unless you were dead or not into women.
The man that I had just lost was a regular customer at the restaurant. Me in the rain, him sitting in the comfort of a dry restaurant sipping wine, chatting to Eleven and nibbling on plates of hot food. The other guy in the photo was his mate. What in the hell was Eleven doing here with one of them?
Martin is holding back. I can’t believe that he hasn’t seen the men in the restaurant.
I wandered for a few more hours but there was no sign of Eleven and her man. It was getting late and I gave in and drove back to Inca.
Another day gone.
Chapter 52
Monday August 4 th 2008
What a fucking day.
I waited for Maria at the shop and, when she went home for lunch, I followed her. I had made up my mind to approach her before she got back to the flat: after spending the night trying to figure a way to beat the system.
I had visited the shop twice in the morning, once when it was busy and once when it was quiet. On both occasions Maria escorted me into the box room. Short of mugging her I was at a loss as to how to check out the code from the envelope.
On the way home she stopped at a corner store. I couldn’t see what she was buying but when she emerged I walked up to her and put on my best smile. She offered a polite but wary ola. I explained that I was on my way to the shop and had caught sight of her. I apologised for approaching her in the street.
‘Do you fancy a cup of coffee? I have a little favour to ask.’
I expected to be blanked but she surprised me.
‘There is a small cafe around the corner. Ten minutes and then I need to go.’
I smiled.
When we got in the cafe we sat at the only free table and she ordered an espresso. I doubled on that.
‘So how can I help?’
‘I have a small issue to do with a friend of mine,’ I started. ‘He is a customer of yours and, when he heard I was coming to Mallorca, he asked me to pick up something from his security box.’
‘And your friend’s name is…?’
‘Well there it gets a little more awkward. You see the account is not his. Well not strictly his. It belongs to a friend who passed away sometime ago.’
‘And their name is…?’
‘Eh? Well. Awkward. My friend won’t tell me but I have the code for the box.’
‘So let me get this straight. A friend of yours has an account with us. Rather a friend of a friend of yours does. Your friend wants the contents and gives you the code but you don’t know what this friend’s friend’s name is.’
I nodded.
‘Senor, I cannot help you.’
‘Look I know it sounds fishy but here’s the bottom line. I’ll give you the code. Go and check for yourself. I’m not sure the bloody thing exists. I’ve spent enough time on this already. I’m supposed to be on holiday.’
“So why did you open an account?”
“I wanted to check that it was possible. That’s why I came in twice this morning. I mean it sounds daft to me and I wanted to check that the code I have might be genuine. My account and the friend’s account numbers have the same number of digits‘.
‘I still cannot help.’
‘Look all I’m asking for is a little help.’
‘But I cannot open someone’s box.’
‘Why not?’
‘You are not the box’s owner so I cannot help.’
She drained her coffee. This was not going anywhere so I changed tack.
‘Do you enjoy your job?’
‘Si.’
‘It seems strange that you work on your own all the time. Don’t you have any help?’
‘It is the way my boss likes to run things.’
‘What do you do on your days off?’
She said nothing.
‘You do get days off.’
She went to stand up. I reached out and put my hand on hers.
‘Look I’m not an ogre and I’m not trying to chat you up. I just said I would pick up the contents for a friend and I like to keep my word.’
The chat up line was weak but to my surprise she sat back down.
‘Where are you from?’ I asked.
She opened up a little. Mainly small chat but she didn’t seem in a hurry to get away once she got chatting.
She was from Barcelona, although she had spent ten years working in London. This explained her excellent English. She had been working in hotels. Mostly cleaning. She knew she had no future in the UK and was tired of businessmen hitting on her. It seemed that some of the guests thought that the maid was a complimentary extra. Her sister lived in Palma and had told her that a friend of her husband’s was looking for someone who knew the UK, to manage one of his stores.
Maria had jumped at the chance and for a year she had managed the Palma branch of Mallorca Security.
Most of the customers were British and to her dismay the customers took it for granted she was on the game. Mallorca Security turned out to have a far sleazier clientele than even the worst hotels had exposed her to. She had complained to her boss who had moved her to the Inca branch.
Things were better in Inca. The new job was much like the old one, only quieter. At first there had been three of them working the shop but, earlier that year, this had been reduced to two and for the last three weeks she had been on her own. She worked six days a week.
‘I need to go now.’
I stood up to let her leave. She looked at me.
‘Come to the shop at six o’clock and I will see if I can help.’
With that she was off.
I have no idea why she changed her mind. I didn’t utter a word during her monologue. Maybe she just needed someone to listen. Maybe I look sympathetic. Maybe her money problems made her act a little irrationally. Although if she had such worries she never mentioned them. I didn’t care. This was the in I needed and the fact it didn’t involve breaking and entering was good news.
I was outside the shop before five thirty. I wanted to check that I wasn’t being set up. It had occurred to me, while lying on the hotel bed, that maybe she had decided to phone her boss and tell him about our little chat.
Two people entered and left as I looked on. Both looked like customers and, unless someone was hiding in the back shop, Maria seemed to be on her own.
I walked into the shop at six on the dot.
Maria smiled and gently nodded her head up and to the left. I put on my ‘what the…’ face and she did it again. I looked over and realised she was motioning towards the CCTV. I nodded and told her I wanted access to my box. She clicked the little gate that led to the box room door. I punched in my code and the door opened. I walked in.
Once inside the box room I looked round but there was no sign of a CCTV — but given the size of cameras
