A Body in Barcelona by Jason Webster

Author:Jason Webster [Webster, Jason]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781473512368
Publisher: Random House
Published: 2015-08-06T04:00:00+00:00

TWENTY-SEVEN

THE ALQUERíA DEL Duc lay two kilometres to the north of the village of Carpesa. After a series of calls to the Horta group established that Segarra was not at work and not away on business, Cámara and Torres decided to go to the man’s home and try their luck there.

The house was reached down a narrow, winding road through the orange groves. With their windows down, the two detectives could hear the tranquil sound of water trickling through the web of irrigation channels. A hoopoe sped out of the trees in front of them in a flash of orange, black and white.

The road came to an end in front of a large, black, solid metal gate. At the side was an intercom system. Torres leaned out and pressed the button. After a few seconds a female voice answered.

‘Who is it?’

‘Police. From the Special Crimes Unit,’ said Torres. ‘We want to speak with Señor Segarra. Is he in?’

There was a crackling pause.

‘Un momento,’ said the voice.

They waited in the car. Five minutes went by. It was hot, and they both started to fidget. Torres had banned smoking in his car, despite being a smoker himself. Cámara was reaching for the door handle to get out and light up a Ducados when the gate buzzed loudly, as though a powerful electric current were passing through it, and started to open very slowly. Once they could get past, they drove through a shaded tunnel of mature pine trees. A few metres ahead, painted bright, clean white, was the alquería. Beyond it, on one side, lay an open field where two white horses stood motionless in the sunshine; on the other side well-groomed gardens curled around towards the back of the building.

The car pulled up in front of large wooden double doors which shone in the light from the mirror-like varnish on the surface. No other vehicles were visible; presumably they were kept in the large garage a few metres further on.

No one was there to greet them. Cámara and Torres got out of the car and stepped up to the door. Cámara lifted the hand-of-Fatima knocker and rapped it down hard twice. A moment later a young woman in her twenties came and opened the door. She stared at them without saying a word.

‘Is Señor Segarra in?’ asked Cámara. ‘We’re on important police business and we want to talk to him.’

‘Police,’ she said flatly. ‘That probably explains it. Elisabeth – the maid. She’s under strict orders not to let strangers in. I suppose you’ve got some ID?’

Cámara smiled at the tone of disdain. I may be young, it said, but I am worldly and wealthy and will not be pushed around. Curiously, experience had taught him that people like her were often the easiest to break.

After seeing their cards, she took a step back and let them enter the artificial cool of the house.

‘I’m Julia Segarra,’ she said.

They followed her through the large entrance hall towards the back of the house. The

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