Blood Red

Forty

I’d been a lot more confident with Gerard than I really felt. It’s much more difficult to disappear into thin air than most people imagine. I’d been able to do it before more by luck than judgement; I was no expert. To make it work for three people would take money; I have plenty, but accessing it would be difficult.

I knew that I’d do it, or try to, if it became unavoidable, but before we got to that stage, there was Plan B.

During my time with Oz, I met a man. His name is Mark Kravitz and he runs a very discreet business that he describes as a security consultancy. That covers a variety of services; some are pretty secret, others involve high-level contacts in places of influence. He has worked for Oz on occasion, and in the recent past, when I had need of him, I’d been able to turn to him for help. My fingers were crossed that I could again.

I finished my shopping, then retraced my steps, until I found an internet shop that I’d noticed earlier. I’d been going to make the contact anyway, but my discussion with Gerard had concentrated my mind on it. I went into the shop, bought an hour’s time, and settled into the booth that was furthest away from the door. I’d planned to send Mark an email, but as soon as I switched on the terminal, I came up lucky. I saw that it was loaded with Skype, that clever internet tool that lets you eyeball friends and family around the world; that’s how Dawn and I keep in touch. (We’ve tried to get Dad into the way of it, but we’re wasting our time.)

I was pretty sure that Mark would be there as I slipped on the headset that was plugged into the computer. He has MS, and is having increasing motor difficulties, so he rarely leaves his home-office. I opened the software, keyed in his contact details and pressed the green button. It didn’t ring for long before he answered and his face appeared on the monitor screen. He was in his wheelchair, thinner than the last time we’d spoken, and his hair was a little greyer, but the old light still burned in his eyes.

‘Primavera, what a nice surprise,’ he exclaimed; then he frowned. ‘What have you done to your hair?’ he asked. ‘And where the hell are you?’

‘I’ve decided on a change of colour,’ I told him, ‘and I’m away from home.’ I looked around to check that there was nobody within listening range, for at least half the voices I’d heard that morning had been speaking English, most of it with an American accent. When I felt secure, I explained why. I told him everything, every last detail.

‘Mmm,’ he murmured, when I had finished. ‘You don’t get into small trouble, do you? I bet you’ve never tripped over a step and skinned your knee, or picked up half a dozen parking tickets in a fortnight. No, with you it’s always grand scale stuff, like that business last year with your cousin.’

I had to admit that there was something in what he said. I’ve survived an air crash where others did not, been duped by one of the cleverest con men ever to have worked a scam, but I’ve never picked up even one parking ticket, let alone half a dozen in a fortnight. And no, I don’t remember ever falling and skinning my knee, not even as a child.

‘You say the police are happy with the evidence?’ he continued.

‘Yes, and it points to me.’

‘But you didn’t do it, so they must have missed something.’

‘Not necessarily. It could be that whoever killed these people didn’t leave a trace.’

‘Everybody leaves a trace, Primavera; miscarriages of justice come about because investigators stop looking when they’ve found enough to satisfy them, and to fit a particular theory.’

‘Why would anyone want to frame me, Mark?’

‘From what you say I don’t think they did; not at the outset. I think they killed this Planas man, and kidnapped the woman. The police thinking has to be right in that respect; they didn’t expect her to be there. You seem to have been a convenient fall. . person.’

‘You keep saying “they”. The police are prepared to believe that I did it all on my own.’

‘That’s another weakness in their case against you. It’s possible, but bloody difficult. The dead woman; was she weak?’

‘Anything but, from what I saw of her.’

‘Well, there you are. You can handle yourself, Primavera, but you’re not a giant. Probability says to me that you couldn’t have done all that by yourself. Put it this way; if I was contracted to do a job like that. . not that I handle such work, of course,’ he added, hastily, ‘. . I’d send three people, two to do the wet work, and one to get them there, keep a lookout and get them away again. I wouldn’t be sending a lone woman.’ I saw him frown. ‘No, there’s something about this that stinks.’

‘Tell me about it; I’m at the really smelly end.’

‘And who put you there?’ He frowned. ‘When did you become a suspect? I mean when did they even begin to consider you a possibility?’

‘I suppose it would be when they identified the murder weapon and found my DNA on it.’

‘Exactly. And when was the woman killed and planted in your cellar, or whatever it is?’

‘Friday morning.’

‘Exactly. After the link to you had been established.’

‘And after Dolores’s car had been found. .’

‘. . confirming that she hadn’t run off, but had been abducted, forcing the hand of her kidnappers, making them realise they had to get rid of her there and then.’

‘Right.’ I knew where he was going and I didn’t like it.

‘They killed her with your scarf and they chose your place to dump the body. Why would they do that?’

‘Because they knew by that time that I had handled the chair, and that the police were about to ask me why.’

Over a thousand miles away, by flying crow, he nodded. ‘That’s it. The police set you up, or helped.’

‘No,’ I protested. ‘One of the investigating officers. . he’s just about my best friend. I can’t believe that.’

‘One of. .’ Mark repeated. ‘But not the only.’

‘I know Hector Gomez too.’

‘How well?’

‘Not that well, but. .’

‘Look, it needn’t have been either of them; leaks rarely come from the most obvious point.’

‘It doesn’t help me, though.’

‘It gives me somewhere to start.’ He gazed into his webcam, and through it, into my eyes. ‘Primavera, I want you to give me an hour. Go away, do something, then come back to where you are and get back online. With luck, I’ll have come up with something.’

‘What are you going to do?’

‘What many people do these days when they’re up against it. I’m going to phone a friend.’