‘Boss! What can I do for you?' Brian had been expecting a call from a friend to confirm a golf tie. Instead he heard Skinner's voice, crystal-clear, via satellite.
`You can listen and do what I ask. It'll keep my phone bill down if it's arranged at your end. I want you to contact Paul Ainscow and get him on the first plane out here. He's needed here now to go through the accounts of InterCosta. But you'll have to break some bad news to him. His partner Alberni hanged himself this morning. We found twenty-five grand's worth of used notes in his safe. It looks as if Pitkeathly's just the tip of the iceberg.'
Brian Mackie whistled. 'Tough on Ainscow. Is there anything else you want me to tell him?'
`No — other than that he should probably have legal advice handy, and a good accountant. We'll want to go through those books with a fine-tooth comb.'
`That's twice you've said "we", boss. Are you helping out there?'
`Yes. Arturo Pujol's asked me to give him a hand because of the UK interest. Sort of unofficial liaison.'
What's Sarah saying to that?'
Skinner laughed. 'He's cute, my friend Arturo. He invited her to observe their pathologist at work on Monday, knowing she'd jump at the chance. So she can hardly dig me up. Anyway, we're both keen that this is cleared up as quickly as possible, for the sake of Alberni's widow. Nice woman. Sarah's looking after her now. She's given her a sedative from the farmacia . . sorry, Brian, that's chemist to you! Okay, go on, get a hold of Ainscow. Tell him first available flight tomorrow, without fail! Tell him to let me know, through you, what flight he's on, and I'll have the Guardia pick him up from the airport. So long.
He hung up and went out to join Sarah on the terrace. He found her in a bikini, walking Jazz up and down in her arms. He was awake and as bright as the day, taking a greater interest than ever in his surroundings, and in the things going on about him. Sarah had dressed him in a pale-blue sun-suit, and a wide brimmed sunhat fastened under his chin.
`Here, gimme a shot,' said Bob. Sarah passed the wriggling baby to him and sat down on a cushioned sun-bed. She unclipped her bikini top, picked up a yellow bottle of Delial factor four, and stretched out on her back to prepare herself for the sun.
Shielding him from the sun with his body, Bob turned the baby to face the Bay of Rosas. The bite-shaped expanse of blue water seemed to be alive with windsurfers. 'Fancy some of that, Jazz boy?' The baby wriggled and gurgled in his arms. 'Never done any myself, but I'm sure it'll become second nature to you.'
He felt the wriggling subside. 'Time to go back to the buggy, is it? Come on, then.' He laid the unprotesting baby in his mobile crib and, stripping off his shirt, settled on a recliner alongside Sarah.
`Is Gloria out for the count?' he asked.
`Yes. I found a good strong sedative down there. It isn't really over-the-counter stuff, even here, but I flashed my stethoscope and ID at him, and used Arturo's name to back them up. He came across without an argument.'
`How long will she be out?'
`Let's see. It's three now. I'd say till seven, anyway. I've got some Librium for when she wakes up. When did she think her father would get here?'
`She hoped he'd make it for eight. Where will they stay?'
`At her place. I asked her if she wanted them to be booked into the Bonaire or the Nieves Mar, but she said no. I suspect she was worried about cost, but she didn't say so — just that she'd have to face it some time, and it might as well be now.'
`She's a brave lady.'
A thought struck Sarah. 'God, I wasn't in the house, but didn't you say that it looked as if a bomb had hit it. I really hate the thought of her going back to the debris of last night's party with Santi and their friends and all.
`No, that won't happen. Arturo set half a dozen of his finest to making the place look spotless. I told him he should have used the Policia for that, but he said he didn't want any breakages.'
'Yes! That man with the hat, wasn't he awful! Gloria told me about the stretcher. She said she thought you were going to hit him.'
The thought did cross my mind. Arturo's too. What a bollocking he gave the guy — Chief of Police or not.'
`You'd better not park on any yellow lines in L'Escala for a while!'
Bob laughed. The only line I'd like to park on is the one round that pillock's hat.' He propped himself up on an elbow, and picked up the sun cream. 'Want your back done?'
Nope. It's not too comfortable lying face-down right now. The D cups are still pretty tender, thanks to the milk monster over there!'