A Not So Perfect Crime Read Online Free PDF Page B

her time?” I started on my routine questioning. “Does she work? Travel a lot? Belong to any association? Follow a set time-table?”
    â€œLídia is an interior designer. She spends her day visiting furniture and design shops. She also belongs to a club
that’s close to home, where she spends a lot of her time ...” And, after a moment’s reflection, he added, “She also likes to do charity work and that kind of thing. She says it’s good for my career ... I mean,” he said hurriedly correcting himself, “that is what people in our position should do to help others.”
    And he added: “She is ambitious. Perhaps even more so than me. That’s why I am surprised she has got mixed up in an affair that might ruin my career. Lídia knows that whatever damages my prospects, will also damage hers. We have always prided ourselves on working as a team!” he declared forcefully.
    â€œI need to put a question to you, but I’m not sure how ...” Borja hesitated. It was always a touchy issue, but one you had to broach in certain circles. “Does your wife belong to the Opus Dei? Does she belong to one of those religious groups? ... I mean do the two of you ...”
    The question concerned the activities and connections of the said Lídia as much as her husband’s. We knew from experience that it’s better not to tangle with Opus members (or even worse with the whats-its of Christ). They are powerful and, since they have faith, they have no scruples, the one clearly cancelling out the other. Although Borja is rightwing, he particularly loathes this kind of fanatic.
    â€œWe do not belong to the Opus and are not Legionaries of Christ ...” our MP shook his head, somewhat offended. “Of course, we are Catholic, but not that kind. I suppose,” he allowed, “ it is one of the reasons I’m still not our party’s official candidate.”
    â€œBut everything points to you being selected this time round. They don’t seem to have many options,” I said, remembering what I’d read a few days ago in the press. “When does the committee meet to vote on the candidate? Soon, I expect? The elections are almost upon us ...”
    â€œAfter the holidays,” he confirmed. “Pressure has been brought to bear from some quarters, but I expect I shall be elected.” And then added, remembering why he’d come to see us. “If all this doesn’t get in the way, naturally ...”
    â€œNo reason it should,” my brother pronounced. “I must thank you for being so frank. It makes our life so much easier. We’ll set to work immediately and will keep you informed.” Borja paused and cleared his throat. “Well, we shall need a modest ...”
    â€œOf course, of course, I had anticipated paying you an advance,” the MP took a chequebook and a gold Parker from his topcoat pocket. “Will 3,000 cover it?”
    â€œOur advance is always 5,000,” lied Borja.
    â€œNot bad ... that’s more than half a million pesetas! ...” spluttered our putative client. No matter he was a rich man. Filthy lucre is always filthy lucre.
    â€œIf it’s not convenient ... We can settle later,” waxed a seemingly indifferent Borja. “We’re in no rush.”
    Our client seemed slightly put out and I felt a small surge of panic. Of course we were in a rush: we were both broke! Borja had surpassed his own arrogance by asking for so much, though I’d got used to my brother’s swagger many moons ago. I’ve never understood how he can uphold the notion he has no money worries when he’s without a cent to his name, and I’m still surprised how his insouciant manner always gets him his way. I sweat, stammer and go red in the face, and that’s why I prefer to keep my mouth shut when it’s time to talk money.
    â€œWho do I make the cheque out to? In your name, Mr