a terrorist, Don Eduardo. I think you know what that means regarding our investigation. So we would like you to accompany us down to the Jefatura and we will continue this interview under the terms of the antiterrorism-'
'Now, Inspector Jefe, let's not be too hasty,' said Rivero, blood draining from his face. 'You came here enquiring about the disappearance of Tateb Hassani. I have cooperated as best I can. Now you are changing the nature of your enquiry without giving me the opportunity to address the matter in this new light.'
'We didn't want to have to force your hand, Don Eduardo,' said Falcon. 'Let's go back to why you entertained Tateb Hassani as your house guest for five days…'
Rivero swallowed and braced himself against the desk for this next lap of the course.
'He was helping us to formulate our immigration policy. He, like us, did not believe that Africa and Europe were compatible, or that Islam and Christianity could cohabit in harmony. His particular insights into the Arabic mind were extremely helpful to us. And, of course, his name and stature added weight to our cause.'
'Despite the fact that he rarely visited his homeland, had spent his entire adult life in the USA and that he had to leave Columbia University under the cloud of a sexual harassment case, which cost him his apartment and all his savings?' said Falcon.
'Despite that,' said Rivero. 'His insights were invaluable.'
'How much did Fuerza Andalucia pay him for this work?'
Rivero stared into the desk, terrified by this burgeoning demand for more and more improvisation. How was he ever going to remember any of it? Fatigue got a foothold in his viscera. He viciously shrugged it off. He had to hang on, like a fatally wounded man he had to keep talking, to overwhelm any desire he might have to give up. The flaws were developing inside him. His shell had been weakening from the moment that DVD had come anonymously into his possession and he'd had to view the hideousness of his indiscretions. The cracks had spread further when Angel had come to see him. He had listened, his white mane of hair gone wild and his face battered by excessive alcohol, as Angel had told him how he'd saved him. The rumour had been rife, like a wildfire consuming the tinder-dry undergrowth, gathering strength to leap up into an enormous conflagration. Angel had saved him, but it had come at a price. The time had come to step down or be destroyed.
That conversation with Angel had weakened him more than he knew. Over the days the flaws spread through him until every part of him was ruined. Every step now was a step down into the dark. Murder had come into his house and a desecration of the sanctity of the body. He could not think, after it had taken place, how such a thing could have happened to him in a matter of weeks. One moment brilliant and whole, the next corrupt, fractured, fissured beyond repair. He had to get a grip on himself. The centre must hold.
'You must remember what you had to pay for such invaluable advice,' said Falcon, who had been watching this immense struggle from the other side of the desk.
'It was 5,000,' said Rivero.
'Was that with a cheque?'
'No, cash.'
'You paid him with black money?'
'Even policemen know how this country works,' said Rivero, acidly.
'I must say, Don Eduardo, that I do admire your poise under these very stressful circumstances,' said Falcon. 'Had I been in your shoes and found out that the man I'd paid €5,000 for his advice on immigration had also been involved in a terrorist plot to take over two schools and a university faculty, I would be in a state of shock. That this man should also have been responsible for writing out those appalling instructions to kill schoolchildren, one by one, until their demands had been met would devastate me, if I were you.'
'But then again, you are a politician,' said Ramirez, smiling.
Sweat was raking down his flanks, his stomach was embarking on a ferocious protest, his blood pressure was screaming in his ears, his heartbeat was so fast and tight that his breathing had shallowed, and his brain gasped for oxygen. And yet, he sat there, tapping the side of his nose, bracing himself against the desk.
'I have to say,' Rivero said, 'that I cannot begin to think what this means.'
'So, you had this dinner on Saturday night,' said Falcon. 'It wasn't served, but was laid out as a buffet. How many people attended that dinner? So far, we have yourself and Agustin Cardenas, but you'd hardly go to the trouble of a buffet for just two people, would you?'
'Angel Zarrias was there as well,' said Rivero, smoothly, thinking, yes, they could have Angel, he should go down with them, the little fucker. 'I quite often have buffets on Saturday nights, so that the servants can go home and enjoy dinner with their families.'
'What time did Angel arrive?'
'He was here around 9.30, I think.'
'And Agustin Cardenas?'
'About 10 p.m.'
'Did he arrive with anybody else?'
'No.'
'He was alone in the car?'
'Yes.'
'You're saying there were only three people for dinner?'
Rivero didn't care about the lying any more. It was all lies. He stared into his desk and let them fall from his tongue, like gold coins worn to a slippery smoothness.
'Yes. I quite often have a buffet and whoever turns up…turns up.'
Falcon glanced at Ramirez, who shrugged at him, nodded him in for the kill.
'Do you know one of your staff called Mario Gomez?'
'Of course.'
'It was he who laid out the buffet in the next room on that Saturday night.'
'That would be his job,' said Rivero.
'He told us that he'd served Tateb Hassani with at least one meal a day since he'd arrived in your house, up here in these rooms.'
'Possibly.'
'He knew who Tateb Hassani was, and he saw you accompanying him upstairs to dinner with Angel Zarrias at 9.45 on Saturday night. Some hours later Tateb Hassani was poisoned with cyanide, horribly disfigured and driven from here, in Agustin Cardenas's car, to be dumped in a bin on Calle Boteros.'
Rivero clasped his hands, drove them between his slim thighs and sobbed with his head dropped on to his chest. Released at last.
36
Seville-Friday, 9th June 2006, 01.45 hrs
'Great news,' said Elvira, sitting at his desk in his office in the Jefatura.
'Nearly great news,' said Falcon. 'We didn't manage to force Rivero into revealing the entire conspiracy. He only gave us two names. It's quite possible that we can charge the three of them, but only with the murder of Tateb Hassani and not the planning of the bombing of the mosque.'
'But now we can get a search warrant for Eduardo Rivero's house and the Fuerza Andalucia offices,' said Elvira. 'We must be able to squeeze something out of those two places.'
'But nothing in writing. You don't draw this sort of stuff up in the minutes of a Fuerza Andalucia meeting,' said Falcon. 'We have a tenuous link between Angel Zarrias and Ricardo Gamero, but no proof of what they discussed in the Archaeological Museum. We have no idea of the connection of any of these men to the people who actually planted the bomb. Both Jose Luis and I think that there is a missing element to the conspiracy.'
'A criminal element,' added Ramirez.
'We're sure that Lucrecio Arenas and Cesar Benito are in some way involved, but we couldn't persuade Rivero to even give us their names,' said Falcon. 'They could be the 'other half' of the conspiracy. Arenas put up Jesus Alarcon as a candidate for the leadership, so we assume that he is involved. But did Arenas and Benito make contact with the criminal element who planted the bomb? We're not sure we'll ever find out who, or what, that
