Summer Can Kill - Cover

Summer Can Kill

Copyright© 2008 by satyricon.21

Chapter 11

Tuesday 8.00pm

Nearly a week now. He'd been looking for an escape route, but there hadn't been time, and now the road had closed. The smiling man he'd always been a little frightened of had come to visit him. He'd known everything about the Tzekas, everything about the girl, everything about Thursday; he'd said that the girl could prepare a deposition, that the police could look at the knife again, that the letters were safe for the moment but could be accidentally published at any time. He'd mentioned his employer, and his resolve had wavered even more. Then he'd asked him to show good faith by interceding on behalf of a zoning application in Fuenlabrada. It wasn't even important, for God's sake, a change of use authorisation or some such nonsense. Worse, he'd ordered him, ordered, no less, to go to that fool Roberto's party, at that club. He shuddered at the thought of the women pawing at him, their fat udders heaving as they laughed slyly, winking at each other as they doubted his potency. He'd taken to keeping his shotgun by his bed, in case they tried to break in. He wasn't sure who they might be but it helped him feel calmer. He grimaced as cramps twisted his belly again.


As I went into the club I checked myself in the polished-glass doors. My reflection looked apprehensive. Try to do something about that. The rest of me was fine. The doorman dived for the phone as I sauntered past him and when the lift-doors opened Saskia was there.

'Señor Herrera will join you shortly. He asked me to convey his apologies and to tell you that I am at your service.' She raised my hand to her breast. 'Completely.' Jesus, do they only have one script?

'Mahou with the top on and a pack of Fortuna, please. The rest is already spoken for, I'm afraid.' She looked amused.

'I didn't think you would.'

'Thank you for understanding.' She smiled politely. Not many Spanish people are long on irony. I tried to imagine what would happen if I asked for a nice cup of tea and a scone.

'Señor Herrera said that you were to be seated in his booth.' I sat and looked around. The place wasn't full. Happy Hour seemed to be a rolling floor-show of inventive lingerie. Girls came and went, leaning over the tables to display themselves. Saskia reappeared with a tray and unloaded it. As she turned to leave I stopped her.

'Please tell your colleagues I'm not in season at present.' She smothered a smile.

'I told them already. It's a shame, because everyone wants to see you close up. Do you know that you're the first guest Señor Herrera has had since I've been here? And you've been here with Señora Mercedes too.' The professional mask slipped back into place. 'I'll tell the staff, sir. Enjoy your drink.' I sipped my beer and lit a Fortuna. If I kept on coming here I'd have a large collection of Zippos, a nasty cough, and a reputation for celibacy. Agustín's first ever guest?

I was collecting covert glances again and tried to ignore them, but it's difficult to remain at ease when you're waiting for a hit-man to arrive and threaten you. When one guy in particular allowed his curiosity to become too obvious I beckoned a hostess.

'Could you tell the fat gentleman at the table by the bar that I hate being stared at? I came here to see Señor Herrera, not to be part of the cabaret.'

She hurried off and I watched with discreet interest as Saskia approached the gawper and sat down next to him. He turned his head and she leaned over and whispered to him. After a moment he hitched his chair round so that his back was half-turned to me. She began to nibble his ear, and another hostess appeared with a bottle of champagne. The fat guy and Saskia drank and he seemed keen to look everywhere but at me.

I was on my second beer when Agustín arrived. He was dressed in a cream summer suit with an open-necked shirt, and gold glinted discreetly at his neck and wrist. We shook hands.

'I'm sorry I'm late, Alex; I hope they've been looking after you properly.' Ever the genial host.

'You probably arrived ten minutes ago and got a full report, Agustín, ' I said affably. He smiled thinly.

'It's a long time since I've met anyone like you.' Flannel. 'You refuse the services of the house and have no qualms about threatening the clients. You interest Señor Martínez and you appear to have captivated Mercedes, so now I too feel the need to get to know you better. Are you sure that beer is all you want?'

'Mostly it's what I drink. Spirits drive me into a coma and my palate isn't good enough for quality wine.' A hostess appeared with a gin and tonic. Agustín took it and drank.

'Mix them long and sip them slow. That's the secret with spirits. You're in quite good shape for a person who drinks mainly beer. You go to a gym, I suppose?'

'When the mirror seems too small. You'll excuse me, but I'm very bad at small talk. I think we're here because you care for Mercedes. Tell me if I'm wrong.' He took another sip of G&T.

'You can do small talk perfectly well when you want to. You're quite right: I care for her, as does Señor Martínez, but I'd like this conversation to be pleasure as well as business. I must say, for a foreign amateur you've managed to create quite a stir.' He extracted a sheet of paper from his pocket. 'Let's see, Alexander Paul Royston, still just the right side of thirty, decent degree, normal life till three years ago, chucked in a good job and came to Spain, taught for blah blah, address blah blah, although no-one seems to know where you actually lay your head at present, prepaid phone, no utility bills in that name, in fact no paper-trail at all, except for bank statements which go to a PO box in Fuencarral, for God's sake. A careful fellow, but that's no crime. You know you're playing with fire, but it doesn't seem to worry you, and you keep trying to enforce your own agenda. You'll be glad to know that I've got my car back from the bodyshop. You cut me off very neatly for an amateur.' Where did you find out all that, and how come you haven't found out about the hostal, and supposing you have and you're not saying? I realised guiltily that since Pilar had gone back to her flat I hadn't looked behind me much.

'All public knowledge, Agustín. Now me, I know a little about you as well, and I'm not suicidal. I've done everything I said I'd do, and I haven't tried to cheat Señor Martínez, so tell me why we're both interrupting our evenings.' He was quiet for a moment, then raised his hand. A hostess appeared.

'Would you like something to eat, Alex? I think I'm going to have an omelette and maybe pick at a salad. A half-bottle of wine perhaps.' He ran his hand absent-mindedly over the girl's buttocks as he spoke.

'Nothing, thank you.' He took his hand away from the girl's body and rubbed his forehead.

'Who Mercedes invites into her bed is her business. It doesn't happen often and is no concern of mine, but I feel you should know I will not tolerate your using her, nor abusing what she offers freely.' Dear God, another older brother.

'Does Mercedes know we're here talking about her?' Astonishingly, he looked uncomfortable.

'We live in unusual times. There's been a great deal of activity going on since you took such a dislike to the Tzeka family. My workload will increase, as will Mercedes', and she's showing signs of distraction, thanks mainly to you. And now you are distracting me.' Don't back away.

'Umm. So once all the checks and balances are in place, money will pass through Señor Martínez' hands in greater quantities and his influence will count for that much more. You're the checks and Mercedes looks after the balances. I don't know what I can say to reassure you.'

The hostess brought his food and I stubbed out my cigarette. He nodded his thanks and began to eat hungrily. I sat watching the floor-show.

'You're not really interested in all this, are you?' he said after a while.

'It's an upmarket clip-joint.' He almost smiled.

'The chalets and the flats produce a vulgarly large income, and the hotel will too, and there are percentages, and rents, and fees, and other sources, but this particular operation is more of an insurance scheme. It covers its costs one way and another. Pearls before influential swine, one might say'

'Why are you bothering to tell me, Agustín? Do you want us to be friends?' He grimaced.

'God forbid, but neither do I want to be enemies. Alex, I need to ask if you know what is making her unhappy. I can't believe that it's you. You're too soft to risk those two sluts in the clinic, but you spent nearly three hours with her today and you must have talked. You can't have been in bed the whole time.' Were you watching her or me?

'Agustín, all I know is what I see: she's beautiful, she's from a good family, she's frighteningly efficient and she doesn't talk about herself. Why don't you ask her?' He pushed his plate away.

'I've known her for twelve years, ' he said wryly, 'and I probably know her less than you. I'm not sure you understand how little I know her. She's a dream to work with, she's the hardest bitch in Madrid when she needs to be, and she's a closed book. It's frustrating.' He offered a twisted smile. 'My normal ways of obtaining information aren't appropriate.' You poor bastard. You're a little bit in love with her, and you don't know it.

'Agustín, I'll tell you that we didn't talk about Señor Martínez' business, that all of it was personal, and that we're not planning to elope.' He gnawed at a thumbnail.

'Something's knocked her off track; there's nothing about you that should affect her like this, so it must be something from her past.' Bull's eye, old boy, but I'm not saying anything about that to you. 'Alex, I'm not used to asking for favours, but if you find out what's troubling her and it's something I can help her with, I'd be grateful if you would tell me.' He looked almost forlorn, and I wondered how far he would go. If he was prepared to whack Álvaro as a favour to Mercedes, problem solved. A bit soon to ask.

'Do you mind her knowing that we've talked?' His neck muscles stiffened and when he replied his voice was cold again.

'Be careful, Alex. You are admirably direct, and I respect that, but don't mistake courtesy for weakness. Thank you for agreeing to meet.' You really don't want this guy to dislike you.

'I'm sorry I was abrupt, Agustín, and I'm glad to have spoken with you. Don't be surprised if I call you.' We shook hands again and a hostess escorted me out.

Why no threats? He hadn't mentioned Pilar, Elena and Monica only got a passing nod, he hadn't tried to warn me off the territory. Kid-gloves, even when I'd pushed him. Too difficult. I wanted contact with an ordinary human being and there was only one obvious candidate. I walked slowly down Castellana trying to fit pieces together.


When I arrived at the hostal a scene of genteel debauchery met my eyes. Pilar and Anita were sitting on the sofa and Ian and Lizzy were perched on an armchair. A bottle of champagne stood on the coffee-table and a plate of something half-eaten was next to it. Pilar jumped up and hugged me. Her breath was warm in my ear as she whispered.

'You're just in time. There's one glass left. Ian and Lizzy are checking out tomorrow and they wanted to say thank you properly. They're so dull; it's been completely awful.' Good job they didn't speak Spanish. I sipped and chatted and smiled and when Lizzy said yet again that their plane was an early one I suggested Anita check them out immediately so there was no hanging about in the morning. The three of them moved to the desk and I slipped onto the sofa. Pilar stroked my neck.

'You look as if you're thinking about something else completely.' I swung round and put my head in her lap.

'I need to tell you about today. My place or yours?'

Mine please, ' she said. 'I need to say hello to it and there are clean clothes and things. I'll be glad to get home. I can't think how you don't get bored.'

'Boring is interesting if you do it right.' Anita had finished with Ian and Lizzy, and the three of them were smiling at each other in the way that people do when they've accomplished something despite a language barrier.

'Anita, Pilar and I are taking off. I'm going to see Miguel tomorrow and sell the new arrangement to him. When I've done that I'll come back here and tell you, vale?' I ran my hand over the worn patch of varnish on the coffee-table and stood up. 'And what's more I'm starving.'

There was a lot of promiscuous kissing as Ian and Lizzy showed off their new knowledge of Spanish customs, and Anita and Pilar had to discuss the morning, so it was twenty minutes before we escaped.

'Have you got food at your place?' I asked.

'I was planning for us to be domestic. What's got you so wired?'

'Except for you my life is wired like the Western Front. I want to change, and then eat and talk, and then sweep you off to bed.' She tugged my ear.

'That's fine, but I'm off the menu for a bit. My period started this afternoon. Maybe if you're very good I'll sort you out on account.' She put her hand to her mouth. 'I can't believe I said that. I hope the rest of the English aren't like you or I'll spend my whole time there on my back.'

'Or your knees. Where's the car?'


At her flat she showered, and I pottered in the kitchen. I found chicken thighs and vegetables and yoghurt and fruit, and when she emerged I was in the middle of the creative process. She sniffed appreciatively.

'What's it going to be?'

'Not sure yet. I put wine in the fridge.' She blew me a kiss.

'What's this? Fruit and yoghurt goop?'

'Dessert. Pour us some wine and sit on the stool.' The story lasted through the preparations and the meal as well. When I'd finished she jerked a thumb at the bedroom. 'Go and shower quickly. I'll pile all this in the sink.' I was lying on the bed, still damp, when she came in. She went to the bathroom and cleaned her teeth, then began to undress.

'I feel fat. Shift yourself a bit or I'll be hanging over the edge.'

'Your bed's fine for winter, but in summer it's a bit small.'

'And you're fine in summer but I'm worried that in winter you'll be a bit small. Don't be rude about my furnishings and I'll try to be polite about yours.'

'The bed's perfect. Sorry for not understanding. Can you pass me my phone? I should tell Mercedes that Agustín is sniffing round.' She handed me the phone.

'Wait a minute. What did you feel when she tried to ... whatever, seduce you?'

'I don't think she understands relationships very well, so she tries to act out what she's seen in films, and it doesn't quite work.'

'But were you physically aroused, like now, and is it because we're talking about her?'

'I could have become aroused if my head had been engaged. But my head's engaged with you, and I'm a one at a time guy. And I'm aroused now because you're clever and funny and hot and you smell good and you feel good and you look good and you're very close to me. What more can I say?' She ran a finger down my cheek and I thought I saw a flicker of disappointment in her eyes. Oh, shit. I can't say that.

'So why does Agustín think that you're having an affair with her?'

'He can't imagine being with a woman for anything except sex, and because of who she is she must have been the instigator, and he doesn't like that much. He's worse off than her, poor bastard, because he doesn't realise how abnormal he is.' I sighed. 'Let me get it over with. I'll put the phone on handsfree.' I pushed buttons.

'?'

'Mercedes, it's Alex. Just a quick call.' When I'd finished she was quiet for a moment.

'He's clever, isn't he? Did you tell him we were lovers?'

'He assumes we're having sex.'

'Is your girlfriend there, and have you told her all this? Of course she is and of course you have. Can I talk to her, please?' I looked at Pilar and she nodded. I switched the handsfree off, then handed her the phone and went to make tea.

After a while her voice stopped and I went back into the bedroom. She was lying on her side, looking like that painting by Goya but a lot tastier.

'Two questions, ' she said as I entered. 'Why did you leave, and why did you make tea when you know I don't really like it?'

'So you didn't feel inhibited, and because when you're in England tea will be all that's available and you'll have to drink it to be polite, and then you'll be grateful for the practice. What was the girl-talk about?' She took a sip and grimaced.

'It's sad really. She wants us to be friends. She was saying that she was sorry she'd played games today and how you'd told her to try to treat you like a friend and that she'd been thinking about it. I didn't know what to say. She sounded so ... I don't know, as if she really had been thinking about things. But I can't help wondering if really she wants to join us in a threesome with handcuffs or something. I don't want to be friends with her at all.'

'I can't quite see the two of you swapping home-hints. Apart from trying to show you how nice she is, anything interesting?'

'She said she'd try to be nicer to Agustín and she didn't know he worried about her. And I nearly said they'd make a great couple but I didn't.'

'I hope she doesn't try too hard. If she starts being Doris Day all over him twelve hours after he's opened up to me, he'll put two and two together. Maybe I'll say that when she calls tomorrow.' I put my mug down and ran my fingers down her hip. 'I'm glad you were here when I talked to her.'

'I'm glad I got in first. How come you're still aroused?'

'It's the tea. Forget Viagra. Tea is the great British aphrodisiac; tea and cricket.'

'So that's why you keep feeding it to me; I can understand that, but everyone knows cricket's a soporific. You English are strange.' She sighed exaggeratedly. 'Well, the bed really is a bit small, so anything that takes up too much room is just going to be in the way. Lie back and think of cricket.'


'You didn't have to get up, ' she said as we walked back from the bakery. The temperature was as low as it was going to be today, and Madrid wasn't quite awake. I stroked the back of her hand with my thumb. I didn't want to go and argue with Miguel, or have to talk to Mercedes again, or do anything except be with her. Take the money and run. Maybe she'll run with you.

'No problem. Doing stuff with you is nice, and I've got to do some thinking about Miguel. You can serve me juice and coffee while I print stuff out. I'll be chief executive and you can be the cute secretary.' She smiled, but wasn't really listening.

'Mum phoned yesterday and said if I leave it too long Dad will just book something and I'll be stuck with it. When would be best?'

'As early in August as possible. We should be able to get Elena out of the clinic by the end of this week, and with three nurses on tap I can't see Ilona saying no. Then when you come back we can check that everything's running smoothly and escape. I was thinking about it last night when the cricket got boring.' She shifted the bag of bread to her other hand and swung a fist at me. I dodged and she giggled.

'We're so nice together. I haven't felt happy shivers like this since I was small, and then I remember that I'm up to my ears in a sort of criminal mess with a sort of ... I mean I'm not a risk taker, not at all. Perhaps your pheromones are altering me. I wasn't thinking about cricket last night, but I did feel grateful to Elena while we were falling asleep.'

'Don't go overboard. I was already planning to ask you if you wanted extra tuition. Elena just accelerated things a bit. But at least she made sure we got a chance to see each other under stress.'

'And what am I like?'

'A bit moody and a bit jumpy but it doesn't stop you thinking, and it makes you hot, which is a bonus. And I get overcontrol and dominant, which is the same, but in a guy sort of way.' She nodded.

'Maybe when there's no stress we'll discover we've got nothing in common. Ants and grasshoppers.' You've been thinking that too, huh?

'One step at a time. What should I say to Miguel?'


By ten o'clock I had a shiny new deal. Anita would be manager, living on site. Elena and Monica would be on duty from seven to ten and again in the evening, and would receive pocket money for one person. I would supervise everything for nothing, and be responsible for the money. I felt as if I'd gone ten rounds with Condoleezza Rice. The arguments that had moved Dolores were the thought of having three slaves for the price of two and my declaration of imminent betrothal to Pilar. In fact, it had been easier than I'd dared hope, and I wondered if she and Miguel were mellowing. I texted Anita and Pilar. 'Success. Must find flat soonest, ' and had hardly put the phone back in my pocket when it rang.

'Alex?'

'Hola, Mer, how are you?'

'Harassed. Listen, he's in a bar in Ventas, opposite the Metro entrance, wondering why he's being chatted up so early. The girl will leave when you get there and the owner won't make a fuss. Can you go and talk to him?'

'On my way, Mer.'

'Tell your girlfriend thank you.' I wondered why she and Pilar were so unwilling to use each others' names.

I visited my flat for thirty seconds and ten minutes later I was paying a cab off in Ventas. The bar was exactly where Mer had said. I thought of Don Álvaro and what he did, and how this man had helped, and my faithful kernel of anger flared into life. I put one hand in my pocket as I pushed into the bar.

It was 'L' shaped, with the short arm hidden round a corner. An elderly South American was propping up the counter, reading a newspaper. He looked up as I came in but I walked past him to the angle of the 'L.' Above the back of an old fashioned booth I could see two heads.

'Hola, Alberto, ' I said. 'I've been looking for you everywhere.' I turned to the girl. 'I've got business with this guy.' She gathered her bag and got up, and I realised that she was one of the hostesses from the club. I hope she's under some heavy pressure. Alberto sat stock-still, his eyes darting round the bar as he tried to think. I thought of Elena and Monica and wanted to hurt him.

'Alberto, pay the girl. Talking to shit like you is a stomach-turner and she's earned a tip. Give her your wallet.' He didn't move, and I took my hand out of my pocket. The knife blade glinted in the dim light and he suddenly came to life, lunging forward to try and grab my wrist; I used my other hand to ram his face down hard into the table. If you're sitting in the inside seat of a narrow booth don't try to attack a guy who has room to move. I kept my weight on his neck and winked at the girl.

'Take his wallet and help yourself, then fuck off and lose your memory.' Even to my own ears I sounded vicious, and she was trembling as she moved round me and reached into his hip-pocket. His wallet yielded forty-five euros.

'Is that all?' I asked. She nodded. I had a handful of his hair and I lifted his head and banged it back on the table. 'You're a cheap bastard, Alberto, ' I told him, and rubbed his face from side to side on the rough wood. 'Off you go, darling, and don't pick up any more Galicians. They're not rich enough. Put his wallet in my pocket.' She hastened to obey; I jerked my head at her and she left. I scraped Alberto's nose along the table some more.

'Alberto, I've got you by the balls. I've got your wallet and all your ID, I can tell the cops how much you resented Niku, and can drum up a witness or two if I have to, or I can simply tell Agustín Herrera that you annoy me. He owes me a couple of favours and he deals with shit like you for breakfast. In fact I deal with shit like you for breakfast as well, but Agustín loves the work. On the other hand you did take that little girl to the hospital when she got roughed up, so that's one small point in your favour.' I put the tip of the knife to his earlobe and a bead of blood appeared. His nose was bleeding too. I banged it hard on the table once more for luck and let go of his hair. 'Now, move back into the corner and put both hands on the table and tell me how you got involved with those bloody Albanians.' He slumped back in the seat.

A friend had called him and said that there was a job going for someone who knew Madrid and could handle whores. The money sounded good and he joined the team.

'It turned to shit pretty quickly though, ' he said. 'Sadistic little bastards, hurting the girls, just for fun sometimes. I should have quit.'

'So why didn't you?'

The money, the chance to show off, the wary looks he got from the other pimps, the feeling of being part of something big. All the stuff that fills the dreams of small-minded fuckwits, plus fear.

'I saw them nearly kill a guy in Coslada. He'd been complaining about them undercutting everyone, and they'd arranged to see him. They took me to drive, and I sat in the car while they went into the bar. Then they brought him out and put him in the back, and when we were on the M40 they told me to speed up, and when we were doing about a hundred they pushed him out.' He wiped his face. Time for Mr Nice Guy.

'Alberto, what would you say to ten thousand euros?' His head jerked up.

'What do you mean?'

'All you have to do is to tell a little story, collect your money, and forget about everything. Easy.' He couldn't have been quite as stupid as he looked, because he said nothing. I looked at him hard. 'Alberto, I want you to do this, and I want to make sure you get something for doing it, but if you're silly then Agustín will come and talk to you, and you'll end up doing it for nothing instead of getting a nice little present.' His hands began to twitch slightly.

'Do what?'

'Dump that pervert in Pio XII right in the shit. Nobody likes him, and everybody will think the Albanians decided to screw him over. You'll be clean, and you'll have done me a big, profitable favour. And anyone who does me a favour is doing Agustín a favour too.' Harping on about Agustín definitely worried him.

'I don't want to. I'll go home, get a job on the boats like I used to do. I'm a Gallego and we look after our own.' Cocaine comes via Galicia.

'Paco Mateos does a lot of business in Galicia, and he's got a picture of you, and last time I saw him he said he didn't like your face at all. You know who Paco is?' His shoulders slumped again. 'You're out of your depth, Alberto. I'll give you five seconds to say yes, or your ID goes to the police and Agustín puts the word out. Do you know anyone who'd resist ten thousand and the chance to be in Agustín's good books?' He didn't have much choice.

'What do I do?'

'Sit there for a minute and listen.' I tapped the table casually with the knife as I extracted my phone. Thank God for call-back. Dialling numbers left-handed is tricky.

'Sí?'

'Cheerful cooperation I'm glad to say. I need a safe place to put him.' Pause.

'There's a freelancer who owes me. She tried to skim and I let her off, and besides, she fancies me. She'll stay quiet if I play carrots and sticks. How long for?'

'A couple of days, three maybe, and if she can entertain our new friend professionally, that would be useful. I'd like him kept busy and not thinking about leaving.' There was a snicker down the phone.

'Poor her, and poor him, too. She could stop a tank leaving if she wanted to. I'll text you the address.'

'I want this finished.'

'Me too. One other thing, Alex.'

'What?'

'I owe you.' Damn right you do.

'Yes.' I put the phone back in my pocket. 'All sorted, Alberto. We've got a nice place for you to stay and you're going to be rich. Come along.'

My phone chirruped. An address in Gran Vía. I nudged Alberto and we walked slowly down to Calle Alcalá, looking for a cab. He didn't seem to be interested in running and a little worm of suspicion tickled the back of my mind.

The flat was on the sixth floor of a refurbished building near the Plaza de España. I pressed the bell and a voice cooed at me from the speakerphone.

'Mercedes' guest.' The buzzer sounded and I nodded Alberto in. The lift was small, and I realised that he smelt rather more strongly than convention dictates. The woman who opened the door was wearing nothing but a black leather bustier and garter-belt, both designed for a smaller person. A smile was pasted to her face, and one of her front teeth was dead. Quite a lot of her bulk looked like muscle, and I wondered how she managed to cover Martínez' rent and percentage and still have enough over to buy steroids. No wonder she'd been skimming. I pushed Alberto into the flat. Don't be polite.

'You've been told what to do?' Her smile vanished.

'He stays here and he can fuck me and if he tries to leave I call... ' Her voice was an incongruously provocative contralto.

'I know who. What's your name?' The smile returned automatically.

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