The Silent and the Damned aka The Vanished Hands

'This is admirable footwork on your part, Inspector Jefe,' said Vazquez. 'But are we any closer to understanding what happened to Sr Vega?'

'Sr Vega's Russian friends were known mafiosi. We think they were using these projects to clean up cash they'd been making from people-trafficking and prostitution. Why was Sr Vega involved with these people and why was he giving them extremely advantageous deals?'

'You can't possibly prove any of this.'

'Perhaps your office was involved in the property deals. Possibly you have the deeds here and a record of payments made?' said Falcon.

'You could remind yourself now,' said Ramirez.

'The only documents I have are the contracts for the building of the projects, which are in the archives, and the person who runs that is on holiday.'

'So the property deals were done direct between the original owner of the land and the Russians?' said Falcon. 'Did Sr Vega ask the original owner to give the Russians a sweet deal, which he would make up to them elsewhere?'

'I really don't know, Inspector Jefe.'

'But we could have a look at the sale details of the other plots – which I assume, as Sr Vega's lawyer, you were involved in – and make a comparison of the prices paid,' said Falcon. 'You do have those details here, don't you, Sr Vazquez?'

'I told you, the person who runs the archives is…'

'It doesn't matter. We can, of course, talk to the original owners of the plots. That's just the fine detail that the court will require,' said Falcon. 'What we'd like to know is why Sr Vega was involved with these Russians and expediting their money-laundering operations.'

'I don't know how you can justify that remark,' said Vazquez. 'There are two projects with these Russians. There are two contracts. There are two clear sets of books which show the financial involvement of both parties.'

'We've been around to see these projects,' said Ramirez. 'They were looking a little bare of people without the illegal labour.'

'That's the Russians' problem, not Vega Construcciones.'

'In that case,' said Ramirez, 'maybe you can tell us why Sr Vega kept another set of books for these two projects – the official version for tax purposes and his private version, which was the reality.'

'You might also venture an opinion on why Sergei, the gardener, has disappeared since the discovery of the body,' said Falcon. 'And why Sr Vega was getting social visits from his Russian clients at his home on Noche de Reyes, for instance. Doesn't that sound a little more intimate than the usual business partner?'

'All right, all right, you've proved your point,' said Vazquez. 'You've discovered a Russian connection. But that is all. If you want to know things about that relationship then I can't help you because I don't know anything. All I can say is… ask the Russians, if you can find them.'

'How do you contact them?'

'I don't. I drew up the contracts. They were returned to me by Vega Construcciones, signed and stamped,' said Vazquez. 'And you won't find anybody in their offices who's spoken to them either.'

'They must have phone numbers, addresses, bank accounts?' said Ramirez.

'You think they're the Moscow mafia.'

'We know they are.'

'Well, maybe they are. And maybe they had good reason to kill a man who was facilitating their business needs, but I can't think what that reason would be,' said Vazquez. 'And I doubt you'll ever find out if there was a reason and that they did kill him. These people keep themselves well removed from the situation. As I said, I've never met them. So, Inspector Jefe, Inspector… it's all in your hands now. You know as much as I do. Now, I think that concludes our business for this morning so… please excuse me.'

On the way down in the lift Ramirez jangled the change in his pocket. Falcon told him to get Cristina Ferrera to find the names of the original owners of the two plots sold to the Russians.

'That's police work for you,' said Ramirez, punching Ferrera's number into his mobile. 'One moment you think you've got them nailed and the next they've disappeared over the horizon.'

'What things do you know that I've never even thought about?' asked Falcon, remembering Ramirez's earlier comment.

'Even if we do find Sergei and he has seen something… what's he going to tell us?' said Ramirez, regretting his loose talk now.

'We were talking about Juez Calderon on the way up in the lift and you said that you knew things that I'd never even thought about, Jose Luis.'

'It was nothing… just something to say.'

'It didn't sound like that,' said Falcon. 'It sounded as if it was something about Juez Calderon that was personal to me.'

'It's nothing… forget it,' said Ramirez.

Ferrera came on the line and Ramirez relayed Falcon's message about the plots of land.

'Tell me, Jose Luis. Just tell me,' said Falcon. 'I'm not mad any more. I'm not going to throw myself into the traffic if you -'

'All right, all right,' said Ramirez, as the lift reached the ground floor. 'I'll ask you a question and you see if you can tell me the answer.'

They left the building and stood facing each other in the sweltering street.

'When did Juez Calderon and Ines start seeing each other?' said Ramirez.

Chapter 16

Saturday, 27th July 2002

Back at home, in the cool of his bedroom, Falcon stripped off the clothes that had marked him out to Ramirez as an amateur. He stood under the shower and stared out through the fogged glass doors and thought about the way Isabel Cano had spoken to him about Ines – 'an innocent little sweetie'. She knew. Those words that Inspector Jefe Montes had used about Calderon: 'You like him, Inspector Jefe. I'd never have thought it.' He knew. Felipe and Jorge. Perez, Serrano and Baena. The whole of the Edificio de los Juzgados and the Palacio de Justicia. They all knew. That's what happens to you when you're buried in your own life. You don't see anything. You don't even see that someone else is fucking your wife under your nose. He shook his head as he remembered that horrible algebra that the police psychologist had made him use. When did you split up with your wife? When did you last have sex with her? If we separated in July then it must have been May. That was May 2000.

He dressed and left the house. He needed another coffee before he went to pick up Alicia Aguado. He bought El Pais and went to the Cafe San Bernardo and ordered a cafe solo at the bar. Cristina Ferrera called from the Vega Construcciones offices giving him the details of the original owner of the plots who'd sold out to the Russians. Unfortunately the man was on holiday in South America and would not be back until September. She also mentioned that the accountant had hacked into Vega's address book and had found a number for the Russians. A single number for both Russians and it was in Vilamoura in the Algarve, Portugal.

He closed down the phone and tried to read his newspaper, but this time, rather than the humiliation of learning about a tawdry affair running through his mind, he found memories of last night surfacing. The sight of Consuelo astride him, the small strip of her pubic hair hovering over him. Her unswerving stare as she eased him into her. Her words: 'I want to see you inside me.' Christ. His throat was too tight for him to swallow. The newsprint blurred. He had to shake himself back into real life, the cafe, people sitting around.

Sex mattered to Consuelo. She was good at it. When her orgasm was coming she let out a kind of low, feline growl and when she came it was with a massive grunt of effort, like a sprinter hitting the finishing line. She liked to be on top and when it was over she knelt above him, hair hanging down, some of it plastered to her face, panting, unconscious to the world, her breasts shuddering with each breath. He thought sex with Ines had been good. He