Chapter 12

Wednesday 9.00pm

She felt as if she should still be hurting, but she wasn't, and couldn't quite believe it. The Englishman had told her she looked better, and when she'd checked herself in the mirror she'd realised he was right. Nela was fiddling about in the bathroom again, playing with her hair and examining her face. She breathed slowly, trying to calm herself. She'd been alone with a man today, and she'd said what the doctor suggested and nothing awful had happened. In fact he'd told her, well, more or less, that the devil-man was going to suffer and suffer and suffer. She'd almost not dared say anything, but she'd let him kiss her cheek when he went and she'd only been a little bit frightened. She realised that she could remember him carrying her past Niku's body and into a car and she felt a rush of gratitude, then remembered that he'd said he hated that and had pretended to look cross. She almost smiled. The best way to thank him would be to concentrate on getting better and keeping Nela away from him.

Mercedes opened the door, her hair pinned up, wearing a navy-blue towelling robe. Without make-up she looked unexpectedly vulnerable. She also looked half-pissed and I felt a tickle of apprehension.

'Come in, Alex. You're becoming more Spanish. I was expecting you exactly one hour after your phone-call.' She went into the lounge, leaving me to follow her, and lay down on the sofa, her hands behind her head. The robe slipped open but she appeared not to notice: I might as well not have been in the room. There was a bottle of white wine and a glass on the coffee table next to her. The bottle was a quarter full and the glass was empty.

When in doubt, check the fridge. There was beer left over from my first visit. I opened one and went back into the lounge. She hadn't moved, but the robe had slipped a little more.

'Juan told me to find a skinny young blonde today, ' she said tonelessly, 'and when I asked why, he just said insurance.'

'He prefers carrots to sticks, ' I said. 'What are you going to do?'

'I can make sure he doesn't get the same girl twice, and that they get a bonus, but that'll mean he's won again, or I can go ahead and give you the letters, and then I'll be, I don't know, betraying Juan.'

'Dilemma. Is that why you wanted to talk?'

'If I don't I'll do something stupid. I've had four glasses of wine since you called and that's pretty stupid.' Tears began to leak from her closed eyelids but she made no move to brush them away.

'And you had coffee for breakfast and nothing for lunch. Put some clothes on and we'll go and get something to eat.' She opened her eyes and stared at me, unwilling to take a grip.

'Don't be so cold. What do I have to do to make you feel something for me?' She flipped the robe completely open and raised one knee, rolling her hips towards me. Her hand fluttered over her breasts and groin and she began stroking herself, flexing her thighs to expose herself fully. Her eyes were slightly out of focus. I thought she looked like a child trying to be seductive. Just a grown-up Elena.

'You can start by not confusing fucking and feeling. Jeans and a tee-shirt, don't bother with make-up, pretend for a minute that we're friends going out for supper. If you carry on like this then he really will have won.' She took her hand away from her body and rubbed her eyes, then swung off the couch and stood up, staggering slightly. She smiled lopsidedly.

'Marga was right. Don't bother with another beer. I'm going to take you at your word. Not jeans though.' She was back in about one minute and posed in the doorway. 'Does this offend your sensibilities?' The tee-shirt was form-fitting and the skirt was short. She looked a little defiant and I took a chance.

'Now go and put some underwear on, just so my sensibilities don't buckle under the strain.' She looked annoyed and guilty.

'How do you know?' Because you're so fucking predictable.

'I have powers you don't know about. Sensible knickers, mind.' She was another two minutes. The tee-shirt showed the outline of a bra, and she flipped the skirt up so I caught a flash of plain white panties.

'That's a whole lot more enticing. The first bar that looks halfway decent, OK?' She was hungry and I pretended to be, and between us we demolished a fair amount of raciones in a cervecería round the corner from her flat. She stayed with soft drinks.

'That man at the bar keeps staring at me, ' she said when we were at the coffee stage.

'That's because you look great, ' I told her. 'Makes me feel good.' I patted the back of her hand. 'Will you do something for me?'

'What?' She sounded eager.

'Could you cadge a cigarette? I don't carry them, but right now I feel like one.' She stared.

'Is that why you always order a pack at the club and then leave it behind?' She shook her head and a gleam of amusement broke through. 'You aren't completely normal, are you?' You're the second person to say that today.

'I'm completely special. Look, your admirer smokes. If you beg one off him and then give it to me he'll be furious. Don't try to seduce him, just ask politely.'

She got up and walked over to her fan club. They exchanged a few words and he nearly fell off his stool as he fumbled for his cigarettes. She accepted a light and came back to the table, holding the cigarette carefully.

'Perfect. He's looking livid. Now turn round and blow him a kiss to say sorry and he'll be happy again.' She did as she was told and smiled.

'Is this what they call fun?' Her voice held a mixture of cynicism and wistfulness.

'Innocent fun. The second-best sort. If we go back to your flat will you be able to control yourself or shall we talk here?'

'I'd rather be at home, ' she said, 'in case I get emotional, and I'll try not to. It's difficult though, not doing something that's always worked.'

'Doesn't work with me.' As we were leaving I reached over and pinched her bottom gently. Her head whipped round. 'That was for our cigarette donor. Turn round and wink at him, or something.' She looked at me consideringly, then spun on her heel, walked back to the bar, put her hands on the guy's shoulders and kissed him on the mouth. She whispered something in his ear, then came back grinning, grabbed my hand, and pulled me urgently towards the door. When we were outside she let go and chuckled.

'I said I'd pretend it was him fucking me tonight. He nearly had a stroke. I'm getting the hang of this innocent fun thing.' If you weren't on a promise to Pilar you could have a good time teaching her. In the flat she took a slow breath and became serious.

'Tell me about Alberto. The girl said you were positively brutal, your voice and the knife ... I didn't believe her till I remembered the man in Pio XII.' I told her the outline and added my thoughts on how to keep him quiet afterwards. She raised her eyebrows.

'I'll think about that. Did you really take all his clothes away?'

'To stop him leaving. I shouldn't think that there's much in Marga's wardrobe that would suit him.'

'Neither should I.' She stretched, with no attempt to flaunt herself. 'It's funny how you make me feel better. So I can give you the letters and let your friend hawk the story round, or stop it all now and concentrate on keeping the girls out of too much danger. That's more or less it, isn't it?'

'Feelings are part of it too. I don't want to feel I've left anything undone and you want to feel that you can have that last scar seen to. Me, I want to destroy him, so it's no good asking me what I think.' She put her chin in her hands.

'If I'd just given you the information, and hadn't said that I wanted to do it too, what would you be doing now?'

'What I'm doing. It would have taken longer to track down Alberto, or I might have tried to get one of the girls that Elena knows to spill the beans, or I'd be running a smear campaign with the photocopies or I'd persuade Monica to make a formal complaint. I'd be doing something.'

'Why?'

'Because I promised, and because I don't want anyone's blood on my hands. Personal stuff, really.'

'And supposing I told Agustín that you were trying to stir things up and he came and told you to stop: then what?'

'Mer, I really don't know. I do what seems good at the time, and then I sort of improvise. Definite plans nearly always go wrong. Every challenge is an opportunity.' She snorted inelegantly.

'Don't talk shit. I spent too long blowing corporate dickheads while they banged on about success strategies to be impressed by business jargon. I'm going to sleep on this.' Procrastination again.

'It's too late to do nothing.'

'I know that, and I'm still going to sleep on it.' Would she be more cooperative if I kissed her a little?

'I'll go ahead with the video, and when my friend's edited it a bit I'll make a copy. Can you tell Marga to expect a camera crew at about eleven-thirty tomorrow?'

'I'll go over there and inspect them now. Do you think he could be teased into staying quiet?' She wandered round the room, then plumped onto the sofa next to me. 'Don't get defensive, I'm not coming on to you again. It's quite nice being with someone who isn't undressing me all the time. Nice but odd. You're the only person I know besides Juan and Agustín who doesn't drool.' I may yet.

'If I drool you'll notice, but if you're going to dither we might need to keep him on ice for a while. Can he stay with Marga or would it be better to move him?' She pursed her lips, then swung round and put her head in my lap, stretching her legs over the arm of the sofa.

'Is this a domestic attitude?'

'As long as you don't nod your head. Are you practising for something?' She squinted up at me.

'How long does it take for domestic stuff to get boring?' Excellent question.

'Depends on whether you're domesticated or not. What about Alberto and keeping him in place?' She sighed.

'You're impossible to distract except when you're doing the distracting. Keep him there, I suppose, though it means letting Marga slobber all over me. She told me she wants to be my slave.'

'Good God.'

'Her story's like mine but it took her another way. Agustín says you've got a story as well' She reached up and rubbed the side of my head. I wondered whether if I closed my eyes I'd be able to tell the difference between her hand and Pilar's.

'Yes, I have a story and no, I don't talk about it.'

'If it weren't for your girlfriend would you stay here tonight?' Yes.

'I'd be thinking about it. If it weren't for Pilar would you ask me?' She was silent, then swivelled her legs and wriggled upright again.

If you break up with her I want first refusal, OK?'

'OK.' She nodded to herself, then stretched again and ran her hand through her hair, scattering the pins.

'You'd better go. I'm going to put my face on and go and sweet talk Marga. She's losing income doing this.'

'Your shout. My money's reserved for rehabilitation work.' I got to my feet. 'Thanks, Mer. I'll organise tomorrow and then get some sleep. I'm running on empty.'

'Will you call when you've done the interview?'

'Yes. You know the letters won't be traceable to you, don't you? Alberto will say that he filched them when the troubles at the hotel started, and Juan and Agustín needn't know any different.' She shook her head.

'I told you I'm going to sleep on it. Don't try to pressure me.' She got up and kissed my cheek. 'See yourself out, will you? I'm going to change.'

On the street I called Simon.

'Alex?' He sounded hesitant. Maybe my harping on about risk had finally penetrated.

'Tomorrow at eleven-thirty, Si. Are you free now?'

'Rachel's in England visiting her parents, and watching TV isn't an option.'

'Los Torreznos in Alonso Cano.' I rang off.

I was closer to Alonso Cano than he was, but he was already there when I walked in, a beer and a plate of baby ribs at his elbow. He had a thick pile of papers in front of him and as I waved to the barman he looked up eagerly. I gave him a thumbs-up

'Ready for tomorrow, Si? How long do you think we'll need?'

'Couple of hours maybe. How smart is he?'

'Not at all. He thinks he's getting ten grand, but the reward is actually a ticket home and orders never to come to Madrid again, on pain of death.' Simon stared.

'Literally?'

'Oh yes, and when the shit hits the fan he'll be glad. He should be happy that he isn't going to the pokey too, considering how much I dislike him.' The waiter bought me a beer and a plate of ribs. Simon raised an eyebrow.

'I didn't hear you order.'

'They know me here. The old guy behind the bar thinks I'm a riot.'

'Never mind riot: you're a fucking war-zone. In fact you're almost a crook. All this stuff you're doing is as bent as New Labour.' Fuck you. I leaned forward.

'You need to understand something, Si. The difference between you and me is that I know when my trigger's been pulled, and what I'm prepared to do when that happens. And money doesn't pull it, and nor does power, and nor does getting my own way, and therefore I'm not a fucking crook. Is that alright?' He looked shaken.

'Vigilante, caped crusader, what the hell. You get kind of intense sometimes, did you know that?' Maybe I'd spoken more forcefully than I'd intended.

I sipped beer and felt dissatisfied. I could be with Pilar. I could have been with Mer teaching her how to have fun. Instead, all I got was disapproval. Maybe you should try to be nicer to the people you like.

'I'm sorry, Si. Tell me what and how. Just the outlines: I don't need a course in TV journalism.' He began to talk, and was so enthusiastic about it that my mood begin to lighten. After ten minutes he was in full flow and after twenty he was repeating himself. I put up a hand.

'OK. We coach him and let him ramble, and you edit it. You'd better make sure that he sounds as if it was all his idea. Why am I doing the asking?'

'Because you're the one he's scared of. I'll find a native to overdub you; you get a bit micro-management sometimes, you know.'

'I just want to get this finished, Si. Nothing else.'

'Where do we meet?' he asked.

'Plaza de España at eleven-fifteen. I've got to get some clothes.' He looked at me oddly when I'd finished explaining.

'You know you're not completely normal, don't you?' Jesus, not you as well.

'Thanks, Si.' I left without saying goodbye, wondering why everything comes in threes. My phone chirruped: 'Normal is overrated.' It was as close to an apology as I was likely to get. Instead of putting the phone away I texted Pilar. 'Can I call u?' After five minutes I put the phone back in my pocket.

By the time I reached my flat my mood had soured again. I unlocked the front door and stopped dead. Light was filtering from the lounge, and I could hear the television babbling.

She was curled up in an armchair, fast asleep. I sat down and watched her for a while, feeling the day washing away, then went to the bathroom, stripped, and got into the shower. When I emerged she still hadn't moved, so I turned off the television, picked her up as gently as I could, and carried her into the bedroom. She gave a faint whine of protest as I laid her down and spooned myself in beside her. You've got it pretty bad, haven't you? I fell asleep in about eight seconds.

I was woken by soft lips on my neck. She was propped on one elbow, her body warm against mine.

'I've got to get up in a minute, ' she said, 'I've set your phone for eight-thirty but I did want just to say good morning.'

'If you had any idea how glad I was to find you here you'd be seriously frightened.'

'I don't remember anything, ' she said, sounding annoyed. 'One minute I was watching television, and the next I was in bed with you holding me and it was time to get up. Why didn't you wake me?'

'Carrying you to bed exhausted me.' She put both arms round my neck and pushed her face into my chest.

'Sometimes I want you so much. I couldn't bear going back to my place, and I didn't want to go to Mum and Dad's, so I came here and put on a T-shirt that smelt of you. It's pathetic really.' I shifted my weight and ran a hand over her hip. I badly didn't want her to go. She tightened her grip. 'It's getting late. I've got to go and fetch the bread and stuff, and today's going to be so busy. Enrique's going to help me shift stuff and Mum's going mad cleaning my old room. It's horrible. I should have asked you if I could stay here.' Not yet.

'Only horrible for a little while. Mostly sensible.'

'If I got fed-up with sensible what would you think?' Her voice was muffled and I could hardly hear her.

'You'd have to learn how to be selfish, and two non-sensibles is a recipe for disaster. Somebody has to be an anchor.'

'Is that the sort of selfish you mean?' Yes.

'You're getting the idea.' She let go and swung herself out of bed.

'I'm going to shower later. Today's going to be so sweaty there's no point in having one now. Do you want coffee?'

'Wash and get dressed; I'll make it and get an early start as well. I don't want you thinking that I'm just having fun.' I levered myself upright and headed for the kitchen. She barred my way, arms outstretched.

'If you don't keep Saturday night free I'll be really angry.'

'Unless there's a major cock-up. Choose your underwear carefully, book a table somewhere nice, and plan for success.' She kissed the tip of my nose.

'I'm glad you mentioned the underwear first.'

When she'd gone I sat at the table and thought. There are times when I don't like myself as much as I should. After a while, when it didn't seem too early, I called Ilona.

'Señora Doctor. I need a professional opinion, please.'

'Go on, Alex.'

'How long before Monica can talk about her abuse, in a deposition for instance?' There was a long pause.

'Not yet; three or four weeks if she's tougher than I think, three or four months if she isn't. She was very badly hurt for a long time.'

'Could you get me copies of her medical notes?' No pause this time, and there was iron in her voice.

'No, and if you try to obtain them I'll withdraw from the case.'

'So that dog won't run. Thanks, Ilona.' Inspiration continued to elude me so I gave up and went out for a proper breakfast. Maybe protein would help.

By five to ten I was outside El Corte Inglés, wondering how I came to be buying a new wardrobe for a failed pimp. Once the doors opened I headed for the own-brand section. Two of everything, one pair of shoes. I bought a cheap sportsbag as well and shovelled the stuff in.

Simon was waiting, surrounded by equipment, and looking impatient.

'Si, it's July in Madrid. Why are you carrying an umbrella?' He looked sheepish.

'You did say dungeon. It's for reflecting light.'

'This guy doesn't want light. You ought to be planning silhouettes or he'll clam up for ever.' He started making faces that suggested deep concentration. The thinking man's Almodóvar. I picked up a fair amount of the pile and headed across the road.

In the flat the atmosphere was surprisingly relaxed. Marga fussed round and offered refreshments while Alberto eyed Simon and his equipment. He seemed relieved to have clothes again, but managed not to express any gratitude. He had a smug aura and Marga was a little dewy-eyed: apparently it was going to be easier than I'd thought. Once I'd asked my questions there was nothing for me to do. Marga caught my eye and we moved into the kitchen.

'She said I could call her mistress, ' she announced, as if she was confirming the Second Coming, 'and she gave me a message for you.' She handed me a sealed envelope.

"Alex, they're both happy. Some people aren't as resistant as you. M." I refolded the note. Marga looked at me expectantly.

'Thank you, Marga, ' I said awkwardly. 'I hope all this isn't causing too much trouble.' What a stupid thing to say. She shook her head.

'She made me kneel and watch them and then she let me wash her when he'd finished. It was wonderful. She made him beg and say 'usted', and call her Señora the whole time, even at the end. I don't mind him staying for a bit. She said she'd come back soon.' My imagination failed me completely so I went back to the lounge.

By early afternoon we were back in Simon's office. He was setting himself up for a fun editing session and I looked at the camera.

'Si, can I take this away for an hour?'

'What are you going to do? We've got lots of good stuff here, in fact I'm going to have to chop it or no-one'll want to bother watching.'

'I'm going to get a little input from the victim's sister.' He was intrigued.

'I'd better do it myself, Alex, or the values will be different, and the lighting... '

'She won't talk except to me, and it's going to be mostly monologue, in English. You'll need a female voice to dub it. This is a lot more fucking important than municipal corruption.' I picked up the camera and left.

Pilar's flat was a disaster. Half the furniture had gone and there were boxes blocking the passage. Nuria and Elena were sitting on two folding-chairs sipping coke. When Elena saw me she shot up, spilling her drink, and hugged me.

'Alex, you should not have come yet but we are going to Ikea tomorrow to choose furniture and Ilona thinks Monica can visit on Saturday and look at it and... ' I lifted her off me and set her back down on her chair. I grinned at Nuria and she smiled back.

'We've both been working hard. I don't know where Elena gets the energy from.'

'Plenty of rest and plenty of good food. Show me what you've done so far.' I was polite and admired everything. It seemed that I'd just missed Pilar and Enrique, who were still humping Pilar's belongings back to the parental cave. Elena darted into the bathroom to ready it for inspection and I looked at Nuria.

'Money?'

'Plenty. Pilar gave me some, a lot actually. Elena's going back to the hospital tonight and I'll pick her up tomorrow when I've talked to Dr Ilona.' She looked at me conspiratorially. 'She said would it be OK to talk about you and Pilar and things, like gossiping, and Pilar said alright. Do you mind?' I used to have a private life.

'Whatever works, Nuria.'

Elena came out of the bathroom wondering what all the Spanish was about, but forgot her query in the discussion of colours for shower curtains. After a couple of minutes I interrupted.

'Elena, have you and Monica talked about what happened to her?' She closed her eyes, then opened them and looked straight at me.

'Monica does not want to, and I understand that because I did the same. But she has said a bit, at night mostly when she wakes up feeling nervous.' I glanced at Nuria. She was straining to understand, and was obviously itching to hear more. I spoke to her in Spanish.

'If I can persuade her to talk would you mind if I filmed it?' Curiosity defeated ethics.

'It's the sort of data that's often hard to elicit.' Data, my ass. I switched back to English and started working on Elena.

I explained what and I explained why. Her eyes widened and I hoped that I was only imagining the whisper of adoration as she gave her consent. I set the camera up and asked her to tell me exactly what she and Monica had talked about. As she started talking I focused her against the sun pouring in through the window.

Monica must have said more than a bit and I listened quietly for thirty minutes; there were pauses and repetitions; there was a hesitancy about using anatomical terms; once or twice she corrected the chronology or commented on what she'd said. I stayed quiet and concentrated on the sound level. Elena slowly ran down.

'Is that the sort of thing you wanted?' she asked.

'I didn't want it. I think it's an intrusion, but it'll help me do something I said I'd do.' She nodded.

'Monica said you had promised something. Can I tell her?' Of course, but I don't know when.

'Maybe you ought to talk with Ana and Belén about that, ' I said. 'They know better than me.' Nuria was looking sick. There was something infinitely sad about the litany of cruelty that we'd heard, told without affect in a defensively careful voice. No-one listening could think that she was exaggerating.

'You did brilliantly, and it's just what I needed. Don't tell Monica till she's ready. I hope she'll be grateful to you. I am.' I stood up, my knees cracking, and gave her a kiss on the cheek, then turned to Nuria, speaking fast in Spanish.

'If you could be disapproving and suggest that I manipulated her I'd be grateful, especially as it's true. I'll make sure you get a copy. I'm not worried about your ethics, only mine.'

'Hearing it is different from reading the notes. I hadn't imagined the details before... ' Her voice trailed off, and I got up. Elena followed me to the door like a puppy.

'Was it really alright?'

'Yes, but the way I did it isn't. Talk to Nuria about that.' As I went out of the front-door my phone rang.

'Simon, what's up?'

'I've had to take this stuff over to a mate's place. If I try to do it myself it'll take for ever.'

'Text me the address.' I started looking for a taxi.

The mate was a technogeek German whose flat looked like a television studio. Simon and he were deep in conversation when I arrived, and scarcely looked up. After ten minutes Simon sat back and his mate began to play with a double-console. Images flickered on a bank of small screens.

'I didn't know you spoke German, Si.'

'There's lots of stuff you don't know. Manfred speaks no English or Spanish, which is weird, but on the other hand his German is crap too and he's socially autistic. His only talent is editing. I tell him what I want and he makes it happen. We're going to end up with a high quality product. What have you got?' I gave him the camera and he slotted it into a port We watched silently and when the screen went dark he looked at me with anger in his eyes.

'Is this why you've been running round like the wrath of God?'

'Yes. I want a director's cut that's got them both edited in, pointing out hard that he was being paid blood as well as money, then another one for you, with Alberto's song, and then a tidied up version of just Elena, with subtitles, not dubbing, so you can hear her voice. Her English is clear enough.' He nodded.

'Consider it done. It's a pity that bastard didn't get topped too. Why don't you piss off for a few hours? I'll use Manfred's girlfriend for the voiceovers. She's Spanish and a techie as well.' He looked impatient to be back at the cutting board so I left.

While I absorbed the first Mahou of the day I called Mer: all I got was her voicemail.

'Call me when you can.' I rang off and hit more buttons.

'Alex?'

'Hello, sweetheart, how's your day been?'

'Hot and boring and tiring. I'm going to have a shower and change, and then I was going to call you, honest.'

I'm going to do the same. I'm clear till nineish, I should think: do you want me to do the first bit at the hostal?'

'Oh God, please. I'll be able to pretend to listen to Mum and wind down. Are you sure?'

'Only if you promise to kiss me when you arrive. No kiss, no cover, and that's my last word.'

'That's extortion.'

I reached the hostal, cool and clean, at about six-thirty. Anita was sitting surfing the net and making notes.

'Hola, Alex. Why is there so much garbage on this internet thing?'

'Because the world is full of sick people and the internet's the best place for them. It keeps them off the streets and out of mischief. Next question?'

'How do I buy things?'

With a credit-card and your fingers crossed. What's the problem?'

'Air-tickets. I went to the bank this morning to find out about opening an account but I don't even know how to get a credit-card. Where's Pilar?'

'I've got credit-cards when you need them. Pilar'll be down later. I told her I'd cover here while she soothed her mum.' Anita giggled.

'Three days and she's getting you to cover shifts already. I wish it was me you were in love with.' Is that what it looks like? 'I'd have you working round the clock.'

'I'm working round the bloody clock already. Why aren't you asking me about it?' She thought before she replied.

'I suppose because I know you'll tell me when it's over. I'm too busy to be getting regular bulletins.' At least someone's got faith.

'Dolores ought to get an update. Has Miguel been down?' She got up from the chair and shook her head.

'I was thinking about that today. Honestly, I don't know how you're juggling all this in your head.'

'I eat a lot of fish. What I'll do is send them the info now and go up there later with a hard copy and the cash. Can you order a pizza with everything and beer while I start on that? I'll let you have a slice.'