And all those names were in
Vega's -' Falcón stopped. 'I've just had a thought. I'll have to check it. Tell me what adjustment Montes made to his will.'
'He added a property to his assets,' said Ramírez. 'A small finca, worth less than three million pesetas.'
'I bet that made your heart leap for a moment.'
'I don't think I would have got the information so easily if it had been a 200-million-peseta villa in Marbella.'
'Did he say where it was?'
'He couldn't remember. He's going to look it up in the copy of the will and call me back.'
'Was there a mortgage on it?'
'He didn't know. He wasn't involved in the purchase of it.'
'When you've got an address for it, check out the deed and see if he ever talked about it to the people in his squad.'
The phone rang in the outer office. Ramírez took it, hunched over and scribbled furiously for a few minutes. He slammed the phone down, triumphant.
'We've got a result on Rafael Vega's ID trace,' he said. 'The first Rafael Vega died back in 1983 at the age of thirty-nine in a shipping accident in the port of La Coruna; the second one died from drinking acid last week.'
'How did he manage that?'
'The first time he died was just at the point when they were changing records from manual to computer. According to the computer records he was still alive. Only by going back to the old paper records did they find the death certificate.'
'He was the right age.'
'He was the right age, physically similar and he had no family. The original Rafael Vega was an orphan who became a merchant seaman. He never married.'
'So, not only was our Rafael Vega trained, but he was well connected in the clandestine world as well,' said Falcón. 'Finally we get the break, José Luis, but…'
'Yes, I know,' said Ramírez. 'He isn't who he says he is… but who the fuck is he?'
'There's an American connection. Krugman was sure he'd lived there and now we know he was getting mail sent to him from there,' said Falcón. 'And there's possibly a Mexican one.'
'The Mexican wife might just be another fake,' said Ramírez. 'It would be more plausible for a man of that age to have been married before.'
'He's looking to me as if he's Central or South American origin now.'
'If you were originally Argentinian, would you use a fake passport from your country of origin?'
'Maybe not, but that still leaves the rest of the subcontinent,' said Falcón. 'Perhaps we need to have a meeting with Juez Calderón. We're due one early this week. I think this classifies as a development.'
He put a call through to Calderón's secretary. The judge was just finishing a meeting. She would talk to him and see if there was a chance before lunch. After lunch was out of the question. Falcón hung up and sat back in his chair.
'What sort of people need the level of secrecy at which Rafael Vega was operating?' he asked.
'Someone who was a covert intelligence operative for a government or a terrorist organization,' said Ramírez. 'Someone involved in the drugs trade.'
'What about an arms dealer?' said Falcón. 'The Russian connection. Where's the easiest place to get military hardware?'
'Russia, via the mafia,' said Ramírez. 'And the money is coming from the building projects. Those land deals were done directly between the original owners and the Russians. No money trail to Vega.'
'Plausible, but that just gives us more questions. Who is he supplying and, before we let our imagination run completely wild,' said Falcón, 'why kill him?'
'A terrorist organization that doesn't want a lead to their door,' said Ramírez.
Calderón's secretary called back and said that he could see them in half an hour. They drove to the Edificio de los Juzgados and went straight up to Calderón's office. He was facing away from his desk, looking through the slats of the blinds, smoking. He heard them come in. He told them to sit.
'Case or no case?' he asked, without turning around.
'Complications,' said Falcón, and talked him through the secret life of Rafael Vega.
As Falcón spoke, Calderón turned in his chair. If the last time Falcón had seen him he'd looked as though he'd come back to the city after being lost in the mountains, now he looked as stricken as a man who'd had to eat his comrades in order to survive. He was haggard, the smudges beneath his eyes were now grape-dark and his forehead was stepped with furrows. He seemed to have lost weight. His neck did not fill his collar. Falcón finished. Calderón nodded, he seemed pensive but distracted. The new information did not galvanize his ambition.
'Well, you've got a bit more background information on Vega now,' he said, 'but you still haven't given me any real development in the case – no witness, no motive. What exactly do you want?'
'We could start with a search warrant for the safe- deposit box in the Banco Banesto,' said Ramírez, cutting in, exchanging a look with Falcón.
'Whose box is it?' asked Calderón.
'It's Vega's, of course,' said Ramírez, puzzled by the judge's lack of comprehension, 'but in the name of Emilio Cruz.'
'I'll work on it,' said Calderón. 'What else?'
'We have theories. We want more time,' said Falcón, and gave him the examples of the Russian mafia connection to military hardware, and the names of the men who all appeared to know each other from Vega's address book and Raúl Jiménez's photographs.
'That's all conjecture,' said Calderón. 'Where's the evidence? Vega has been running a successful construction business in Seville for nearly twenty years. He's built it more or less from scratch. So, he happens to run his business in a certain way and…'
'You seem to be forgetting that he's a man with perfect fake Spanish documents and an Argentinian alias with Moroccan visas for a quick getaway,' said Ramírez. 'I hardly think that level of secrecy would classify him as, say, a married man embarking on illicit affairs.'
Calderón shot him a look that whistled past his ear.
'I can see that,' said the judge. 'Obviously the man had a past. He's escaped from something and rebuilt his life. Maybe his past has caught up with him in some way, but that doesn't help you determine which direction you're going to take. You're talking about arms dealing, drug running, people-trafficking and terrorism, but you haven't shown me a lead that would indicate a direction. You've just got theories. The Russian land deals look odd, agreed. Their connection to Vega is unhealthy, to say the least. But we have no access to the original owner of the plots. You can look up the sale price on the deed, but that won't tell you much because everybody puts a low value on land sales for tax purposes. There has to be a chain of logic that the Juez Decano can see if public money is to be spent chasing these… notions.'
'You don't see any connection between Sr Vega's death and the suicide of his neighbour?' said Ramírez.
'You haven't told me of one, apart from names in an address book and people appearing together in photographs,' said Calderón, stifling a yawn. 'Juez Romero said he couldn't see any either. The two deaths seem to be a coincidence, with the difference that there's no doubt in one case and some uncertainty in the other. An uncertainty which is in our minds and not in any evidence you've brought before me.'
'What about the note referring to a famous terrorist act?' said Ramírez.
'That is a slice of information as relevant to the court as his files on war crimes tribunals, o
r the fact that he kept a battered old car in a garage, or that he wasn't who he says he was. It's all information, but like the anonymous threats it's not connected to anything,' said Calderón. He turned to Falcón. 'You're not saying anything, Inspector Jefe.'
'Are we wasting our time with this?' said Falcón, weary of it all now that Calderón's listlessness had seeped into his own bloodstream. 'We might find more bits of fascinating information which supply neither witness nor motive. We're down to three people because of the holidays. We have a serious situation in the Jefatura…'
'I heard about that,' said Calderón, staring into his desk, hands clasped between his knees.
'Our chances of finding the only witness, Sergei, grow slimmer by the day. Do we finish with it or carry on? If we carry on, which direction should we take?'
'OK, you're annoyed. I can see you've done good work and found interesting information,' said Calderón, catching Falcón's tone and trying to get some enthusiasm into his voice. 'At the moment, in my mind, given the psychological profile of the victim – of which we have clear evidence from a doctor and Maddy Krugman's photographs – and even taking your new findings into consideration, I am still more inclined to believe that Vega killed his wife and then himself. If you can accept that, I will return a verdict of suicide. If you're still curious enough to carry on, I'll give you forty-eight hours.'
'To go in which direction?' asked Ramírez.
'Whichever you like,' said Calderón. 'Do you have any chance of talking to the Russians face to face?'
'They're in Portugal,' said Falcón. 'It's possible they'll come over to look at their investments.'
'Who would they contact?'
'Probably Carlos Vázquez.'
'There's a man with something to hide,' said Ramírez.
'What about finding out who Vega really is?' said Falcón.
'How?' asked Calderón, half turning back to the window.
The American connection,' said Falcón. 'Let's say he was living there twenty years ago, and that he had escaped from something and rebuilt his life. I've just remembered that detail in the autopsy report about the old plastic surgery. It seems a likely scenario. Maybe he had a criminal record or was known in some way to the FBI.'
The Silent and the Damned aka The Vanished Hands Page 26