The Silent and the Damned aka The Vanished Hands

there's no God that you have to reveal yourself to.'

'Inspector jefes are quite high up,' she said, smiling. 'And, anyway, it was a practice run for the real thing. I still have to tell my husband.'

Chapter 24

Monday, 29th July 2002

Falcon woke up from his siesta and slapped the alarm dead. He lay in the darkened room arms flung out, panting as if he'd surfaced, lungs bursting, from a deep lake. Something had hardened in his mind. What before had been a vague dislike of Ignacio Ortega had taken shape and become a determined mass that was going to put the child molester away for as long as possible. He was enjoying the anger just as Ferrera had when she'd first become a policewoman, roaming the streets of Cadiz, hoping to find those two brutes who'd raped her.

He showered, thinking about Ignacio Ortega. There was cunning in him. All those easy lies he'd told in their first meeting. The learned presentation of half- truths. He wondered if this had all started from envy – 'I was just an electrician and he was a famous actor.' Two men coming from the same brutal childhood, one becomes a famous actor who escapes into roles, while the other, anonymous and filled with hate, desecrates the innocence of children. Was there some strange balancing out going on in Ignacio's head?

As he dressed he remembered the point that had occurred to him whilst talking to Ramirez about the names in Vega's address book. There had been only one Ortega in it and no initial. He drove to the Jefatura, brought the address book up from the evidence room. He was right, no initial and the number, which was for a mobile, belonged to Ignacio. Another thought. He called Carlos Vazquez.

'Who does Vega Construcciones use to install the air-conditioning systems in their buildings?'

'It's put out to tender,' said Vazquez. 'There are four or five companies who compete with each other for the business.'

'Does any one company win more tenders than the others?'

'I'd say that seventy per cent of the work is done by AAC, Aire Acondicionado Central de Sevilla. It's run by a man called Ignacio Ortega, who only ever overprices himself if he can't do the work.'

He called Vega Construcciones and asked for Marty Krugman; still not there. Krugman answered his mobile. He seemed to be in heavy traffic from the noise. The signal was bad.

'I'm not supposed to be talking to you, Inspector Jefe, remember?' he said cheerfully. 'I haven't spoken to our cold, eastern friends yet.'

'Just one question about the Russian projects: who did you get to tender for the air-conditioning systems?'

'I didn't,' said Krugman. 'Rafael told me to use a company called AAC.'

'You didn't get a competitive quote?'

'He said the client had already authorized it.'

'How do you understand that?'

'It normally means that AAC is owed a favour, probably because they've done another job very cheaply for them.'

'Do you know Ignacio Ortega of AAC?'

'Sure, I've met him. He does a lot of work for the company. He's hard-nosed,' said Krugman. 'Is he related to Pablo?'

'They're brothers.'

'They don't look it.'

'What can you tell me about Ignacio and Sr Vega – their relationship?'

'Nothing.'

'Were they close?'

'I told you, Inspector Jefe…' said Krugman, and Falcon missed the end of the sentence as the signal started to break up.

'Can we talk face to face about this?' asked Falcon, thinking now more about what Guzman had been saying.

'It won't make any difference,' said Krugman. 'And anyway, I'm busy now.'

'Where are you? I'll come to you. We'll have a beer before dinner.'

'Now you love me, Inspector Jefe. What have I done?'

'I just want to talk,' said Falcon, shouting through the fracturing signal.

'I told you the Russians haven't contacted me yet.'

'This isn't about the Russians.'

'What is it about then?'

'I can't say… I mean, it's more about the Americans.'

'I'm getting nostalgic for those Cold War days,' said

Krugman. 'You know, it's an interesting thing… the Russians are a much more effective force as the Mob than they ever were as communists.'

The signal collapsed. Falcon redialled. Not available. Ramirez put his head in the office. Falcon briefed him on Salvador and Ignacio Ortega while he sat listening with his face all pushed up by his hand, mouth open, intelligent- looking. Before he could ask any questions Falcon briefed him about the conversation with Guzman, which left him with his eyelids at half mast.

'Joder,' he said, after some time, the Sevillano not particularly impressed by the developments. 'Have you talked to Krugman about this?'

'I've just lost the signal to his mobile, and anyway I need to sit in front of him if I'm going to talk to him about extra-curricular activity for the CIA.'

'I don't believe it,' said Ramirez. 'I think Virgilio Guzman lives in a fantasy world of conspiracy theories. We're in Seville here, not Bilbao. He's had his head turned by all that spying on ETA and the Guardia Civil.'

'Come on, Jose Luis, he's a respected professional.'

'So was Alberto Montes,' said Ramirez. 'What do you think Guzman's doing down here?'

'Something with less pressure than when he was in Madrid,' said Falcon.

'In my opinion,' said Ramirez, winding his finger around his temple, 'the guy's lost it.'

'Is this based on any empirical research, or just your gut feeling?' asked Falcon. 'What about Guzman's theory on the piece of paper in Vega's hand? Is that bullshit as well?'

'No, that sounds right. I like that. It doesn't help us, but I like it,' said Ramirez.

'It does help us; it narrows the search down for the FBI,' said Falcon. 'Have you heard from them yet?'

Ramirez shook his head.

'I want to find Krugman,' said Falcon.

'You're beginning to think that he killed Vega.'

'I have an open mind. He had the opportunity, given I hat Vega would have let him into his house at that time in the morning. And now we've got a possible motive, even if you do think it's Guzman's fantasy,' said Falcon. 'I'm also worried about Krugman. When I went to see him after we'd been to talk to Dourado, he seemed unstable. He was looking out of the window using a pair of binoculars.'

'Probably trying to see if his wife is fucking Juez Calderon, which is why we're not getting our search warrant.'

'So you do think that Vega was 'operating' in some way,' said Falcon. And you do think that what he has in his safe-deposit box is going to be important for us. You just don't think that Krugman -'

'Well, I wouldn't use Krugman for fucking anything, let alone an 'operation',' said Ramirez. 'He's too unpredictable. There's too much going on in his brain. But if you let me have his mobile number I'll get the boys in the telephone centre to keep trying it, and if he answers we'll track it.'

'Is anything happening with the Montes inquiry?'

'We're still waiting for Elvira to give us another pair of hands.'