The beatrice stubbs boxs.., p.53
The Beatrice Stubbs Boxset Two, page 53
“Well said,” Beatrice agreed. “I’m so pleased that horrible incident didn’t put you off the police force. You’re an asset we could ill afford to lose.”
Cher smiled. “I had no choice. No way would my boss let me give up. She pushed me all the way up that hill. Amazing woman. You know what, Beatrice? When I first saw you at dinner last night, you reminded me of her.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Beatrice replied, smiling.
“Cher,” said Roman. “Can I ask a question?”
“Sure.”
“From what I know about spinal injury, especially if only partial damage is done, patients still have a certain amount of feeling in the affected area. So they can control bladder and bowel movement, enjoy a good sex life and live independently of carers. Tell me if I’m getting too personal.”
Cher and Xavier blushed, and Beatrice’s own ears got a little warm.
Cher took a deep breath. “Pretty close to the bone there, Roman, but hey, we’re amongst friends. Truth is, it depends on the person. I can only speak from my own experience. I live alone and since my apartment’s been adapted, I manage just fine. I can go to restaurants and fly and stay in hotels and use the bathroom same as anyone else. As for my sex drive, same as it ever was.”
Roman locked eyes with her. “Thank you for being so honest.”
“You’re welcome.”
Sex, violence and bowel movements all before the aperitifs? Beatrice was casting around for a light-hearted remark to break the tension when thankfully, the waiter arrived. Xavier examined the bottle he was shown and gave his approval. The waiter pulled the cork and started pouring sparkling wine into their glasses.
Xavier glanced around the table. “I hope you don’t mind, but I ordered a bottle of Espumante. I thought we should raise a glass to say goodbye to Samuel Silva.”
“Oh what a lovely idea,” said Beatrice. “And let’s spare a thought for his wife and their new little girl.”
Cher’s face paled. “They had a new baby?”
Beatrice bit her lip and nodded. “Just finished the adoption process. He showed me the pictures. A two-year-old called Marcia.”
Cher pressed the bridge of her nose and closed her eyes.
Xavier went to stand, changed his mind and lifted his glass instead. “To Samuel Silva, an extraordinary man, police officer, husband and father. None of us who ever met you, no matter how briefly, will ever forget you. To Samuel, may you rest in peace.”
Beatrice, Cher and Roman tilted their glasses to his and repeated, “To Samuel, may you rest in peace.” They all sipped and stayed silent in thought for a moment, the waiter sensitively keeping his distance.
Somehow, Xavier had become the natural leader of the foursome. He suggested they choose the set menu and get down to business. Everyone fell in with his plan and the waiter was despatched for four orders of Arroz de Marisco and a bottle of Dão.
Beatrice offered around the bread rolls, helped herself and started buttering.
Xavier began. “I can’t speak for anyone else, but Samuel Silva’s death has affected me deeply. Not just the shock of such a sudden and brutal death, but the situation, the environment and the circumstances. To me, this whole situation feels very bizarre.”
“That’s pretty much what I thought,” said Beatrice. She relayed the thoughts that had occurred to her whilst concealed behind the flower display. No body, the artifice of the crime, a country house full of butlers. Shaking her head, she laughed with more disbelief than humour. “If I didn’t think this was ludicrous, I’d honestly suspect hidden cameras. I feel as if we’re in a reality TV show and Gilchrist is our puppet-master.”
Cher was nodding energetically. “Yup, there was something weird about his reaction. Where was the shock? Where was the grief? Goddamit, I only met Samuel yesterday and I’m hurting. You know what I think about Gilchrist’s speech? It was rehearsed. I don’t know if it comes across that way because he’s so media-savvy, but his reactions were not natural. And as you say, Beatrice, no one saw a body.”
“I did,” said Roman.
Everyone stared at him, awaiting an explanation.
“He was on the first floor, same as me. When I tried to go back to my room this afternoon, the corridor was taped off. I was explaining to the uniform that I only wanted to drop off my computer when a gurney came past with the body bag.”
Beatrice hesitated. “Seems a stupid question, I know, but could you be sure it was Silva?”
Roman shook his head. “No. Those Portuguese cops are way too efficient. They didn’t leave a hand hanging out with a distinctive signet ring on a finger, and they didn’t drop his ID card as they passed. All I can say is it was a body of similar height to Silva, coming from the direction of his room, where he was reported as shot.” He shrugged, but offered a crooked smile to temper his sarcasm.
The waiter brought the wine and a bottle of sparkling water. As Xavier thanked him and received a gracious smile in return, an idea occurred to Beatrice.
“Xavier, you didn’t answer my question. How come you speak such good Portuguese?”
He looked up from tipping oil and vinegar onto his side plate. “My wife Yasmin comes from Florianópolis in Brazil.” He tore off a piece of bread and dipped it in the oil-vinegar mixture. “She taught me how to mix caipirinhas and make feijoada but I still can’t dance the samba. Portuguese is not so different from Italian so I picked it up quickly.”
“You speak Italian too?” asked Roman.
Xavier shrugged, apparently modest about his linguistic abilities. “I’m Swiss. We have three languages.”
Cher narrowed her eyes at Beatrice. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”
“If you mean that the four of us should work this case as a private investigation without bothering the local police, using Xavier’s language skills to find out as much as we can, then I’d say yes.”
Cher looked at Roman. “What do you say?”
“I can’t offer any relevant language skills, but I think four detectives at our level could combine a lot of intelligence, ability and a very healthy disregard for protocol. Yes, I want to be a part of this, if you’ll have me.”
“So that’s settled then. Now we just need a game plan,” said Beatrice.
Xavier pulled a notebook from his jacket. “I already wrote down a few ideas, just in case.”
“You planned this all along, you dog!” exclaimed Cher, with a broad smile.
“As I always say,” said Xavier, with mock dignity, “be prepared for the worst, but hope for the best.”
“I’ll drink to that,” said Beatrice, triggering another hasty toast before they had to clear space on the table for a huge gleaming tureen borne by two waiters. The smell of saffron, spice and fish enveloped them and Beatrice saw the appetite for food and investigation dancing in everyone’s eyes. With the help of this unconventional team, she would find out exactly who was behind the death of Samuel Silva and see justice served.
For Marcia’s sake.
Chapter 10
When it came to cars, Adrian seemed to be missing the point once again. The debate over breakfast was all about who should travel in which vehicle.
Will phrased his claim as an offer. “How about I drive the Panda for our trip to Braga and take Leon and Marianne as passengers?”
“If it’s OK with you, I’m happiest behind the wheel,” said Leon. “Maybe I could drive Marianne and Matthew in the Peugeot while you take Tanya and Luke in the back seat.”
“Wait a minute.” Tanya frowned. “Why is it only blokes have access to car keys? I’ve driven the Peugeot so far and don’t see why I should be relegated to passenger status just by the arrival of another man.”
“I want to go with Will!” said Luke.
Matthew stirred his coffee. “Personally, travelling in the back seat is not a pleasant experience for me. I get queasy and there’s never enough leg room. I don’t mind who drives but I would put in a request for the front passenger seat.”
Everyone had strong views on the subject apart from Adrian. So long as they went somewhere nice and considered cars as nothing more than a means of getting there, he was happy.
Bored of the discussion, he took his coffee onto the terrace. The sun was beating down already, heating the tiles and warming Adrian’s skin. Far below, boats puttered across the lake and a riot of birdsong populated the shrubs. He drank his latte in peace and inhaled the herby scents of nature. He wished Beatrice was here.
Eventually they struck a compromise. Leon would drive the Peugeot to Braga, Will would drive it back. Tanya would chauffeur her father and son in the Fiat. In the spirit of cooperation, they cleared the breakfast detritus and got into their respective vehicles.
In the back seat of the Peugeot, Adrian rested his hand on Will’s thigh and gave him a ‘you OK?’ look. Will smiled and leaned over for a brief reassuring kiss.
“No snogging in the back seat!” said Marianne, laughing at them through oversized sunglasses.
Leon opened the window. “Tanya, you follow me. Shouldn’t be difficult to find, but we’ve got a satnav.”
Tanya’s mouth opened to respond, but Luke was cavorting around, pulling faces and distracting her attention.
Adrian spent the entire drive oohing and aahing at the views. Thankfully, for fear of losing Tanya, Leon had slowed to a pace more suited to holiday driving, so they could enjoy the constantly surprising landscapes of the national park. Will read out historical facts from the guidebook and details of the protected species in the park.
“I’d love to see one of those Minho horses. But if they’re that rare, it’s probably unlikely,” said Adrian, while trying to capture the scenery on his phone.
“I expect they’re much like Dartmoor ponies. You only ever see them at a distance,” Leon answered.
The tourist board had helpful signs warning motorists of upcoming photo opportunities, and Adrian persuaded Leon to stop at every one. He and Marianne were the first out of the car, but for different subjects. Adrian wanted sweeping views, details on lichen on rock or a sunbathing lizard. Marianne wanted pictures of herself and Leon in all variety of affectionate poses. When Will was unavailable, she took selfies. Leon didn’t seem to mind.
“Here, let me take one of you two,” he offered, as Adrian snapped a shot of Will against an oak tree.
They posed for the camera and Marianne came to look at the result. “Aww, you two. You’re so photogenic, it’s sickening.”
The sound of a chirpy horn tooting made them look round. The Panda whizzed past, hands waving from within. “Eat my dust, suckers!” yelled Tanya, as the car sped up into the bend.
“She’s such a tomboy,” said Marianne.
Leon returned Will’s phone. “I hope she doesn’t get lost. She’s supposed to follow me.”
“Don’t worry about Tanya. She’s a terrific driver,” said Will. “Right, let’s get on or we’ll be the ones left behind.”
“Oh my God! Is that a salamander?” Adrian gasped. “One sec, I have to get a shot of this.”
Will rolled his eyes, but Leon merely grinned, leaning against the car. “Take your time, Adrian. We’re on holiday.”
Braga had the most divine architecture. Literally. Austere yet ornate, the whitewashed buildings and towering edifices were designed to invoke a higher presence. Stone crucifixes, arches, turrets and clocks threaded a motif of religious piety through the streets. They wandered past so many churches in sparsely populated squares that Adrian wondered where all the worshippers came from.
As always with a group of disparate people with differing interests, it was a stop-start progression around fountains, cafés and beautifully decorated buildings. The souvenir shops appealed to everyone, and even Matthew found something local for Beatrice. The heat intensified towards mid-afternoon and Adrian understood why so few locals were on the street. Everyone must be enjoying a siesta after lunch.
“I’m hungry,” said Luke.
Matthew glanced at his watch. “Good heavens, it’s half past two. Yes indeed, we should set about finding a place to eat.”
“Is it that late already? We’ve probably left it a bit too long,” said Will. “My guess is most places have finished serving lunch by now. We might find a chain or something still open.”
Leon agreed. “If we’d got here by twelve, we might have had a chance. But we didn’t bargain for so many photo opportunities!” He nudged Adrian with a wink and a smile. “Sorry to put a dampener on things, but we’ll be lucky to find a local restaurant still open and prepared to seat such a large party.”
“Don’t they have a McDonald’s?” Luke asked.
“I never eat junk food. Sorry. We can do better than that.” Leon gestured to a nearby café with empty tables and drawn curtains. “Sit down in the shade for a moment and I’ll have a scout around.” He strode off up the nearest alley.
Assuming the restaurant was closed, Adrian was surprised to see a weary-looking waiter emerge from the front door once they had rearranged tables to suit their party of six and a half.
“Food finish. Drinks only. Coffee? Beer? Water?”
Marianne counted heads. “Six bottles of water and a Coca Cola, please.”
“With gas?”
Marianne’s forehead creased. “With what?”
“He’s asking if you want still or sparkling water,” said Will. He spoke to the waiter. “Four waters, two with gas, two no. E duas cervejas, por favor. Obrigado.”
“Where did you pick up the lingo?” asked Adrian.
“It’s just a few phrases from the guidebook. How are you feeling, Matthew?”
“I’ll perk up as soon as I get some food inside me. Luke and I are very similar in that way. Feed us regularly and we are docile as lambs.” He brushed the hair from Luke’s forehead, which flopped right back into his eyes.
When the drinks arrived, Adrian appreciated Will’s choice of beer over water but regarded the bowl of small yellow pods which accompanied them with some suspicion. Will asked the waiter what they were but couldn’t really understand the reply. The man demonstrated by picking one up, squeezing to release it from its skin and popping it in his mouth. He smacked his lips and winked at Luke, who naturally wanted to try one as soon as the waiter had returned inside. Tanya gave her permission.
“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” asked Marianne. “You don’t know where they’ve been.”
“I’ll volunteer as taster,” said Will, copying the waiter’s movements and chewing cautiously. “They’re nice. Salty, like soybeans. Probably make you want to drink more.”
Luke and Matthew followed his lead and soon everyone was snacking on the odd little pods, leaving the carapace of skins around the bowl. The restaurant door opened and a short, white-haired man in a light blue suit approached the table, bearing another two bowls. His face was lined and brown, and his blue eyes sparkled under wild eyebrows.
“Good afternoon, my friends. I see you like our tremoços. Here, I bring you another bowl and some potato chips. Are you hungry? Would you like some proper snacks?”
Will spoke. “You are open for food? We thought it was drinks only.”
“We are open. Restaurant service finish at two but we can make toasted sandwiches, salads, fishcakes, French fries or our special, the francesinha.”
Marianne began to refuse. “Thank you, but we have plans to...”
“What’s a francesinha?” Tanya asked.
The old man made a face of exaggerated disbelief. “You never tried a francesinha? What are you, vegetarian?”
“No, I just don’t get out much.” Tanya cast a meaningful glance at Marianne, who made a show of looking up the street for Leon rather than meeting her sister’s eyes.
Their host was in his element. “Imagine the king of sandwiches. A slice of bread. Piled on top you have pork, chorizo, bacon, steak and another slice of bread. Cover the whole thing with spiced cheese sauce and a fried egg. If this is your first, young lady, I will make it myself. It is an experience you will never forget.”
“Oh God,” moaned Adrian. “Carbohydrate City here I come. I want one so badly it hurts.”
“Me too!” Matthew and Luke spoke simultaneously.
They ordered six full francesinhas, with three bowls of chips on the side and a salad for Marianne. She sent Leon a message to announce they had found sustenance. Adrian and Will pored over the guidebook and suggested a visit to Bom Jesus, a religious pilgrimage site after lunch. Matthew and Tanya agreed, despite neither having any religious proclivities.
After a few minutes, Leon arrived, hot and irritable. He muttered something about unhelpful locals and a lack of flexibility. “You’d think they’d realise how much the tourist trade is worth in a backwater like this.”
Matthew tried to cheer him up. “It was awfully good of you to go in search of something for us. We didn’t even think this joint was open. The owner is friendly, you know, and has offered us his house special. Seemed a bit off to refuse. Would you like one of these?” He offered the bowl of tremoços.
“Thanks, I won’t. Just some still water, cold if possible. I think once we’ve eaten, I’d like to head back to the villa. Catch a nap and perhaps...”
“Your lunch, ladies and gentlemen!” The little man in the powder blue suit carried three plates and the waiter followed with more. “Hello, Mister!” he said to Leon. “One of these is for you. Enjoy, a Portuguese speciality!”
Leon stared at the yellow lump in front of him and Adrian burst out laughing.
“It’s a sandwich, Leon, not an alien life form.”
“Try a bite, you might like it,” said Will.
Leon did cut off a corner of the impressive slab, but made a show of forcing it down and shook his head. “Not for me, I’m afraid. I prefer something light at lunch. Could I get a green salad?”
The owner shrugged his shoulders and turned down the corners of his mouth in a ‘what can you do?’ pout and returned to the kitchen while the rest of the party moaned and groaned in delight.
