City of Good Death: A Gripping Crime Thriller (A Detective Elisenda Domènech Investigation 1)

by Chris Lloyd

  A man seated on a deep and faded brown leather sofa turned to look at her.

  'Well, isn't this a nice surprise?' she said to him.

  Chapter Forty One

  'Professor Marsans?' the young plain-clothes policeman greeted him affably in the foyer to the Mossos d'Esquadra station in Vista Alegre. 'Thank you for coming.'

  'Um, delighted,' Marsans replied. He had steeled himself over a café amb gel in the bar on the corner before walking through the glass doors into the police station, but he hadn't let the ice melt properly in the thick black coffee and it was sitting heavily in his stomach. Killing time in the bar, he hadn't known what to expect but he had to admit, it wasn't this educated cordiality. Like all his contemporaries, he'd distrusted the old Spanish police since his days of student demos and sit-ins, a distrust that had deepened throughout his adult life of staff room politics and posturing, and the Mossos had done little or nothing to change that attitude as far as he was concerned.

  'My name is Caporal Pau Yáñez,' the policeman in front of him continued, 'and I'm a member of the Serious Crime Unit. Would you be so kind as to follow me?'

  Mystified, Marsans followed the quietly-spoken officer out of the reception area and along a corridor. The policeman stopped in front of a door and ushered Marsans in.

  'I'm afraid we're going to have to use an interview room,' Pau told him, 'but it will be comfortable enough.'

  Marsans went into the room and sat down on a straight-backed chair at the table in the centre of the room. Pau took another chair and placed it at the end of the table at a right-angle to Marsans. He placed a folder he'd been carrying, unopened, in front of him.

  Marsans stared at it. 'May I ask what this is all about?'

  The policeman looked taken aback. 'You have spoken to my superior?' he asked. 'Sotsinspectora Domènech?'

  'I haven't spoken to anyone. I rang as I was asked, but there was no one available to take my call. I was simply asked to come here to meet you.'

  Marsans looked on in surprise as the policeman shook his head and sighed.

  'I'm terribly sorry, Professor Marsans. There's evidently been a mix-up. It's entirely our fault. You were supposed to be put through to either Sotsinspectora Domènech or me. I really cannot apologise enough.'

  Marsans fluttered his fine fingers nervously.

  'I should explain,' Pau continued, gathering his thoughts. 'I've no doubt you're aware of these unusual events that have been occurring in the city over the last few weeks. With Mònica Ferrer and Mossèn Viladrau.'

  'Yes, of course,' Marsans replied cautiously. He was finding the room rather stuffy.

  'Okay, first of all, I have to ask you to take everything I'm going to say to you now in the strictest confidence. These are police matters and they must be kept entirely out of the public domain. I'm afraid we would have to ask you to sign a written undertaking not to disclose anything of what we discuss.'

  Marsans hesitated before replying. 'I imagine that would be all right, Caporal...'

  'Yáñez,' Pau reminded him. Pau turned his gaze away for a moment and placed his hand on the folder, sliding it over to the space between them. 'Anyway, Mònica Ferrer and Mossèn Viladrau. We have noticed some correlation between what happened to them and certain traditional stories related to the city.'

  'Go on,' Marsans said, leaning forward slightly.

  'In the case of Mossèn Viladrau, as you might know, he was found underneath the arches on the Rambla.' Pau pulled a photo of the Vampir out of the folder. 'We see a connection with this.'

  Marsans considered it. 'In what way a connection?'

  'I take it you'll know the local legend that you reveal your love under the Vampir.' Pau explained a little about what was on the DVD, leaving out the story of the young woman dying after the abortion, and described how the priest was found near the carving of the Vampir de la Rambla.

  'Declaring love,' Marsans muttered slowly, unsure.

  'Declaring love in a very perverse sense. The idea of love being discovered.'

  Marsans thought for a moment. 'It's a little tenuous, but I suppose it could be construed as that.'

  Pau pulled some more papers out of the folder. 'I take it you're aware of Mònica Ferrer's murder?'

  'Poor Mònica.'

  'And you've seen the photos on the internet?'

  Marsans said that he hadn't, so Pau showed him the picture of the critic propped up among the rotten food in the market stand. 'We see this as reflecting the legend of the Majordoma.'

  Marsans looked at the photo and considered. 'Yes, I see how this would match the story. Rotten food was supposedly thrown at the Majordoma because she was rather arrogant.'

  'We know it’s a modern legend, Professor. Newly-created. We were hoping you would know if that was significant.'

  Marsans looked uncertain. 'Not that I'm aware.'

  Pau pulled a typed sheet of paper out of the folder and placed it in front of the lecturer. 'I'll just let you read this.'

  Marsans read the report on the four muggers and how each one had been drugged and then left at a specific location. The report then went on to explain how the spot where the men were found tied in with the Bou d'Or legend.

  'It's only one of the versions of the legend,' Pau said, repeating what was written on the paper, 'but it does fit.'

  Marsans put the piece of paper back down on the table. 'I hadn't realised the full extent of this. I remember that one of them died, but I didn't realise the rest of it.'

  'We've been trying to keep it out of the papers, which is why it really is very important that you don't disclose any of this.'

  The professor tapped the piece of paper. 'This is very good research. Very thorough. But why are you showing me?'

  Pau patted the papers and photos into a neat stack and considered his answer. 'It's one thing that we recognise the link between these incidents and local legends and statues, but what we don't know is how to anticipate what the perpetrator might do next. I asked Sotsinspectora Domènech, my superior, if I could approach you as this is your area of expertise. We want to know if you can see more of a link than we can. If there appears to be any sequence to the incidents. Basically, so we can attempt to predict the attacker's next move.'

  Marsans took the papers from Pau's hand and laid them out in order. His voice was more confident. 'Of course, these are legends and carvings about which we know very little. There's no way we could determine any chronology with them. As you say, the Bou d'Or legend has constantly been updated and changed, primarily by word of mouth, so we don't really know the exact source, age or meaning. And the origin of the vampire carving is largely unknown, let alone its original sense. While the Majordoma legend is of very recent creation.'

  'I appreciate it's difficult for you to see a link here and now, but we'd be very grateful if you could consider what I've shown you in case more of a connection does occur to you. We really do need to try and find some way of predicting what to expect next.'

  'I will,' Marsans said, 'but initially, I must say I don't see that it's going to be possible to map out any timeline given the nature of the use of legends and carvings. I don’t know how much help I’ll be.'

  Pau appeared to be taking a decision for a moment and then took another series of papers and photos out of the folder. Marsans looked at him quizzically.

  'There may be more.' Pau showed a photo of Daniel Masó hanging from the balcony. 'We think this might have been the first incident.'

  Marsans studied the picture and asked what the link was.

  'He was found near Carrer Ciutadans with his nose cut off.'

  Marsans looked up at Pau. 'En Banyeta.'

  'That's what we thought.'

  Chapter Forty Two

  Elisenda looked out of the French windows at a peaceful view across a shaded garden of beech and holm oak towards the volcanic mountains in the distance. Through the door the other side of the kitchen, the rest of the downstairs in the house in Santa Pau had proved to b
e an expansive living and dining room, with more new but classical leather and mahogany and a wide picture window overlooking the valley.

  She sighed and turned back to the man seated on a dark brown sofa.

  'We knew to expect you, Sotsinspectora Domènech,' the man told her.

  Àlex walked quietly into the room and was as surprised as Elisenda had been to see the man waiting for them.

  'Ah, Sergent Albiol,' Gerard Bellsolà continued. 'Find anything on your illegal search upstairs?'

  'We smelt burning,' Elisenda commented, shrugging the lawyer off. 'How did you know to expect us?'

  Bellsolà didn't answer her question. 'I simply waited here to inform you that my client is no longer here …'

  'Your client? You find yourself in the oddest of places.'

  '… and to inform you that you can expect to receive an official complaint for your harassment of my client.'

  'Or doing our duty as police officers by interviewing the next-of-kin of a victim of a crime to attempt to stop any further attacks, as I prefer to call it.'

  'I'd like you to leave now, Sotsinspectora.' Bellsolà got up from the sofa and picked up his briefcase from the huge coffee table in front of it.

  'I will find out who this woman is,' Elisenda told him. 'To protect her and her son.'

  ' Good day, Sotsinspectora.' Bellsolà waited until Elisenda and Àlex had begun to leave and followed them out, locking the door.

  Àlex glowered as the lawyer scuttled off along the cobbles and muttered to Elisenda. 'This is a bizarre case, when a victim's family is as reluctant to be found as the perpetrator.'

  Elisenda watched Bellsolà disappear towards the small village square. 'Is it her that doesn't want to be found, though? It seems a lot of people are reluctant for us to do our job properly.'

  *

  The drive back to Girona after the failed attempt to find the woman in the DVD had lost much of its pastoral charm. Àlex's mobile was in the coin tray between the two front seats and started ringing, the vibration sending it skittering around the smooth plastic hollow, breaking the silence.

  In the passenger seat, Elisenda picked up the phone and looked at the caller ID. Laura Puigmal. 'Hi, Laura, it's Elisenda,' she answered. She looked across at Àlex, staring at the road ahead. 'No, sorry, he's driving at the moment. Can I help?' She listened for a moment before speaking again, her face steadily more serious. 'Thanks for letting us know, Laura. I'll tell him now.' She hung up and replaced the phone in the coin tray.

  'What is it?' Àlex asked.

  'You aren't going to be pleased.' She paused while he overtook a small flatbed lorry carrying twisted skeins of rusting scrap metal. 'The three muggers that are left were all released on bail this morning.'

  Àlex was silent for a moment. When he spoke, his voice was surprisingly calm. 'And we wonder why someone's taking the law into their own hands.'

  Elisenda didn't have the energy to reply to that.

  'Do you ever get the feeling we're making it all up as we go along?'

  Àlex took his eyes off the road for a moment to glance at her. 'Because we're a new police force, you mean? To all intents and purposes, anyway.'

  'We're having to create everything anew.'

  'And that's a bad thing? Look at what came before us. We can't do much worse.'

  Elisenda nodded slowly and sat in silence for a moment, staring at the white lines in the middle of the road being engulfed by the car's steady pace.

  'Did Josep find out any more from the muggers?' Àlex asked after a few minutes.

  'Nothing. They reckon they didn't see a thing. One of them didn't even react when Josep asked him about the white van. He hadn't even noticed it.'

  Elisenda's mobile rang this time and she picked it up from next to Àlex's in the coin tray. Pau's name was displayed on the screen.

  'Got some news for me, Pau?' Elisenda asked him, switching the phone to loudspeaker.

  'The white van, Sotsinspectora, it's only just come up now because it wasn't reported stolen until after the weekend. I'd been looking for incidents before the day of the attack on the muggers and the owner claims he hadn't realised it was missing until Seguretat Ciutadana told him it had been found.'

  'Where was it found?'

  'Out past Salt, on a piece of land after the motorway flyover. Completely burnt out. One thing, Sotsinspectora, the owner's Joaquim Masó.'

  'Joaquim Masó?' Elisenda repeated, stunned. 'Good work, Pau,' she added and hung up.

  She looked at the green-blue sheen of the lake in Banyoles coming into view ahead of them. 'Welcome back into the fold.'

  Pau had more news for them when they got back to Vista Alegre.

  But first Elisenda asked him to pay a visit to Mossèn Arnau, the priest who'd given them the address of the house in the mountains.

  'Bellsolà knew we were on our way,' she explained. 'I want to know how. See what you can find out from Arnau.'

  Pau then showed them an e-mail from Octavi Marsans, in which the lecturer both wholeheartedly and evidentially endorsed their legends theory.

  'Excellent,' commented Elisenda, flicking through the pages and pages of notes the lecturer had sent to them.

  'I did mention Daniel Masó as well,' Pau told her, a little nervously. 'About the way he was staged.'

  'What did Marsans say?'

  'It's all there in his report,' Pau said, gesturing at the papers. 'He agrees with us. What he doesn't do is give any indication of who the next victim might be or even what legend might be used next. He said it was impossible to predict given the uncertain backgrounds of the stories and the different interpretations that there are of them.'

  'Pity,' Elisenda muttered, 'but not surprising. I've been thinking of all the legends and I really can't find any order of any sort.'

  'There's really no way to narrow them down?' Àlex asked.

  Elisenda shook her head. 'This is Girona. He's not going to run out of material any day soon.'

  She and Pau looked at each other, aware of the implications of what she was saying.

  Pau turned to face Àlex and started listing them for his benefit. 'El Tarlà, the jester who entertained the people during the plague. Hanging by his arms over the streets. The lioness's arse. Kiss it and you return to Girona. The witch on the cathedral walls. Turned to stone because she threw pebbles at religious processions. Charlemagne's sword. Charlemagne's chair. The snake at Pericot fountain. The flies from Sant Narcís's tomb. Shall I carry on?'

  'No,' Àlex told him. 'Please.'

  Elisenda stared at Pau. 'Sant Narcís's tomb. The next major event is Sant Narcís's Day. That's it. That's the next victim. He won't let an opportunity like that go by.'

  Pau looked straight back at her and began to nod slowly in agreement.

  'Why?' Àlex asked her. 'What's the legend?'

  'One of the times the city was laid siege by the French. A swarm of flies is supposed to have come out of the saint's tomb in the cathedral and driven the French away. That's why he's the city's patron saint. With the Sant Narcís festivities coming up, it has to be the next attack.'

  'So who would the victim be? Someone French?'

  'Someone our man thinks is besieging the city,' Elisenda replied. 'A tourist?'

  Pau looked at them both. 'Or an immigrant?'

  Elisenda closed her eyes and swore. 'Please not that.'

  'You have to go to Puigventós with this,' Àlex told her. 'But you'll never convince him.'

  Elisenda picked up Marsans' notes. 'At least I can take this to him. Give him some reasons why we think another attack's going to coincide with Sant Narcís. And argue our corner to have Masó included in the investigation.'

  Pau and Àlex shared a glance as Elisenda made to leave the room to see Puigventós.

  'There's just one other problem,' she added. 'Sant Narcís's Day lasts ten days.'

  *

  'Do you have any idea what you're asking, Elisenda?' Puigventós complained once she'd finished relating
the theory of the legends and the credence that Professor Marsans had given to it and explained how she felt that there would be an attack to coincide with the saint's festival. She hadn't yet mentioned anything about Masó. 'We're talking mobilising all the Seguretat Ciutadana, the other criminal investigation units, cancelling all leave, back-up from the regional support unit. For ten days. Right across the city. And all without panicking the public.' He shook his head and stared out of the window. 'On the basis of a few fairy tales.'

  'I think the attack's likely to be either on Sant Narcís's Day, the evening before or the day after. Those are the three key dates. We really need to concentrate our efforts on those three days. That's all.'

  Puigventós gave her a bleak look. 'That's all?' He skimmed through Marsans' notes again. 'If this goes wrong, Elisenda, you will make us a laughing stock.'

  'I know that, Xavier.'

  He stared directly at her for what seemed an age. 'Yes,' he finally consented. 'But I will add that I'm not entirely happy you've brought in help from this Professor. It's not at all standard practice. I hope you can trust him.'

  'There's one other thing. We showed some of the details of the Masó case to Professor Marsans. Like us, he saw a connection between the murder and a local legend.'

  Puigventós sighed. 'Please, Elisenda.'

  'I still feel it ties in. I firmly believe we're looking for the same perpetrator. The similarities and the arguments are too strong for it not to be linked.'

  'Look, Elisenda, I really have to disagree with you on this. We can't start seeing serial killers in every crime that happens in Girona. Things are bad enough without seeing mass murderers in the streets.' The inspector considered her. Disconcerted by his gaze, Elisenda finally realised that it was simply a case that Puigventós just didn't want to contemplate the idea of any form of serial murders in the city for fear of the panic, the press and the scrutiny. And for his own career, the thought occurred to her. Far easier to have a series of isolated murders than the thought of someone who was prepared to kill targeting individuals in a cold and systematic way. And all the political fallout that that would entail.