Corruption's Price: A Spanish Deceit

by Charles Brett

  "I think we should. I suspect you're a lucky man. I want to learn more."

  Saturday: Davide

  Davide, Caterina and Emilia left the piso in Malasaña to visit the bar in Huertas to meet Felipe and Ana. The original plan for Friday evening had turned out to be unworkable for reasons that were unclear to Caterina and Emilia. To Davide it made little difference which evening they met though he had agreed that it was probably an opportunity for some 'team building'.

  Although an autumn evening, it was still warm enough to render coats unnecessary. Davide had only a light jersey around his shoulders, just in case they went anywhere with over-powerful air conditioning, a not uncommon hazard in Madrid.

  Davide had estimated the walk to be no more than twenty minutes. They had chosen to go on foot rather trying to make connections via the Metro or adopting the laziness of taking a taxi. "Returning home may be different," had been Davide's last thought on the matter before setting out. His Australians had agreed.

  As they walked along Emilia grumbled, "The one thing that sort of puzzles me are our numbers: two men and three women."

  "That's never bothered you before," was Caterina's matter-of-fact rejoinder, attracting a snarky look from Emilia.

  Over the past couple of weeks Davide had grown used to their ongoing, low level mutual antagonism. There always seemed to be a subtext that he never could quite work out. The two constants seemed to be that Caterina thought that Emilia had strange tastes in people, or something like that, while Emilia considered Caterina a prude. Never having visited Australia, never mind attending an Australian university, he was unsure whether this was some strange Aussie social ritual in which he was forever fated to be the outsider, or if it was one of those peculiar manifestations by which good friends demonstrate their affection for each other. Certainly, though the tone was invariably gently malicious, there seemed to be no persistent fall-out, fund of ill-will or dislike to prevent them from working or even living together. It was rather the opposite.

  In some ways they were like two perennially complaining neighbours or sisters who could no more agree on anything than do without each other. At one stage, though by now he had pretty much dismissed this, he had even wondered if Emilia had fancied Caterina for years but was unable to say anything, while Caterina could not see it or refused to acknowledge the possibility, perhaps as a way to avoid having to say no, or perhaps yes.

  As they walked through Sol he half-listened to their banter. It occurred to him that this explanation might explain some part of Caterina's behaviour to him in Rome, except for that one evening she had 'thrown' herself at him. In Madrid she had continued to be as equally proper as in Italy, apart from her arrival hug at the airport which he considered her one truly spontaneous action.

  Odd, odder and odder still. He remained confused. He had no real idea what to do or what was going to happen, or even what he wanted to happen. At this rate Caterina and Emilia would finish up at ORS and leave Madrid before any resolution, desirable or otherwise.

  Yet, over the past fortnight, Davide had enough self-awareness to acknowledge he would be sorrier than he liked to see them go, especially Caterina. His regard for her only went up, certainly professionally but also personally. Regarding Emilia, he was ambivalent. But, whereas Davide felt able to praise and encourage Caterina's work, he felt utterly incapable of saying anything personal to her.

  Three times she had frozen him out. If that wasn't clear enough, what was? Instinctively he felt it was up to her to act, not him. Internally he sighed. There might never be a good conclusion to this.

  His mental wanderings were interrupted by Emilia.

  "Davide, where do we go from here?"

  "I'm pretty sure we should take the second street on the right, if that is calle del Principe. That should take us to plaza de Santa Ana, which is where Felipe and I agreed to meet him and Ana. It's not far now. By the way, do either of you know if Felipe and Ana are an item outside the office?"

  Both women were pretty sure that they were not. Davide asked why they seemed so sure. Caterina and Emilia exchanged glances, smiling that infuriating secret all-knowing look they often shared.

  "Call it girl's intuition," replied Emilia. "No, we're not being totally fair. We've asked ourselves the same question yet neither of us have seen any of the usual signs that would indicate affection or intimacy. It's more like a distant tolerance. Plus, don't forget she must be 20 cm or more taller than him, something I don't think Felipe finds easy to handle in a woman, however attractive. In any case, why do you ask? Do you fancy her yourself?"

  "Emilia!" expostulated Caterina.

  Davide continued, without noticing the catch in Caterina's voice: "You're probably right. Being a man I hadn't really thought of it like that. Yet I do find the association, for want of a better description, between them strange, even knowing that she's a very distant relative of one of the owners of ORS. There always seems to be a tension between them. Could it be that he thinks he ought to be interested in the boss' relative even though he isn't? Maybe she finds herself in the same boat in reverse? Or am I being too clever by half?"

  Emilia said, "I guess it could be. Maybe we'll know more by the end of the evening. From what Felipe has occasionally mentioned to us, his focus is more around those he encounters at his fitness sessions in the Retiro. I sort of feel he wants to leave his Mexican/Spanish roots behind. It's native English-speaking girls that seem to attract his attentions, especially Americans. He's not comfortable with us either, despite our best efforts."

  "Intriguing. I hadn't picked up on that. Felipe mentions these Retiro gatherings more as exercise sessions rather than anything else. I know he runs a lot because he's always asking me to join him. I went once. While I enjoy an occasional jog, this was way too much like hard work. All he wanted to do was run, run, run, with no talking or any sense of pleasure or of taking in what we were running past. One time was enough for me.

  "Anyhow, as you say, I'm sure that we're going to find this evening illuminating. Before you two arrived there were no evening invitations for me, only business lunches and the running. Not that I objected or object, if the truth be known."

  "Is that them?" asked Caterina, pointing to a trio heading across the far side of the plaza they were entering. "If so, they're really dressed up, especially Ana. My God! Look at her! That has to be a designer dress. With those heels she must be 30 cm taller than Felipe. He looks a midget. Is that Alberto with them?"

  "Oh no!" wailed Emilia. "Caterina, you said we should dress relaxed and informal. She certainly isn't, especially in that dress. I'm a disaster by comparison. What have you done?"

  "Nothing! I didn't suggest 'relaxed and informal.' I was only repeating Felipe's exact words."

  Davide smiled to himself. Women! So ostentatiously uncompetitive until they were on display. "Remember what I said about tío Toño. You're in Spain. Looking good is an art form as well as an opportunity."

  Personally he preferred the simplicity of both the Australians to Ana's medium-short dress with its intense black on the left and dazzling white on the right. She wore it with aplomb. That she had long, well-shaped legs that were a treat to behold meant half the plaza was already admiring her. Davide had not realised just how good looking she was. The evening was already interesting and it had barely started.

  Saturday: Soria

  Marta was glad that she and Alfredo had decided to ask Puri to join them again for dinner. For her it had seemed the least she could do, especially once she had learnt, after visiting Laguna Negra high under the Picos de Urbión, that Puri had little interest in Alfredo's political ambitions though she was vitally aware of all that he had achieved – and failed at – over the past decade.

  When Marta and Puri had walked around the edge of the lake, looking at the steep steel-grey cliffs, Puri had divulged more. The picture that reached Marta was in many ways Alfredo and Puri were as much partners as lovers. Marta hoped that this would make it easier to open up abo
ut the ORS situation. The idea of a third set of eyes had both comforted and discomforted. At least, as they walked and talked while Alfredo prepared dinner, she and Puri had agreed not to open the topic until after dinner.

  With another good meal inside them they moved to what Alfredo called his library. It was a rather masculine and unusual room, with four armchairs but no sofas, gathered around a Scandinavian wood-burning stove. This apparently also heated his bedroom and bathroom upstairs. It had emerged that, with Puri's guidance and encouragement, he had invested in various forms of energy efficiency, diminishing the need for electricity, something that reduced the bills and could be depended on in winter.

  After dinner the subject of ORS was awoken. While initially reluctant to describe what had occurred in the past, Marta found herself being quizzed more by Puri than Alfredo, and saying much more than intended. She talked through how she'd worked with several organisations, including in the past with Alfredo's law firm, though did not name the others. She described how one owner had decided to repay everything that ORS demanded, one was refusing to pay anything, one was still on a cruise, one was in denial and one had yet to decide. Additionally, there was Alfredo's law firm's decision that she had yet to hear. She looked expectantly at Alfredo. He was giving nothing away.

  Puri was unrelenting. What were these monies and why did ORS think that they represented overpayments or the failure to refund credit notes?

  Marta was about to explain when Alfredo interrupted, taking Puri through how various businesses and individuals had in the past developed some creative accounting so that they could quietly funnel money from their selected businesses to chosen institutions or individuals, like Marta, to shape favourable decisions. Though he did not put it quite so indelicately, what he described – to Puri's ears – was the purchase of business or political results in order to ensure that this contract would be awarded at that price, or a vote here would favour some new building development, or somebody would be appointed to an influential position.

  Puri was blunt: ''This sounds like corruption. Am I right?"

  Alfredo tried to deflect her, referring to these events as being part of the past. He described 'habits' that had formed long before as well as during Franco's rule, which persisted through the transición to democracy as Spain developed and caught up with the rest of Europe. Subsequently, all were overtaken by the arrival of la crisis, the financial meltdown of 2008 and 2009, with its subsequent economic implosion in Spain as its property bubble burst. He spoke soothing, unconfrontational lawyers' words.

  They were, unfortunately, inadequate to quieten Puri. She returned her eyes to Marta to enquire, not a little acidly, what her role in all this was. Marta found Puri's focus not easily resisted. There was a calm that demanded honesty.

  "I was one of a number of what you might call bag carriers or envelope stuffers. In my case it was for my major clients, one being Alfredo's firm."

  Marta hesitated, unsure what to add.

  "Continue," commanded Puri.

  "I effectively assisted in arranging for double invoices to be paid, for credit notes not to be refunded to their due owners but instead be cashed in, and for the excess monies obtained to be deposited with me. It was my role to distribute those monies to whomever my clients were seeking to influence, sometimes paying for promotional events or delivering unmarked envelopes full of cash. Remember that at one stage the European Central Bank believed that the greatest proportion of 500 euro notes in circulation was in Spain. From personal experience I can believe this. I found those notes discreetly compact and, being cash, they were pretty much untraceable."

  "I'm not sure I believe what I'm hearing. You really did this?"

  "Yes," confirmed Alfredo. "You must understand what I said earlier. This was primarily a legacy from Franco's era. It was how 'things were arranged' then. It passed through to the democracy that Spain became after the new constitution was approved in 1978. Originally small beer it grew increasingly significant. Not for nothing were some politicians known, like that one in Pakistan, as Señor 2 per cent, or 3 per cent, or even 4 per cent, depending on how greedy they were."

  "I'm flabbergasted. I can't take this in. I'm clearly a stupid, naïve taxpayer and voter. Let's change the subject."

  Puri withdrew into herself.

  Neither Marta nor Alfredo knew how to continue. They looked bleakly at each other, aware that this was not the reaction either had expected. Plus Puri still had not asked the most vital of questions: which individuals had benefitted?

  Thus far all had been generic. Her innocence was not likely to continue.

  Saturday: Madrid

  As Caterina, Emilia and Davide headed across the Plaza, Felipe turned and, on seeing them approach, remarked to his own companions, "Here they are."

  Ana swivelled to greet Davide with a warm smile and affectionate kisses on both cheeks. She did the same with Caterina and Emilia, though with noticeably less warmth. Davide shook hands with Felipe and Alberto as the latter did with Davide's companions.

  "Your timing is excellent. I've booked us a table at a restaurante around the corner. Ana says it is highly recommended by her family and not excessively expensive – at least for this part of Madrid. She suggests we go to a bar and have a drink beforehand because we can't eat before 10 p.m. In Texas we'd be in bed by then. Not here. It amazes me."

  Without waiting any further he placed himself between Emilia and Caterina, grabbed an arm from each and almost frog marched them, with Alberto, towards the nearest bar, chatting away.

  Davide was left with Ana. Rather than copy Felipe's technique he preferred to offer his arm, which was gracefully accepted. They followed the others slowly with Davide unsure whether it was her shoes or some deliberate reticence on Ana's part.

  They both spoke at the same moment.

  "Davide, might –"

  "Your shoes –"

  They stopped, facing each other.

  "Please, Ana, continue. I interrupted."

  "If you interrupted, so did I. I want to thank you and ask for your help."

  Davide regarded her with surprise.

  "I don't mind working for ORS," continued Ana. "In many ways Felipe is considerate. But please understand, I have no 'interest' in Felipe. Yet I have the distinct feeling that he is, or more likely thinks he should be, interested in me. In truth I dressed up like this with these monster heels just so I could tower over him, hopefully putting him off once and for all. This isn't the first time he's asked me out to dinner though it is the first time when it wouldn't have been just us two. If you can in any way encourage him to look elsewhere I'd be so grateful."

  She smiled defensively.

  Davide saw her in a new light. She was right. Her shoes were spectacularly tall. She was now marginally taller than he, while her half black, half white dress was definitely a statement in itself, as well making the best of her slender figure. How she could walk at all in those shoes he didn't know. Yet he now felt he understood something better.

  "If you'll allow me to say so, you look muy, muy elegante – far too elegant and sophisticated for the particular Texas-boy that I perceive Felipe to be. Even our Australian friends, I shouldn't tell you, are furious. You have convincingly, at least in their eyes, hidden them in your shadow. That is a stunning dress! How you can move at all in those shoes I don't know.

  "However, relax. I don't think you'll have any problems with Felipe. After appearing as you have this evening, I'm pretty sure he won't bother you in future. My reading of Felipe, and this is also true of Emilia and Caterina, is that he's looking for somebody closer to home, probably an American. If you like, I can try suggesting something to him to root your unpreference in concrete."

  Not wanting to offend Ana, Davide omitted Emilia and Caterina's comments regarding native English-speakers. He didn't want to cause offence.

  "Your compliments are gracious, Davide, while your confidence is reassuring. It's not that I dislike Felipe. In many ways I respect h
im for accepting the challenge of establishing a business over here, for moving to Spain and wanting to learn. Spain isn't easy. You are also perceptive about the shoes. They aren't comfortable. I only bought them to try to solve this situation once and for all. If you're able to do anything to discourage him long-term, that would be great.

  "Also, if I do say so myself, you look more Spanish this evening than I thought any Englishman could ever do. I'm surprised that Emilia or Caterina are not all over you. Why aren't they? Do they take you for granted? If so, they're mad, locas."

  Davide flushed.

  As they walked towards the bar, he explained about tío Toño and Ángela and their conspiracy to upgrade his clothes sense to what tío Toño thought he ought to be. Ana giggled in amusement, a sound which Davide found discomfortingly simpatico. Was he really becoming more Spanish?

  They entered the bar to find the other four standing around an upturned wine barrel already equipped with glasses, a bottle of Cava and a selection of small tapas with some fat-looking olives dripping in oil. The accompanying fresh bread almost steamed with its heat.

  Having passed a glass each to Ana and Davide, Felipe did the honours and, seeing that filling six copas de vino had emptied the bottle, he waved to a passing waiter to order another.

  Felipe said, "What do you think of this place? Cute, isn't it?"

  Where Ana, Davide and Caterina cringed in their different ways, and Alberto's face offered no expression at all, Emilia offered enthusiastic agreement. To Ana and Caterina's relief, Emilia was turning her attentions, at least this evening, fully on Felipe. He looked ripe to succumb.

  "What were you and Ana discussing that took so long?" Caterina asked Davide.

  The truth was Caterina felt uncomfortable in Ana's company. She felt diminished beside 'that dress' (even though she wished she could have had the nerve to buy it, knowing full well that this would require more bravery than she possessed, yet sure it would suit her).