‘Let’s not jump to conclusions yet, Inspector,’ said Calderon. ‘It’s something worth pursuing, that’s all. We should look at this sight lesson now.’
Ramirez took the card out of the evidence bag. There were two names written on the reverse side. Francisco Falcon and H. Bosch.
‘The card was tucked under the keyboard of the computer,’ said Falcon. ‘They could be access codes to files.’
Calderon double-clicked on the hard-disk icon and a box appeared demanding an access code. He typed in Francisco Falcon. The hard disk opened up to reveal twenty folders with nothing unusual about their names — Letters, Clients, Accounts, Expenses … They clicked them all open but only ‘Drawings’ demanded another access code. They typed in H. Bosch and it opened up another series of files. Calderon opened a file at random. It contained hundreds of photographs, each initialled and dated.
‘I hope we don’t have to go through Salgado’s entire collection of drawings to find what Sergio wants us to find,’ said Calderon.
Falcon scrolled down the list to the bottom.
‘Those last five are movies,’ said Calderon.
‘Maybe the photographs aren’t so innocent,’ said Ramirez.
‘They could be for insurance purposes,’ said Falcon.
Ramirez grabbed the mouse and double-clicked on the movie icon. The men flinched at the opening image of the movie which was framed by a small screen. It was of a boy tied face down on an old-fashioned leather gym horse. His face although slack and glazed over from drugs, still showed the worm of fear.
‘We don’t need to see any more of this,’ said Falcon.
‘Check one of the photographs,’ said Calderon. ‘All these files could be disguised.’
Ramirez opened one up. They all flinched again and gasped in disgust. That was enough for them and they shut the computer down.
‘We’d better let Vice take a look at this,’ said Falcon.
‘And where does this take us?’ said Calderon. ‘Why did Sergio draw our attention to that?’
‘It was a sight lesson,’ said Falcon. ‘He was just showing us the true nature of the man. If before you thought that Ramon Salgado was an elderly, lonely, wealthy, well-connected, respectable director of a prestigious gallery in Seville, then now you think differently.’
‘I think it’s a blind alley,’ said Ramirez. ‘It’s just another way to send us off on the wrong track. It’s no coincidence that Sra Jimenez is intimately connected to both victims.’
‘There was a third victim as well,’ said Falcon.
‘You know what I mean, Inspector Jefe,’ said Ramirez. ‘The puta was an unfortunate casualty and another way to confuse our investigation as well as use up our time. Consuelo Jimenez had all the information to set up her husband and, by the sound of it, Ramon Salgado, too. I still think we should take her down to the Jefatura and put her under some real pressure.’
‘Before we even think about bringing her in for questioning I would suggest that we search this house from top to bottom and send a team round to the gallery on Calle Zaragoza,’ said Falcon. ‘To take
‘And what are we looking for, Inspector Jefe?’ asked Ramirez.
‘We’re looking for an ugly connection between Consuelo Jimenez and Ramon Salgado,’ said Falcon. ‘So, leave Fernandez interviewing the neighbours here and take Serrano and Baena with you up to the top of the house and start working your way down behind Felipe and Jorge.’
Ramirez left the room. Falcon closed the door behind him, went back to Calderon sitting at the desk.
‘I wanted to talk to you in private for a moment,’ said Falcon.
‘Look, er … Don Jav—, Inspector Jefe,’ said Calderon, unprepared for this moment, the private and the official clashing in his mind. ‘I don’t know what happened last night. I don’t know what Ines said to you. I know, of course, that you … but she told me that it was finished, that you were divorced. I think you have to … I don’t know … I mean … What were you
Falcon was rooted to the spot. The morning had been so full that he hadn’t even thought about Ines. What he’d wanted to talk about in private was MCA Consultores S.A. and nothing to do with his private life. He stared into the floor, desperate for a time collapse that would bring him round a week later on another case with a different judge. It didn’t come and he found himself in one of those titanic struggles of the sort he watched suspects go through on their way to confession. He wanted to say something. He wanted to somehow address the complexity of his recent experience, to show that he, like Calderon, was capable of overcoming this embarrassing situation, but all he came up against was an immense entanglement. Falcon sensed himself in retreat. He fingered the buttons on his jacket as if to make sure they were well fastened.
‘It had not been my intention to talk about that at this juncture,’ he said, appalled at the pomposity and restraint in his words. ‘My only concerns are professional.’
He hated himself instantly and Calderon’s dislike of him hit him like a bad stink. He’d been given a civilized opportunity to come to an understanding and he’d shown it the cold heel of one of his laced-up shoes and now it was irretrievable.
‘What was it that you had on your mind, Inspector Jefe?’ said Calderon, crossing his legs with glacial calm.
Everything had gone to ashes in that instant. Falcon had failed on the human level with Calderon and it had tarnished his professional credibility. He sensed that there would be resistance to his ideas and perhaps worse: the man’s antipathy would turn against him. Calderon would never be an ally and any ideas that Falcon put to him might be furnishing an enemy with the means to destroy him. But he couldn’t help himself and he realized that it wasn’t his professionalism that made him tell Calderon about MCA Consultores S.A., it was his failure. It was because of
