A Fatality in Spain, page 16
Sean’s eyes went wide. “You think that Perez was really responsible?”
“Well, think about it. We knew it had to be someone who wasn’t afraid of El Gordo. Whose appearance at the corral wouldn’t raise suspicion.”
“But why was it in Luis Castrovilla’s things? And why didn’t he say anything?”
“Well, I was thinking about it, and it makes sense. Castrovilla was managed by Perez, too. De Leon had warned Castrovilla to stay away from Perez, but Castrovilla thought he had a good relationship with Perez and didn’t want to get his manager in trouble. So he kept quiet about it.”
Sean nodded. “Makes sense.”
“You remember how Perez was, too. There was something oily about him. Something off. He didn’t have much love for De Leon, but he did love the money he brought in. And of course Perez would say he was on the course, watching the event, near the bullring. I bet no one actually remembers him being there, though.”
“You’re probably right,” he said, stroking his chin. “So you did it, macushla. You found the real killer. What do we do now? I think we should go to see what Mr. Perez has to say for himself.”
“I agree,” she said, with a smile. “Let’s just make one small stop, first, to be absolutely sure.”
Sean smiled and stepped aside. “All right. Lead the way.”
*
Perez’s office was only a block away, but unfortunately, when they got there, the place was locked up, a CERRADO/CLOSED sign hanging askew in the window. Frowning, Diana paced the area, wondering what to do.
“Maybe we should just go to the police . . .” Sean suggested.
She checked her phone. “It’s not ten o’clock yet. Maybe he opens later? Let’s just wait.”
By then, the rain had stopped. They sat on the curb, even though it was wet, and Diana pulled out her phone. She had a message from Lily: I just heard that you are going to give away Vidal at the wedding? Seriously?
Diana sighed. “Vidal” was her daughters’ name for their soon-to-be stepmother because she was all about her hair. Diana’d probably get an earful from both of her kids for that decision to walk her down the aisle. They both thought that their father marrying Tilda was a mistake, but the truth was, Diana had learned to rise above it. It was better to get along. So she typed in: Yes. I think we all need to be a little nicer and respect your father’s decision.
As she pressed “send,” Sean nudged her hard at her elbow. She looked up to see Perez, walking their way. The graying, slight man was wearing a shabby suit and had a pronounced limp she hadn’t noticed before. He said, “Ah, my friends from yesterday. Are you waiting for me?”
“Yes, Señor Perez,” she said, scrambling to her feet as the man fiddled with the key to the office. “Can we come in?”
“Of course. I doubt I’ll have much to do considering all the bullfights in the area are still suspended. I should’ve gone on holiday,” he said jovially, in a way that made him seem very pleasant. It almost hurt Diana to have to accuse him. But if he was guilty, and it seemed he was. . . at least of blackmail, which was nasty business . . . then she had to do it.
When they got inside, he pointed to the coffee maker in the corner of the office. “Would you like some? I could make a pot?”
“No,” Diana said shortly, looking at Sean, who also seemed a little reluctant. Perez needed to stop being so nice to them, or else she’d never be able to confront him. “I just had a couple more questions for you about your relationship with Alfredo De Leon.”
“Oh, yes. Come on in my office. You’ll be more comfortable there.”
By the time they sat down across the desk from him, Diana was ready to burst. She said, “I’ve come to find out that many people knew De Leon intended to retire. His wife, the Arroyos . . . it was common knowledge on the bullfighting grapevine. And yet you did not know? I find that very strange.”
“Well,” the man said pleasantly, lacing his fingers together in front of him. “He might have batted the idea around, but never seriously. He was flighty, prone to moods. He couldn’t decide what to do from day to day. And bullfighting is not an easy business, so it’s common for fighters to have crises of confidence.”
“So he never came to you and announced plans to retire?”
“No. Of course not. If he’d been serious about it to others, I might be the last person he would tell, because he wouldn’t want to disappoint me.”
That made sense. Unfortunately. She gnawed on the inside of her cheek and finally took a deep breath. “How long had you been blackmailing De Leon to stay in bullfighting?”
He visibly stiffened. “What?”
“You knew he’d paid off some officials in order to get into certain fights. And you knew that if the world knew about it, his reputation would be ruined. So you held it over him, insisting that he stay in fighting and not retire. True?”
Perez swallowed. “That is ridiculous.”
“But then De Leon decided he’d had enough of it and intended to out you for blackmailing him. And you knew that would ruin your reputation,” Sean said. “So you let the bull loose that killed him, removed the barrier, and . . .”
“No!” His face now red, he stammered, “Well . . . all right. Yes. Alfredo did want to retire. And I was doing my best to convince him not to. I told him that if he left me, he’d never work in the town again. And I told him I’d make it difficult for him if he did. But I never intended to go through with any of that. And my God, I didn’t kill him. That’s for sure.”
So he was just going to deny it? Diana decided she had no choice. She pulled out the letter and held it in front of him. “So where did this come from?”
He read it, confusion dawning on his face, giving way to indignation. “What . . . where did you get this?” When Diana didn’t answer, he looked up. “I didn’t write this. This is a sham! Someone’s trying to frame me!”
“Who?” Sean asked.
His face went blank. “I don’t know. Someone. De Leon had enemies, yes. But I had them, too. People were jealous of my success with bullfighters and wanted to take my business. That’s what this is.” He stood up and pointed to the door. “I want you out of here. Now. Both of you.”
The two stood up in unison.
As they did, the front door opened, and the police swarmed in, Detective Carrera at the head. “Right on time,” she said, smiling. It was a good idea that they’d stopped there, earlier, to inform Carrera of the letter they’d found. He’d agreed that the letter was evidence enough to take Perez in for questioning.
“We heard everything,” Carrera said, motioning to his officers. “You’re under arrest, Juan Perez.”
CHAPTER TWENTY ONE
After that, everything happened so quickly.
Flabbergasted but beaten, Perez stood and allowed them to snap the handcuffs onto his wrists. He shook his head as they led him away. “This is all wrong. I’m innocent. I’m telling you. I had nothing to do with De Leon’s death.”
“You’ll have to take that up with the legal system,” Carrera muttered as he was dragged out.
Carrera stopped in front of Diana, and for a moment, she thought he might thank her. Instead, he simply nodded, and continued on his way.
“I think that was his way of saying much obliged,” Sean said with a shrug, reaching out a hand to her to shake. “Good job, lieutenant.”
She shook his hand, and together, they walked outside. “I can’t believe that happened.”
By the time they got to the sidewalk, the police cars were heading away, toward the station. “Well,” he said, “It was all because of your remarkably daring sleuthing skills. You have a career in that, I think, if you want one. Ever fancy yourself a private detective?”
“No. I really couldn’t have done it without your help. You and that ridiculous hat of yours.”
He laughed and peeled the hat from his head, looking at it sheepishly. “That’s right. You’re a good sport. Most women would’ve stolen this hat and burned it by now.”
“I actually think it makes you look quite a bit more dashing,” she teased.
They walked along the street, to the front of the bullring.
“I wonder if they’ll start up the bullfights again, now that they’ve caught the killer?”
He shrugged. “Well, even if they do, I don’t want to see one.”
“You don’t? But you were so excited—"
“Yes, but you’re right. It’s violent business. I’m not sure I’m interested anymore.” The walked a little farther, toward the festival, and he said, “Well, you are free, now. I suppose that means we can be on our way.”
“You always could have been on your way, anytime you wanted to leave,” she said to him. “But I appreciate you staying with me while I was stuck here.”
“Ah, I couldn’t abandon you. After all, I was the one who suggested you come on this crazy adventure.”
She smiled. “You didn’t force me into the Running of the Bulls.”
“Oh, I just about did. And you behaved magnificently.” They stopped at a corner, and he turned to her. Here they were, at a crossroads, and it felt like their relationship was at one, too. She looked up at him as he said, “You’re quite a woman.”
“Why, thank you,” she said, her cheeks heating. She quickly added, “And you’re quite a man. So did you have any idea about what comes next on this adventure? More tooling around Pamplona?”
He shook his head. “I think, personally, I’ve seen all I need to see of this town. What do you think?”
“I agree.” It was funny how, every time she was cleared of a murder, she couldn’t wait to leave town. It wasn’t that the place had soured; it was just that she felt like she’d done everything she needed to do.
“I think one more night here ought to do it, and then it’ll be time to head out. After all, the accommodations aren’t ideal, thanks to me.”
“They were fine,” she told him honestly. They hadn’t spent much time at all in the flat, anyway. “But yes, it will be nice to move on.”
“It will be. Any thoughts as to where you want to go?”
She noticed that he hadn’t said whether he’d be going with her. So maybe this was the end of their time together. Maybe he had other plans. He hadn’t even spoken to her of his past life, except to say that he was in sales. Who knew? He might have had a family at home, a wife. Someone he was planning to spend his next stop with. “Well, I was thinking I might just do that pilgrimage. I might not discover myself, but it looked like it had very pretty scenery. And I could use the exercise.”
He lifted an eyebrow. “Do you want company?”
Her eyes widened in surprise. “I thought—”
“I know what I said,” he grumbled with a shrug. “But what can I say? It might be superstitious nonsense, but it does have lovely scenery. And who knows, maybe it will prove me wrong, and I will learn something about myself I never knew.”
“Really?”
“Yes, and I’ve always wanted to see that cathedral at Santiago de Compostela. I hear it is quite a sight.”
“All right.” She felt a shiver of excitement down her spine and found that she was more enthusiastic than ever about the idea of heading off on the trail. Not because she didn’t believe she could do it alone, but because despite all of his eccentricities, she really liked Sean. She didn’t want to have to say goodbye. At least, not yet. “That sounds great. But . . .”
“But?” he prompted. “Is something wrong, lass?”
“Well, I don’t know. You tell me. You’ve never told me anything about your life, and I’ve been a little afraid to ask. You’re very congenial, you like to talk and ask me questions, but you never say anything about yourself!”
Confusion flooded his eyes. “Ah . . . haven’t I?”
“No! And I had to wonder. You said you’ve been puttering around Europe for months. You had to have left something behind? Do you have family? A life? Anything?”
He stared at her, his expression softening. “That’s right. I suppose I haven’t been very talkative about that. I apologize. It’s not something that I talk about often.”
“Oh, well, you don’t have to—"
“No.” He held up a hand. “I want you to know. It’s only fair to you. I’d hate for you to think I’m not being honest with you, love, but it is a bit of a sordid tale.”
She held her breath, waiting.
“My wife, Maggie, who gave me six children, now grown, died, six months ago,” he said, his voice full of uncharacteristic seriousness. “It was very sudden. She was only fifty-five.”
Diana brought a hand to her mouth. “Oh, my goodness. I’m sorry.”
“When it happened, my kids were out of the house. They tried to take care of me, but they have their own families now. Maggie and I were very close. We spent every day of our lives saving up, because we planned to take a trip around Europe, one day. We never got there,” he said. “She wouldn’t have wanted me to sit around and mourn her. And so this is my way of doing exactly what she would’ve wanted for me.”
Diana nodded, tears in her eyes. “I’m so sorry. But should I be on this trip with you, then, if—”
“I think you and Maggie would’ve gotten along. You two are very alike,” he said with a sad smile. “You’re a tad bit more tenacious than she is, solving those murders. But I like it, I do. And I’ll be honest with you, the first few months of my travels, I couldn’t bring myself to have fun. I was just going through the motions. But this time, with you? It’s been fun. More fun than I knew I could have. And I think my Maggie would be happy to know you and I are having fun, together. That’s all she’d want.”
Diana took his hand. “I’m really glad to have met you. I was only going through a divorce, but I remember thinking I’d never be able to climb out from under it. Now, it doesn’t seem so bad. And I think you had a lot to do with that.”
As they stared into each other’s eyes, all Diana could think about was her reason for making this trip in the first place. It hadn’t been a voyage of finding something new about herself. Truth be told, it wasn’t to find a lost love that she knew, deep down, she’d never meet again. It was to find an old part of herself. That fanciful girl she’d long-since buried, the one who believed in true love, the one who believe the world was hers to be conquered.
So when he leaned in to kiss her, she closed her eyes, and when his lips pressed against hers, she felt the same butterflies that had fluttered about wildly during her very first kiss.
It was a very nice feeling, indeed.
“So you are Catholic. Tell me,” she said when they’d pulled apart. “What is the story of St. James? Why do people from all over make the pilgrimage to that cathedral?”
“His remains are supposedly buried there.”
“And he’s important?”
She was embarrassed that she knew nothing about religion at all, but Sean gave her an understanding pat on the hand. “He was one of the twelve apostles. Together with his brother John, they were the Sons of Thunder. He was the first of the apostles to be martyred for his beliefs. And he’s the patron saint of Spain.”
“Son of Thunder?”
He chuckled. “Had a bit of a temper, he did. Wanted Jesus to use the power of God to strike down their enemies.”
“Hmm. That is nothing like Evan. He’s agreeable to everything.”
“And you?”
“Well, I’m agreeable to some things.”
“And what do you say we go back to the flat and pack, and then go out on the town for one last fling in Pamplona?” he asked, holding out his arm to her.
She nodded. “I’m agreeable to that.”
She looped her arm through his and they walked back to the flat, like two young, star-crossed lovers, to get ready for the next leg of their adventure together.
CHAPTER TWENTY TWO
Sean held Diana’s hand as they took a street away from the festival crowds, climbing up the crooked cobblestone street until they reached a small bistro in a wooded, residential area. Diana looked around, charmed by the tiny homes and shops, and the center square, complete with bubbling fountain. “This is so cute. I can’t believe you’ve never been here before.”
Sean grinned. “I have not, macushla. I promise. I asked Enrique to recommend to me the most romantic restaurant off the beaten path, and this place was his idea. So blame him if it’s terrible.”
The place was called Casa Azul, and it was, indeed, a Blue House, on the corner. It was the shade of the night sky, the windows blazing with yellow light. There were potted plants and flowers surrounding the place, and a white picket fence leading out to a garden, adorned with fairy lights. He led her inside, and the hostess took them upstairs to a balcony in the back of the house, overlooking the dimly lit garden.
It was definitely romantic, with a soft breeze blowing and soft instrumental music being piped in from inside. “Oh, this is lovely,” she said, sitting and opening the menu.
“No octopus this time,” Sean said with a wink.
“Then what will you get?”
He shrugged. “I have an idea. Since it’s our last night in Pamplona, let’s really go wild. Let’s have them surprise us. Tell them to give us their best, whatever it is.”
She laughed. After all she’d been through, she felt just brave enough to go ahead and do that. No questions. She closed her menu. “That sounds perfect.”
He motioned to the waiter and ordered a bottle of red wine. Then he spoke in Spanish to the waiter, telling them just what they’d like to do. The waiter’s eyes gleamed with excitement. He nodded, collected their menus, and headed off.
Sean leaned forward. “I think now we’ve done it. We’re in for it.”
“Oh, come on. After everything, I don’t think I can be surprised by much,” she said, placing the napkin on her lap. “Besides, I scanned the menu. It was in Spanish, but nothing looked too crazy. You’ll probably have them give us the most expensive items on the menu.”
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