‘What’s the point? It’s obviously switched off.’
‘Where are they?’ Baroni stomped across the gravel to the entrance of the Palacio Hotel, not caring, it seemed, if Abby and Ellie were to drive in. Except they wouldn’t, thought Matteo. They should’ve arrived hours ago. Santini was sitting on a wall, smoking.
Baroni spun around, fixed Matteo with an accusatory glare. ‘Did you call her again earlier? Tell her about this?’ She waved her arm at the hotel.
‘When was I supposed to do that? I’ve been with you the entire time.’
Baroni glowered at him, then stared out at the dark road. ‘They’re not coming. They’ve either changed their minds or...’ She shrugged in frustration.
Or what?thought Matteo. That was the trouble. Something had happened to his wife to make her change her plan to meet him and he couldn’t think of one positive explanation as to what that might be. Which left him with only a dark sense of foreboding.
SIXTY
Susanna had needed a drink after her mother had left. She’d looked through Abby’s kitchen cupboards until she’d found a bottle of wine and then searched in frustration for a corkscrew. The wine was warm so she’d added a handful of ice cubes to the large glass and taken several great gulps. Then she’d laid her hands on the counter and allowed herself to think about what had just happened.
Everything will go to me.It was huge – millions. The house itself was worth five million, the business – well, she had no idea, but it would be another significant chunk. She would never have to worry about money again.
Susanna picked up her glass and made her way outside to the terrace. It was late now and the crickets had quietened. Peace reigned. The stars were out. Susanna stared up at them, thinking what a perfect place this was. How it might now be possible for her to own such a place. To never have to live through a British winter again. To pack in her menial job. She could do anything; she’d never be fearful of what her future held. It was like a fairy tale with a happy ending.
Her mother was sorry. That’s what she’d said. She’d actually admitted that she’d been a poor parent, that she’d treated her own daughter badly. Old memories came flooding back and Susanna took another gulp of wine. It was so long ago. She found herself looking at the olive tree next to her on the terrace. Her eyes sought out a branch, quite thin and without any burrs or small twigs attached to it as they hurt so much. It wasn’ttoothin as that was another mistake. If she chose a branch that was too slight, her mother would make her pick another, something with more weight. Susanna instinctively rubbed her fingers against her palms, remembering the lashings. If she couldn’t list the capital cities of Europe or recite her times tables. Her mother had said it would focus her attention.
As Susanna had got older the physical punishments had lessened but the control had been tighter. Kathleen had very strict ideas on which friends her daughter saw and boys were taboo. She went to an all-girls private school and wasn’t allowed out after nine o’clock at night – even in her late teens. After school was completed, she was brought into the fold of the business, under the tutelage of her father’s right-hand man.
Susanna hated it all but was too terrified to change anything. She didn’t know how. Once, when she had said she was meeting a friend from school on a Saturday evening, her parents had found out she’d actually gone for a drink with a boy. In punishment for being deceitful, her parents had removed her bedroom door. She had no privacy, not even to get dressed.
Miserable, Susanna could see no way out. Then, one lunchtime, she’d gone to her usual sandwich bar and been approached by a man who was so good-looking he gave her goosebumps. Danny told her he worked in some offices along the street. She told him she worked for her father’s business. He’d asked her out, later saying he’d fallen for her the first time he’d seen her. He was the epitome of joy and freedom and his charm was an ointment for her damaged self-esteem. Susanna had sneaked out on dates for three months, always nervous as hell that her parents would find out, as she was certain they’d disapprove of him. Just when she thought she couldn’t take the pressure of lying to them any longer, he proposed. They were only twenty, but of course she said yes.
Her parents had been apoplectic, but Susanna knew they couldn’t stop her. Not when she felt so empowered now Danny had promised to look after her. Before long she was pregnant. Abby was born and Danny was disappointed at how his in-laws refused to help financially. They struggled on his salary, with Susanna then out of work as she was no longer welcome at her father’s company. The early devotion Danny had shown her quickly evaporated and he became more absent, no longer returning for bath time and spending his weekends doing overtime at the office.
Ben came along a year later and Danny was overjoyed at having a son. For a while, to Susanna’s relief, things between the two of them got a bit better. Then Danny was passed over for a promotion and they had been counting on the salary increase. It was a real blow. Danny returned to working late and Susanna hated being in the house alone. Worse, she hated the feeling that he was avoiding her. She tried to tempt him back, made sure she didn’t complain when he rolled in at ten at night, smelling suspiciously of booze. She still gave him sex when all she wanted to do was curl under the covers and pass out with tiredness. Once, as he climbed into bed, she thought she could smell perfume on him, but when she tentatively asked him about it, he snapped and produced a bottle from his jacket pocket. A gift, he’d said, a surprise he was saving for her. She’d immediately felt guilty but wondered why he hadn’t given it to her straight away. She also wondered why he would have sprayed the testers on himself; it seemed out of character to her – he was too image-conscious to put women’s scent on his own skin. But by now she was pregnant again and terrified of being left alone. She still had no contact with her parents and was struggling with two demanding children, one of whom had recently been ill.
One day Susanna got home from taking Abby and Ben to the park and found a note from Danny on the kitchen table. He said he ‘couldn’t handle it’. She tearfully begged him to reconsider when he phoned, but he became embarrassed, didn’t want to have anything more to do with her. He wouldn’t tell her where he was living and said something vague about staying on a friend’s sofa, of it not being suitable for young children. He said that once he was ‘settled’ he would arrange to have the children for visits. She couldn’t argue, not when he sent monthly bank deposits. They kept her afloat – it wasn’t enough to feel flush with cash but it kept them with food and clothes and a roof over their head. She often felt guilty that Danny must have been struggling to survive himself – with the amount he was sending, she thought it would be impossible for him to afford his own place.
Then tragedy hit. Ben died and Susanna was devastated. It hit Danny hard too but still he wouldn’t come back to her, wouldn’t comfort her. At the funeral, Susanna learned why. He turned up, face reddened with tears, clutching the hand of a woman who was a decade older and owned an immensely successful recruitment business. Susanna had always pictured him sleeping on a crusty old sofa, no space or privacy, whereas he’d been living in a six-bedroomed mansion the whole time. She was dumbfounded. All that time he could have taken the children and he hadn’t. All that sympathy she’d thrown his way. It had all been lies and she was the fool who had fallen for them.
Soon after, Danny had a new family and they were completely forgotten – except for the monthly deposits, which Susanna knew were paid for by his new, wealthy wife.
All of that misery and shame could be wiped out now. Her mother was offering peace, reconciliation. The only thing she had to do was change her story. Say that it wasn’t Abby who had harmed her children – it was herself.
SIXTY-ONE
Dawn broke over the wooded hills south of San Sebastián, the light creeping like tendrils through the trees. A low mist hung near the ground, clinging to its last few minutes before it was obliterated by the growing power of the sun. A buzzing sound came from where the track ended and the pines began. Low at first, hardly impacting on the consciousness; then, going closer, it became louder, more chaotic.
A mass of black flies swarmed, darting in and out, landing on the source of their frenzy.
Matteo stood and looked at the body lying on the track. A man, believed to be in his early twenties. He lay on his back, his face exposed to the flies. They flew freely in and out of his open mouth, landed on the jellied surface of his staring eyes.
Lieutenant Baroni was standing next to Matteo, also looking at the victim of what was clearly a murder. Blood soaked the ground. The forensic team were efficiently cordoning off the scene of the crime. The dog walker who’d called it in was being comforted somewhere down near the road with a strong coffee.
‘It’s a known criminal,’ said Baroni as the Spanish police busied around them. ‘Someone they’ve had dealings with before.’
Matteo said nothing. He knew she was saving the best for next.
‘You think that bullet they pull out of him will match those in your gun?’
Possibly.Matteo’s stomach sank like a stone.Or is it probably?
Baroni turned to look behind her, beyond the parked-up police cars. ‘Tyre marks veering haphazardly from one side of the track to the other. Looks like a fast getaway.’ She turned back to him. ‘They’ll be able to match the tread. Could well be a Fiat 500.’
