Chapter 9

Saturday 10.00pm

Forty-eight hours since the nightmare began, and now everyone was pressing him. The police, questions at work, the carefully supportive phone calls from colleagues, his staff gossiping. He thought of them smirking as they told their disgusting families about the latest news from work and wanted to kill them all. He'd pulled all the strings, and the authorities were being polite, but he knew what they were thinking. The urge to lash out was unbearable. He closed his eyes and immediately the image of the man in the gutter choking, and then relaxing as the knife slid into his chest again, was replaying in full colour. But what else could he have done? He rubbed his eyelids and realised that the tic had started again. He couldn't begin to imagine how all this had happened. No-one had rung, and when he'd tried the number he'd been given there was no reply and no voice-mail. His mind scurried in the same restless circles, and he struggled to hold back tears of rage. This couldn't have happened by chance, he thought and when he found out who was trying to interfere with his plans he'd deal with them permanently. Not the politicians, nor the family, he thought, so who? The girl had distracted him and now she'd disappeared as well. Suppose the whole thing had been a set-up?

Paseo Castellana was crowded, but outside the palacete it was surprisingly quiet. One of the doormen came forward as I got out of the taxi.

'Señora Mercedes is expecting me.' He took the CPU in and I gave the cab-driver his money and followed, clutching the sportsbag. I put it down and turned to the older doorman.

'Señora Mercedes?' He shrugged.

'Leave the things here. You needn't wait.' Bullshit. I reached for my phone.

'Sí?'

'Mercedes? Alex. I'm at the club and the doorman's telling me to leave the stuff with him. Well, no fucking way. Your hands or Agustín's or I take it away again.'

'Oh, shit.' She sounded harassed. 'Alex, I'm sorry. Can you pass the phone to the doorman?'

'Mercedes, I'm beginning to feel a little paranoid. If I was jerking you about, you'd be getting very annoyed indeed.' She sighed, but I heard an edge of appreciation.

'I know. I'm going to have him show you where you can put the material in a secure locker. Then I'll tell him that you are to be treated very well indeed until I get there. Will you wait, please?' OK, but this stinks.

'No problem.' I passed the phone to the doorman. 'Señora Mercedes.' He took it gingerly.

'Sí, Señora, of course.' A film of sweat had appeared on his forehead. He grovelled some more and passed the phone back to me.

'Mercedes? Finish up what you're doing and stop getting stressed. I'll wait for an hour. That'll give you some wiggle time.' This time the sigh sounded relieved. What if I'd said no?

'Thanks, Alex. Hasta ahora.' I looked at the doorman.

'I'm very sorry, sir, I didn't realise you were a friend of the Señora's.' It's not every day that you get to watch the humbling of a petty tyrant and I gloated inwardly as they tripped over themselves to help me. The locker-room door was strong, and the lockers themselves looked secure. I shielded the door with my body and set the numbers.

Back in the lobby I gave each of them ten euros: no point in making unnecessary enemies. Doorman one dived for the phone while doorman two ushered me into the lift.

I was met by two hostesses in house-uniform. The large bar was full, and the ratio of staff to clientele was high. Personal attention, almost to the point of breastfeeding, seemed to be the preferred service-style. It was like the last days of Pompeii with mobiles.

'Mahou with the cap on and a pack of Fortuna, please, ' I said to no-one in particular. I was glad that I'd spruced myself up, but I still felt woefully underdressed. My entire outfit probably cost less than one of the ties that nearly everyone else was wearing. To hell with them: they weren't friends of Mercedes. My escort seated me in a booth and almost immediately the second one reappeared with my order. The lighter was another Zippo.

A third girl slid into the booth next to me. Her tanga was blood red, to match her nails I supposed, as there was nothing else for it to match, and her nudity was emphasised by the glitter that she'd applied to her breasts and buttocks. Heads turned to examine me. A three-girl client? A Viagra rep?

'Good evening, sir, ' she said throatily, 'I'm Saskia. We've been told to look after you to the max. Is there anything you'd like?'

'Just a little peace and quiet, please. I'm busy conserving my energy.' She got up as smoothly as she'd sat down and a few flakes of glitter swirled round her.

'If there's anything else, sir, just signal. Someone will be with you immediately.' She moved off, her ass rolling as if it was chewing toffee, and I wondered who was exploiting who here. The beer went down swiftly and I looked around. A hostess hurried towards me.

'Yes, sir?'

'Mahou with the top on, please.' She raced to the bar. A minute later Saskia reappeared.

'You're quite suspicious, aren't you?' she said as she opened the bottle.

'Nobody's fool, nobody's tool.'

I sat quietly, wondering again why Mercedes was pissing me about. I tried to loosen my neck muscles and closed my eyes to help the process. I'd turned my money over once, so there was no more to be done in that area.

It had been four-thirty by the time I got back. When I let myself in Anita's door was ajar and I tapped on it.

'Alex, you don't need to knock. You know I'm not in the shower or anything.'

'Doesn't matter. The value people give you depends on the value you put on yourself.' She'd been watching television but now she turned her head and smiled thinly.

'Try that when it's a case of put out now, bitch, or lose your job and watch your kids go hungry, ' she said, 'or ask Elena how you value yourself while some bastard's raping you with a bottle and threatening to break it. After a while you tend to think that anyone who doesn't treat you like shit is pretty special, and the worse you've been treated the more special they are. You're the only person I've met here who cares how people value themselves, and that's why Elena's all screwed-up over you.' I'd never heard her make a speech like that.

'Anita, where on earth did that come from?' She turned back to the television.

'I called Pilar, and she told me a bit about what the psychologist said about Elena being devoted to you, and about the other girl's operation, and I was thinking about it and when you knocked and said what you did it all came bubbling up.' I wondered what else she thought.

'Do you think it's my fault about Elena?' She groaned.

'Elena's basically a simpleton and you can't change that, and it's nothing to do with fault. I mean, take Miguel. He's a nice man and he's polite and everything, and he's never tried to touch me up or anything like that, but he looks at me and thinks "cheap labour", and when I go into a shop the assistants switch off and when I'm on the Metro I'm invisible. And you don't do that. The very first time we met you introduced yourself politely.' She was still looking firmly at the screen. 'I'm sorry, I don't mean to go on about it, but ... Well, anyway, I was thinking that I know exactly why Elena feels the way she does about you, better than you or Pilar, because you've never been at the bottom of the heap and you've never been abused. I'd like to tell the psychologist some of that before she starts telling Elena what she should be thinking.'

'How much of this did you say to Pilar?'

'None. We were on the phone, and she was watching Monica and trying to talk sense into Elena at the same time. She kept stopping and saying things in English. She didn't sound much like herself. She sounded like ... like a nurse, I suppose.'

'You noticed that too. Well, I can't sit on the bed with you because my reputation will suffer, but if you come out I'll tell you all the details. And then, if it's OK with you, I'm going to use your shower. I stink of hospital.'

Later, showered and spiffily dressed, I'd turned to her.

'You're working tomorrow, yes?' She looked hurt.

'Don't you start going on about it. Pilar was bad enough. You're still in deep shit, and God knows I want everything to work out, and I thought... '

'Hush. What I mean is I'm not going anywhere till ten, so why don't you take off? Go and upset Graciela: you enjoy doing that, or go for a walk, or a film, or a drink. Something selfish.' She brightened up.

'I'll go and look at some addresses. I'd like to try and find somewhere nice.' She smiled properly for the first time in a long while. 'Somewhere where there aren't too many immigrants.' When she'd left I sat in reception doing what I do. When I wasn't doing that I thought about Pilar. Eventually I called her.

'Sí?' She sounded harassed.

'Hola, cariño.'

'Hang on a minute.' I heard a door close. 'Hola? Sorry about that, I've just arrived at Mum and Dad's. I was going to call you from the cab, but Mum phoned to find out where I was and that was it. What are you doing?'

'At the hostal, watching the clock. Tell me about Monica.' It must have been a trying afternoon because she fast-forwarded without drawing breath.

'She came out of the anaesthetic, really uncomfortable, poor thing, but they've doped her up so it's not too bad. Carmen found a Rumanian cleaner, and one of the girls on the night shift speaks some English, so there won't be any problems. I left about an hour ago. Ilona called me and said that she was going to visit tomorrow and did I want to be there, so I said yes if she thought it would be alright. And she said yes, but it wouldn't be a good idea for you to. I talked to Elena quite a lot this afternoon, but it's difficult in English, and she didn't know whether to pay attention to me, or to watch Monica, or to moon over you and say no-one understands that you're semi-divine. I hope Ilona's better than me at getting through to her.' A voice shouted something. 'God, Enrique's arrived. Look, if you don't call by one I'll go down to your flat, and pace up and down seething with jealousy and cursing the day I met you. OK?'

'Perfect, and I'll crawl in looking ashamed and we can have a huge row and then make up loudly all night till we fall asleep in each others' arms.' She giggled, sounding more like herself.

'I've got to go, but be careful and remember I love you.' She rang off and I sat back. All I had to do now was watch my ass. I dealt with more people and at last it was time; I called Anita.

'I'm going to take off in a minute. I'll see you tomorrow morning, vale?' 'You've managed to fix it so that we're all depending on you, Alex, so take care, and then take a bit more care.' Thanks for the vote of confidence.

'Why are you sitting with your eyes shut?' It was Mercedes' voice. I opened them and remembered to smile.

'Just resting them. They've been busy seeing things all day. Did you get your problems sorted?' She made a discontented face.

'Mostly. Do you want another beer?' As she spoke, an Oriental girl brought her a pale-green drink and a glass of water.

'No, but I'll have a glass of something red, please.' Mercedes nodded, and the hostess was gone. It seemed that one didn't stay and vamp the boss's guests. I realised suddenly that she was the only woman in the room who wasn't naked.

'Why do I feel that everyone's pretending not to watch us?' She made the face again.

'Because that's what they're doing. They know I'm off-limits, so they're curious about you. They'll stop after a while.'

'I can't wait that long. I want to hand the stuff over and then go somewhere normal. I'm starving.' She looked pleased and we left our drinks on the table and went to the locker-room. I opened the locker, and she bent forward to unzip the sportsbag and check the contents, then changed the combination and closed the door again. I felt the weight float from my shoulders.

'Come on, Señora Efficient. Let's go and join the real world. This place is grotesque.'

'It's a very professional operation, ' she said calmly, picking up her bag. It was oversized, half-way between an expanding briefcase and a carryall, and she slung it over her shoulder as she led me back to the lobby. She was wearing a silk business suit and matching shoes, and her hair bounced as she walked. Even from behind she looked expensive.

'Let's walk up the middle, ' she said, 'and I'll sort myself out in one of the dark bits.' I hadn't a clue what she meant, but we crossed the road and walked slowly up the tree-lined promenade. After a hundred metres she stopped. 'Hold on a minute.'

She put her bag on a bench, unzipped the carryall side, and began to unbutton the jacket of her suit. She folded it carefully and put it on the bench. Her figure was riper than I'd thought, and she smiled faintly and posed for a second, backlit by car headlights. Then she took a simple cotton dress and a pair of sandals out of the carryall. She slipped the dress over her head and smoothed it down to her waist, then undid her skirt and shook the dress down after it as it fell to her ankles. She folded it and put it on top of the jacket.

'Come here.' She put one hand on my shoulder as she eased off the shoes and slipped her feet into the sandals. Then she put the suit and shoes into the carryall, twisted her hair up and secured it with an oversized clip.

'Thanks. Where are we going?' She looked completely different. Either a hell of a piece of acting or I'd watched something private. I reached for her bag automatically.

'Let me take that. There's a place near Iglesias, La Chirivía. Do you know it?'

'I've seen it. Can we walk?'

'Mercedes, it's still about forty thousand degrees.'

'Call me Mer. It's not far, and I've been stuck in sleazy offices all day, and I've got sandals on instead of heels, so humour me.'

'Mer, tell me why you let me watch that little act.'

'Because I want you to trust me a little, even though you're the most suspicious bastard I've met for a long time.' I understand that.

'I thought you were Martínez' girl through and through.'

'Mercedes is, ' she said, 'but I'm Mer as well. I don't usually let the two overlap, but right now ... Why do you think we didn't do all this earlier like we arranged?'

'Actually, I thought you were trying to set me up, but it's beginning to seem a bit too complicated. How come you're two people?' She shrugged.

'I was a nice girl from a nice family, and I ran away and started turning tricks, and Juan Martínez picked me off the street and cleaned me up and took me way upmarket. He's from farming stock: he'll slaughter if he has to, but he'd much rather milk regularly. I could have done a hell of a lot worse. And after a while I convinced him that I could do more than screw, and one thing led to another, and I studied accounting part-time and when I passed my exams he was almost as pleased as I was. Once he realised that I could make more money for him with my clothes on I stopped having to take them off so often, and I was able to start becoming me again. So I owe him, but there are still two of me. And today's been really bloody. I've been with him and those awful Albanians, and he was the one who told me to put you off. He trusts you a bit, because you're old-fashioned like him, he says. He was pleased that you were suspicious, and amused when I told him I'd be off the clock till tomorrow. He thinks I'm going to have a crack at you.' I shifted her bag to my other shoulder.

'And are you?' She glanced sideways at me.

'Why are you still here anyway? Why aren't you back with your girlfriend, watching a video or something?'

'She's with friends.' She stopped dead.

'You told her you were meeting me, and she said "yes dear", and went off for supper with her friends?'

'She's not the sort of person who says "yes dear" very much.' She shook her head.

'How come she trusts you?'

'Because I'm trustworthy.' She didn't reply.

La Chirivía means 'The Parsnip.' I've never seen a parsnip in Spain, and one should support anyone who names a restaurant after an unknown root-vegetable. Mercedes looked annoyed that we had to wait but I put a finger gently to her lips.

'There's no-one ahead of us. We'll have a drink and be patient, just like real people.' Her mouth twitched.

'It's been a while since a date told me what to do. You're going to make me go all girlish if you're not careful.'

'A date?' She looked embarrassed.

'You know what I meant.' Which of you meant what? 'Drink your drink and try not to lose control.' We talked about nothing, and in a little while a table was ready. When the wine had been tasted and the first course approved I leaned back and looked at her.

'I don't want to be too late tonight, so why don't you tell me what you want to tell me.' She swallowed and nodded, then took a notebook and pen out of her bag and put them on the table, fiddling with them until they were exactly squared.

'OK. Officially this is Mercedes keeping you in the loop as proof of good faith and rubbish like that. But there's some personal stuff mixed up in it.' Oh great.

'Carry on then. What's happening with the Albanians? Are they upset about Niku?'

'They're much more upset about their computer. Taking that was clever: they're frantic to have it back. The two boys are in complete disgrace. They're back in Marbella, and they'll be going further east quite soon. In fact if they weren't family they'd be dead. Their uncle told us that himself, which tells you how upset he was. They were trying to impress, and were incredibly sloppy, and went way beyond their original remit, and they've screwed up a long-term plan, and ... well, they screwed up. Basically the family will settle for anything if they get the CPU back. We'll get someone to look at the hard drive for us, but reading between the lines, my bet is that there won't be much about Madrid on it, just their construction scams on the coast. If the rest of the papers are like the ones you showed us though, they'll be the interesting part for Juan, and very useful too; he and Águstin are drooling at the prospect already.' Juan, eh? 'We've worked out a face-saver where Juan leases the hotel from them for hardly anything, and he'll do his usual deal with the girls, and whoever runs it will have me checking the books. The place will be squirting cash in three months, so don't feel bad about the clinic costs.'

'I promise. What deal with the girls?'

'Juan told you he doesn't extort. They get their passports back, and pay him room-rent plus a percentage and can even save some money if they're smart enough, which is unlikely, or they can say thanks but no thanks and be on their way.'

'Nice choice.' She shrugged.

'A whole lot better than they'd get anywhere else, believe me. Most of them will stay. After a certain point, carrying on feels like the only option.' I believed her. 'Why are you smiling?' she asked.

'At us. We're sitting here wondering if we can trust each other, or whether this is just one more turn of the cards. It's faintly comic, no?' She smiled reluctantly.

'I suppose. Why aren't you being all businesslike and trying to impress?'

'Businesslike is overrated, and I'm quite impressive enough already.' She rolled her eyes.

'No wonder you intrigue Juan. You're polite, and you can bluff like a politician, and you're probably sneakier than you look. If you weren't so sentimental you'd be quite good in this business. Women like you, don't they?'

'Only because I don't talk about cars or football. And I like women, because they don't talk about football either. What else?' She looked cross.

'Why can't we flirt just a little bit? It'd make everything much nicer.' Because I don't trust you, that's why.

'This isn't just so you could change your clothes on the street and flatter me. I'm glad to know you better, and being seen in public with you is excellent for my self-esteem, but you want to tell me something naughty, so better to concentrate on that first, no?'

'How do you know?'

'I've been here before, ' She poured herself more wine and looked hard at her plate as she spoke.

'Señor Martínez will not make Don Álvaro's life horrible enough. He wants him happy and cooperative. It's the same old thing: better to milk than to butcher.' Shit...

'I agreed that he could use the bastard if he made him miserable.'

'He won't wish he were dead. Señor Martínez was not completely transparent with you.' Something ugly was hanging in the air.

'Mer, you're going to have to explain why you hate him so much.'

'I need to wash my hands, ' she said abruptly and got up from the table.

I wondered which of them would come back, but gave up and called Pilar instead.

'Sí?'

'Hola, cariño, how was your evening?' Even over the phone I could feel her smile.

'Lovely. We haven't sat down like a family for weeks, so it felt really special and I ate loads, and I'm walking down to your flat sweating some of it off. You're going to take one look and think, Porker. Honestly, I had seconds of everything.'

'More of you to love, I suppose.' Careful. 'I've been having a weird evening, and we're in La Chirivía, and there's something going on. She's gone off to calm down.' She took the news in her stride.

'Should I go home and fetch my vibrator?'

'Certainly not. You can come down here if you like, though. If I tell her you're on your way she'll either close up completely or let it all out.'

'Coming to fetch you isn't the best way of showing trust. But be as quick as you can or I'll be chewing the carpet. You'd better not have drunk too much, either.' From the corner of my eye I saw Mercedes returning.

'I'll be careful, dear.' She giggled.

'Yum. Obedience and submission. Have you got any handcuffs?'

'Enough, woman. I'll see you when I see you.' We rang off. Mercedes was sitting watching me, looking wistful.

'Knock, knock, who's there?' I asked frivolously. She'd been crying and her hands were twisting round themselves on the table; I reached across and put mine over them.

'Whatever it is, say it and if you ask me not to I won't even tell Pilar, and if it's something that can be fixed then we'll fix it. Speciality of the house.' Her hands turned and grasped my wrists.

'Don't joke about it. Part of me thinks I'm being disloyal to Juan, and the other part says that he's pissing you about and Uncle Álvaro will get away with it again, just like he always does.' Whoa there.

'Uncle Álvaro?' Her face crumpled.

'Damn, damn, damn. I haven't cried in front of a man for years.'

'I'll go and wash my hands.' When I came back she'd ordered water and coffee, and was sipping them alternately, her face pale.

'Sit down and listen, ' she said, 'I've never told anyone, not even Juan.' I listened, half-knowing what was coming, but still feeling appalled when it came.

Her father was a civil-servant and as ambitious as the day is long. Since his days as a junior functionary he'd been the best of friends with Álvaro Ceacero. They'd risen through the ranks together, the accountant and the lawyer, the lawyer always slightly ahead, poised and well-connected, the accountant always catching up by grindingly hard work.

'I didn't see him very much, ' she said wistfully, 'and even at weekends he'd have to go to his study instead of playing.' She was still grasping my hands. 'But Uncle Álvaro was always happy to play. He said Daddy was so important that he was needed all the time, even by the king.'

When she was fourteen Uncle Álvaro had taken her out for a birthday meal, now that she was almost grown up. What could be more natural than such kindness from an old friend, especially since Daddy was busy again? He'd wined and dined her, treating her like a real lady, and on the way home he'd stopped the car and suggested she say thank you like a real lady does.

'I wasn't very big when I was fourteen, and I was pretty skinny. But he kissed my little breasts and said they were beautiful, and he made me touch him, and then he started stroking me between my legs, and it went on and on and I'd had my first ever glass of wine so at last I let him. He said he loved me and he was very thoughtful. He used lubricant and a condom.' The nugget of anger was glowing again.

'A real Boy Scout. And he said if you told anyone the king wouldn't want your daddy's help any more, or some such bollocks, didn't he?' Her face was bleak.

He'd said he could get her father sacked, that no-one would believe her if she said anything, that nobody wants to know a liar. When she was fifteen and desperate she'd told her mother and was informed point-blank that she was untruthful. She'd tried to tell her father, but he'd said that her mother had told him about her fantasies, and she was never to repeat them. Uncle Álvaro had been right: no-one believed her.

'So four months before my sixteenth birthday I packed a little bag, and took all the money from my mother's dressing-table, and the bit that she had in her purse, and I left. It was awful, but it was better than waiting for Uncle Álvaro's next visit. He was getting rougher, even back then. And after about two months Juan found me standing on a corner near Tres Cruces, and he listened to the bits I told him, and for some reason he decided to rescue me.'

'And you joined his team?' She shook her head.

'That's not part of the story. He's loved me as much as he can, and he trusts me more than anyone else except Agustín. He exploited me and he taught me how to be good in bed and he's never once hurt me or forced me to do anything I wasn't willing to do. He's been my family for the last fourteen years, and ... do you understand?'

'Not completely, but if he values you he's more than I'd imagined and if you value him, ditto. Was he the one who suggested you had cosmetic surgery?' She flushed.

'Who told you? No-one knows about that.'

'When you took your jacket off this evening there was more of you than I expected. And sixteen and fourteen make thirty, and your face isn't thirty. It'd be a clever way to make someone feel safer, helping them change the way they look.' Her eyes dropped.

'I'm just thirty-one. I don't know how you guessed. Juan paid for me to go to Brazil when I was nineteen. They're good over there, and when I saw myself afterwards I did feel better, and I had a top-up about five years ago. I didn't see Uncle ... him from the time I was fifteen till three years ago, and I was terrified, but he never even looked at me twice.' She sat quietly, looking down at the table, and I worried about the implications of her being thirty-one. It's a pivotal age for a woman. Astrologers used to see it as a time when an important journey, an unexpected danger, or some great temptation could arise. I hate being superstitious. I wondered about warning her to take special care, then pushed the idea away. Just one more bloody variable.

'Well you've told me. What now?' She raised her eyes.

'I'm going home in a minute. But you've listened beautifully, and now you understand a bit. Look.'

She picked up the pen from the table and tossed it to me. It was heavier than it looked, and had a row of tiny buttons down the side.

'You've recorded this?'

'Push the top button.' I did as she said, and she took the pen and checked. 'OK, it's off. Now, if you're so clever, tell me why I'm going to give you this.' Holy shit, she wants to hire me.

'Because you're planning to go behind Martínez' back and I'm the only person you can think of to help. You've said quite enough to annoy him, so this is really serious for you. I'm not surprised you got a little emotional.' She handed me the recorder, and I put it in my shirt-pocket.

'I want ... I want him to hate his life, the way I did, and I want you to help me find a way. When you and whatshername visit those girls remember what I said. I'll call you in a couple of days.' She stepped round the table and kissed me goodbye, then turned and walked out, her bag over her shoulder. As if by magic a waiter materialised with the bill. Real, or a fucking brilliant performance?

Pilar was sitting in an armchair, sipping from a bottle of water and watching television as if it were important. She got up and sniffed.

'Smoke, but nothing else. You can kiss me if you want.' When I'd done that she leaned back in my arms.

'I've had a really lovely time. I've been so busy with you and Elena and everything else that I'd forgotten how nice it is being with family. I'm going to miss them more than I'd imagined. And the meal was so good. Look.' She pulled up her tee-shirt and put my hand on her stomach. 'It's huge, and even walking down here didn't help.' It seemed much the same to me but what do I know?