A Coffin For Two

28

While I spent the rest of the morning drawing up work plans for our two commercial commissions, Prim took the car and drove up to Shirley‘s, on Millionaire’s Row, above L’Escala.

She returned two hours later, flushed with a cocktail of flattery and success. ‘For you, my lovely Primavera, and for my friend Oz,’ she mimicked in a Hispanic-American accent, ‘it will be an honour and a pleasure. No, more than that, it will be an adventure.’

She laughed. ‘Tarragona! Davidoff has not been to Tarragona for forty years. When I come into middle age, I decide that Barcelona was as far south as I wished to venture. Now that I am old, even Girona seems like too much trouble. But to Tarragona, and with Senor Oz. Yes, that will be an adventure.’

She finished her monologue and looked at me. ‘One interpreter hired and ready for action. He is even, and wait for this, going to get himself out of bed before midday for the occasion. You can pick him up at nine o’clock. Shirley says that it’s an easy two-hour drive to Tarragona down the autopista. Your appointment with Senora Compostella is at midday, so you’ll have plenty of time.

‘I guarantee you one thing. You’ll have plenty of chat on the way down. Shirley said to me she hasn’t seen Davidoff come out of his shell like this since her husband died.’

‘I’m looking forward to it,’ I said. ‘Maybe I can quiz him about Dali on the trip.’

I thought back to Prim’s mimicry. ‘Have you worked out yet how old he might be?’

She shook her head. ‘No, I still can’t get close to it. There’s a tremendous vitality about him, and with that jet-black hair and the sleek skin, you could almost see him being in his sixties. But it’s that eye of his. He fixes you with it, and you feel that you could be staring into the mists of time.’

‘Time,’ I said. ‘Yes, time. As in lunchtime. Fancy a salad down in the square? I really need to talk to Miguel.’

Prim nodded her agreement. We locked up the apartment and strolled round to the heart of our hamlet. The archaeologists were still having their effect on business, and the tables outside the restaurants were busier than we had been assured was normal for the time of year. Nevertheless, our usual table near the door was available, and Miguel showed us to it, handing us menus automatically, although we knew his carta by heart.

I motioned him to join us as we attacked our chicken, rice, and side-salads. ‘Still many peoples,’ he said, as he sat down.

‘Yes,’ I agreed, ‘but none of them police, which would have been the case for sure if we hadn’t moved our chum.’ The smile left his face in an instant.

‘Miguel, I think we know who the body was.’

‘How?’ he whispered, incredulous. I took the watch from my pocket and showed it to him discreetly, in the palm of my hand. He gulped in fright. ‘You … How …’

‘I put it in my pocket at one point, and forgot to replace it. We traced him from its serial number. Now we need to find him again. Have you had any word from your wife’s nephew’s wife in the local police?’

His face fell, a guilty look spreading across it. ‘No, Oz. Not yet. To tell you the true, I have done nothing about it. I decide that the best thing was to forget about it.’

I shook my head. ‘Maybe it was, but not any more. The guy was murdered, Miguel. He doesn’t deserve to be tossed in a ditch and forgotten. Your tourist trade is safe. Now we owe it to him to try to ensure that he has a decent burial, and that whoever killed him is made to answer for it.’

He sighed. ‘Okay, Oz, okay. I will see what I can do. I will speak to Santi and ask him to try to find out from Ramona if the local police know about the body. And don’ worry Oz. I will be …’

‘… discreet, Miguel. Yes, that’s still a good idea.’