"Sun and Shadow" - читать интересную книгу автора (Edwardson Åke)

13

The bank, Unicaja, had eventually received the money, two minutes before closing time, following three calls by Winter to his bank in Sweden: reference number, account number, Swift code. The bank did not accept payments in Spanish currency: Winter had no alternative but to pay the exchange fees.

He missed the feeling of having a plastic card in his hand. The notes were new and stiff in the inside pocket of his jacket. He paused as he emerged from the bank and took stock, determined to avoid crowds of people.

Another month, but it was still just as hot. That morning Salvador, his host at La Luna, had thrust his arms out wide and said something about el cielo azul. The blue sky, constantly hovering over the people who were desperate for some cooler weather.

Winter stood outside the bank in the main street, Avenida Ricardo Soriano. He felt hungry, more so than at any time since he’d arrived here. He turned right and bumped into Alicia. She was alone. Perhaps it was she who stopped and spoke to him.

“Have you sorted out your financial problems, Chief Inspector?”

“I’ve just picked up the money from Sweden,” he said, pointing at the bank window.

“That’s good.”

“It makes things easier.”

“Sí.”

“Now I can afford to have lunch.”

She checked her watch, but made no move to leave.

“Don’t let me keep you,” Winter said.

“I’ve just finished my shift,” she said.

“I see.” Winter shuffled uneasily. “I’d better have lunch before I drive out to the hospital.”

“Have you injured yourself as well, Chief Inspector?”

“Please call me Erik. No, my father is seriously ill. That’s why I’m here.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” She looked as if she meant it. She was wearing a skirt today, black, and a brown blouse that seemed to be keeping the heat at bay, despite its color. Winter had noticed that Spanish women seemed to survive the heat better than the men, who appeared to bluster their way through the day. The women dealt with it rather more elegantly. “I hope everything turns out for the best.” She seemed to be thinking about something, turned to look in the direction she’d come from, then turned back to face him. “Did you have anywhere particular in mind for lunch?”

“No… I suppose I’ll head in that direction. That way leads to the Old Town, doesn’t it? I haven’t seen much of Marbella yet. The town itself, I mean.”

Alicia looked at her watch again.

‘Anyway… there we are,“ said Winter, making as if to leave.

“There’s a good little restaurant a few minutes down the road. I can show you it, if you like.”

“Have you had lunch yourself yet?”

“No, not yet. But I usually just gulp down a sandwich when I get a moment.”

“I’ll be happy to treat you if you’d be so kind as to show me this place you mentioned,” Winter said.

It was in the Calle Tetuán and was called Sol y Sombra, specializing in fish and seafood. There were a few tables outside under parasols, and a large room that gave the impression of being cool, with white table-cloths and open windows facing the little pedestrian plaza.

“What do you think?” Alicia asked.

Winter noted a large glass counter with fish, prawns, and lan goustines on ice. Behind the counter was a proud-looking man with shiny black hair and a white shirt. A party of locals was sitting around one of the inside tables. A couple outside had just been served a bottle of white wine, now covered in condensation. It seemed to be hot everywhere, despite the parasols.

“This looks ideal. I’d like to sit inside. What do you think?”

“Okay.”

They sat down and the man from behind the counter came with the menu and a jug of water.

“I’d be grateful if you did the ordering,” Winter said.

“Are you very hungry?”

“Very.”

‘Appetizer and main course?“

“Sounds good… maybe something to pick at first.”

“Wine?”

“A glass, perhaps.”

Alicia ordered, and they were served with a carafe of wine, a basket of rye bread, and a few large, green olives. Winter poured the wine, which tasted of sun and soil.

“Do you work as an interpreter full time?”

“Just now I do. I’m actually a grammar school teacher, but… well, I got a bit fed up last year, and this is how it turned out.”

“Do you live here?”

“In Marbella, you mean? No, if only. But then somebody who’s just been robbed probably wouldn’t see it that way.”

“Apart from that it seems to be… a pleasant-enough town. Not all that many tourists. But it’s hardly high season.”

“It’s pretty good in the high season as well. Unlike where I live, Torremolinos.”

“Oh, Torremolinos.”

“Do you know it?”

“Everybody the world over must have heard of Torremolinos, surely? But I’ve never actually been there. Only seen it from a distance.”

“That’s the best way,” said Alicia. “That’s what everybody says, unfortunately.”

“Is it really as bad as that?”

“Worse. Maybe not the part where I live, but on the whole… Some people call it Terrible Torrie, and that’s a good name-although most of the awfulness is their fault.”

“Yes, I hear it’s very popular with the English.”

“The tattooed and shaven members of the population, that is. They’re escorted from the airport by the Guardia Civil and taken to their hotels in armored cars.”

Winter laughed, and coughed as some wine went down the wrong way. Alicia smiled.

“And that’s only the start of their vacation,” she said.

“And you live in the middle of all that?”

‘As I said, it’s not so bad where I live, overlooking an old fishing village called La Carihuela, a couple of miles outside the town. You can walk along the beach from there to Torrie. If you dare.“

“But you work here.”

“The police station is nicer here,” she said, taking a sip of wine. “The… clientele as well,” she added, looking at Winter and smiling again.

“My head’s more or less clean-shaven,” he said.

“But I don’t see the half-gallon glass of beer and a portion of fish and chips on the table in front of you,” Alicia said.

“What’s this?” Winter asked, indicating the two large plates the waiter had just put down on the table between them.

“Fish and chips,” said Alicia with a laugh. “But you’ll get something else in a minute or two.”

Morelius looked hard at his deep-fried prawns, but they seemed to have taken root in the foil container: he threw them in the trash bin. Everyone on television was going on and on about the millennium. Nobody had ever heard that word until a year ago.

If your work gets under your skin so much that you need to talk to a priest, you can’t be suitable for the job. You have to have a temperament that can cope with it. A surgeon at a cancer clinic can’t demand counseling after he’s been operating and perhaps speaking to a patient.

You simply barge your way through. Barge-your-way-through, Morelius thought.

“Penny for your thoughts,” said Bartram.

“Why? What do you mean?”

“You seemed so damned preoccupied.”

“I was thinking about the Gamlestaden Motorcycle Club, which’ll be having their Christmas party at Harley’s soon.”

“Hmm, that’s something worth thinking about.”

“I’ll miss it this year.”

“You know the date?”

“I checked.”

“The special call-out boys will sort that out. They’ll surround the place with five squad cars.”

Some people can cope with policing the streets, others can‘t, Morelius thought. I’m going to cope. I have so far, haven’t I? Haven’t I? I’ve been out there in the night.

“The girl who worked in the cloakroom at the Park Hotel died yesterday. Did you know that?”

“Eh? No. I knew she was in a bad way.”

“Her boyfriend seems to be about to follow her.”

“Really?”

“Do you think she took it herself?”

“The GHB, you mean? I wouldn’t like to say.”

“She wasn’t the type.”

“None of them ever is.”

“She was pretty.”

Winter said good-bye when they emerged into the Calle Tetuan.

“Perhaps we’ll meet again,” Alicia said. “You know where I am… if you feel hungry again and need some advice.” She looked at him. “Or if you run into any more trouble.” She gave him her business card. Winter put it in his pocket.

“Can I give you a lift if you’re heading east? I have a car down by the bank.”

“No thanks, I have a few things to see to and then I’ll take a bus. I hope everything turns out okay with your father.”

Winter nodded and they went their separate ways. He walked back to the avenida. The car was hot inside and out, and he could feel the sweat trickling down his back even before he’d sat down. His mobile rang.

“I can’t make it,” said his sister. He could hear her coughing again. “Tomorrow, though. For sure.”

“I’m on my way to the hospital again.”

“Is he still awake? Is he with it, I mean?”

“We had a little chat last night, in any case.”

“That’s good,” she croaked.

“I don’t know. He was trying to make a sort of farewell speech, but I wouldn’t let him.”

The wall surface was rough, like the trunk of a tree. Had he found the paintbrush somewhere in the flat? Or had he taken it with him? He was calm enough now to ask questions, but he couldn’t answer them.

There. He’d finished.

They followed his every movement. Him and her. He didn’t approach them. They just had to sit there, and he’d drawn up the blinds so that it wasn’t so dark inside. It wasn’t quiet in there either. It-wasn‘t-quiet-in-there-either. The music was on auto-reverse. The light from outside shone onto the other guy’s head as he kept an eye on everything from the sofa. Nothing moved. He was pleased that nothing moved. It had been harder with her, but now she was still as well, watching him. Nobody was laughing anymore. Who was in charge now? Who was making the decisions now?

He’d shown them.

He’d show him now, make him understand.

He switched off the music, but that was not good. He switched it on again, but lowered the volume and looked around. He could leave now.