The Silent and the Damned aka The Vanished Hands

sweeping slowly around the room where his collection lay on tabletops and up against the walls. 'You know the worst thing you can say to a collector?'

'That you don't like a piece?'

'No… that you do like one particular piece,' said Ortega. 'I have a Picasso drawing. It's nothing special but you can't mistake it. I divide the people I show my collection into two groups. The ones who gravitate to the Picasso with the words, 'Now I do like that,' and the ones who realize that a collection is about the whole. There, Javier, I've saved you some embarrassment.'

'I'll make a point of telling you how much I love the Picasso.'

Ortega held up his spectacles with a roar as if he'd won the European Cup. He put his face into them almost warily, as if it might be some hair-trigger trap he'd set for himself.

'The ones who gravitate to the Picasso are the ones who are attracted to celebrity. They see nothing else.'

'Have you ever shown your collection to someone who's looked at the whole and found it…'

'Lacking?' said Ortega. 'Nobody has ever had the nerve to say that to my face. But I know there have been some.'

'Perhaps that means you've had the nerve to express everything through your collection. The good and the bad. We've all got something we're ashamed of.'

'You must see it, Javier,' he said urgently. 'The Actor's Collection.'

Ortega confirmed that the two men in the shots were the Russians he'd seen going into Vega's house back in January. He hurled the photographs back to Falcon and refilled his glass. He sucked on his Cohiba, which he still hadn't lit. The wine spots on his shirt had burgeoned with the sweat from his chest. He tore off his glasses.

'You remember our talk about Sebastian this morning?' said Falcon. 'Have you thought any more about that?'

'I have thought about it.'

'The clinical psychologist I told you about – a woman called Alicia Aguado. She's unusual.'

'How?'

'First of all, she's blind,' said Falcon, and told Ortega about her Chinese pulse-taking technique. 'I told her about your concerns for Sebastian. She thought it would be a good idea to meet. She realizes that famous people don't like intruders.'

'Bring her over,' said Ortega, charming and amenable. 'The more the merrier.'

'How about tomorrow?'

'Coffee,' he said. 'Eleven o'clock. And perhaps when you've taken her home you'd like to come back and I'll show you everything you need to know in the clear light of day.'

Consuelo Jimenez was wearing a long, blue crepe dress and gold sandals. Her bare arms were brown and muscular. She was keeping up the gym, and not just at a social level. She sat him in the living room, overlooking the sloppy blue ingot of the lit pool, and gave him a chilled glass of manzanilla. She put a tray of olives, pickled garlic and capers out on the table and kicked off her sandals. The ice in her tinto de verano clicked on the sides of the glass.

'Guess who came to see me this morning, full of wheedling charm and flattery?'

'Pablo Ortega?'

'For one of the great actors of yesterday he's a little too easy to encapsulate,' she said. 'It must mean he's got a limited range.'

'I've never seen him on the stage,' said Falcon. 'Did you let him in?'

'I let him suffer in the heat for a bit. I was interested to hear what he had to say for himself. He didn't bring his two stage props along – Pavarotti and Callas. So I knew he hadn't come to entertain the boys.'

'Where are your boys?'

'They're with my sister. She's taking them off to the coast tomorrow and they're too riotous for dinner. They'd want to see your gun.'

'And what did Pablo Ortega want?'

'To talk about Rafael's death and your investigation, of course.'

'I hope you didn't reveal my… indiscretion.'

'I used it,' she said, lighting up a cigarette, 'but not in an overt way. I just made him feel as if he was sitting on a bad sofa. He left more uncomfortable than when he arrived.'

'I'm taking a look at his son's court case,' said Falcon.

'Personally, I think the sentences for child abuse are too lenient,' said Consuelo. 'Once a child's been damaged in that way they can never recover. Their innocence has been taken away, and I think that's not so different to murder.'

He told her what Montes had explained to him about the manipulation of the boy's statement and Sebastian Ortega's refusal to defend himself.

'Well, that doesn't exactly renew my faith in the justice system,' she said. 'But I saw that glimmer of vanity in Juez Calderon when he was working on Raul's case.'

'Did you see anything else in him?'

'Like what?'

'What we were talking about before… like, say, Ramirez.'

'You mean, on the lookout for opportunities?' she said. 'Well, I spotted him as unmarried and therefore a free agent.'

'Yes, I suppose that's different.'

'Oh, I see, you're asking me why, since he's announced his engagement to your little truth-seeker, is he sniffing around Maddy Krugman?'

'Is there such a thing as pre-marital infidelity?'

'He was there this afternoon,' she said. 'As you know, I don't keep regular hours. I'm here when most people are at work or, in the case of Juez Calderon, when he should be at work.'

'Was Marty there?'

'I assumed it was to do with the investigation into Rafael's death,' she said, shaking her head.

'That would not be normal procedure.'

'He doesn't seem the sort to give a shit about normal procedure,' said Consuelo. 'Anyway, why should it bother you? You're not still interested in Ines?'

'No, I'm not,' he said, as if to emphasize it to himself.

'Liar. Don't make the same mistake twice, Javier,' she said. 'I know it's a deeply ingrained human trait, but it should be resisted, because all the pain that was there the first time round will be present and correct the second time round… and then doubled.'

'I keep hearing from women with the powerful voice of experience.'

'Listen to them,' she said, standing up and slipping on her sandals. 'I'm going to give you some food now and I don't want any more talk about these fools in love or your investigation.'

She served jamon on toast with salmorejo, crostini of grilled red peppers with an anchovy fillet, gambas al ajillo, octopus salad and piquillo peppers stuffed with saffron rice and chicken. They drank a cold red Basque rioja. Consuelo ate as if she'd starved herself all day and Falcon found the appetite that the summer heat had previously suppressed.

'You are allowed that shameful final piquillo pepper,' she said, lighting a cigarette. 'There will now be a pause before the main course.'

'I read in a magazine review that you knew how to do everything in your restaurants,' he said.

'It's all simple stuff done well,' she said. 'I don't understand those restaurants with a menu the size of a novel but which can't cook any of the dishes properly. Never spread yourself too thinly… neither in life, nor in love.'

'I'll drink to that,' he said, and they clinked glasses.

'A question -' she said. 'Not about your investigation, but it is connected to what happened… before. It's something I think about every day since Raul's past came out.'

'I know what you're going to ask.'