Troubled Deaths Read Online Free PDF Page A

that is all. I said to Luis, “Do you think Garcia can be anything to me but someone to laugh with and talk to? You are my husband. He is just a boy!” ’
    Her friendship with Garcia was no concern of his so long as Garcia did not try to come to Ca’n Ritat whilst Luis was away. And no matter what, no woman in full bloom was going completely to ignore the admiration of a handsome man of her own age. Still, it was right a husband should be jealous.
    She was disappointed when he remained silent. ‘The señor wants lettuce for lunch,’ she said, speaking rather sullenly, ‘so pick me two.’
    ‘Two?’
    ‘He’s having company.’ She was far too cheerful by nature ever to remain annoyed for long and now she giggled. ‘Special company, he calls her.’
    ‘What does that mean? Another whore?’
    ‘Some of ‘em dress more like grand ladies.’
    ‘The more paint, the bigger whore.’
    ‘And how would you know?’ she asked archly. ‘Or did you do much more than just fight in the war?’
    ‘If I did it was all a long time ago.’
    ‘Just as well! . . . You ought to get married again.’
    ‘I’ve suffered enough for one life.’
    She laughed. ‘Come on, you old misery, how about those lettuces?’
    He left and walked back to the long kitchen garden. He chose the two thickest-hearted plants and pulled them, knocked off the earth from their roots against the heel of his shoe, then stripped off some of the outside leaves. He returned to the drive and handed her the lettuces.
    He watched her walk back to the house, hips swinging.
    Freeman briefly looked at his plain gold Previn wristwatch. Ten minutes late, which for this island was early. A woman pushing a pram, began to cross the road without looking and he hooted, making her start. The locals had the traffic sense of half-witted Hottentots, he thought with sharp annoyance.
    He turned on to the front road and went along past the end of the central island to swing round so that he could drive back up to the cafe. He passed one of the hotels and then saw Veronica at a table at the first cafe. She was staring to her right, trying to identify him as he drove out from the Llueso road. She’d missed him because she’d no idea he had a Mercedes.
    He braked to a halt and still she didn’t look round. She was wearing a very tight blouse and a skirt which was too short: she had used over-much make-up. Flashy, he thought, but flashiness had always held a perverse attraction for him.
    He pressed the switch and the nearside front window wound down to the low hum of an electric motor. ‘Hi, there! Looking for someone?’
    Startled, she turned. She noticed the car and although she tried to hide the fact, he could see she was impressed by its opulence.
    ‘I’m going for a drive. Care to come along?’ he asked facetiously.
    ‘You’re late, Geoff, and I was beginning to think . . .’ She stopped.
    She’d begun to think he couldn’t be bothered. Probably she’d been all ready to bitch if and when he did finally turn up, but now he’d arrived in a vast Mercedes she was too awed to say anything much. ‘Well, are you coming my way?’
    She stood up, crossed the pavement, climbed into the front seat and as she settled down she looked back along the pavement towards the hotel. Hoping her friend could see her riding off in the lap of luxury, he thought. ‘You’d better do the safety-belt up. It’s obligatory and if the police catch you with it undone they fine you some fantastic sum of pesetas.’
    She clipped the belt around herself. The police out here scare me, with all their guns. D’you know, when we were coming to the hotel from the airport we saw a couple of policemen with sub-machine guns.’
    ‘You’re quite safe. They only shoot tourists in leap year.’
    She giggled. ‘I must remember not to come out then,’
    He put the gear lever to drive and drew out into the road, careless of an oncoming Seat 600 which had to brake quite sharply and noisily.
    ‘Where