A Not So Perfect Crime by Teresa Solana

Author:Teresa Solana
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Bitter Lemon Press
Published: 2011-02-28T05:00:00+00:00

12

That unexpected revelation knocked us all sideways. Borja and I looked at each other nonplussed while the ambulance men carried a woman downstairs who was either high or insulted and claimed she was our client’s sister-in-law. From what you could deduce from her surname, she was the stepsister of the woman who’d allegedly been murdered the day before. While we recovered from our shocked surprise, one of the policemen, harassed by the neighbours who assumed we were thieves, tried unsuccessfully to phone the MP. His lines were regrettably all engaged and I could see myself spending the night in the police station, or worse still, in a prison cell.

“Would it be a good idea if we drove over to Mr Font’s house in the patrol car?” one of the policemen asked graciously. “If he corroborates what you’ve said, that will be the end of the matter. If we have to go to the station, you could be there for hours. And you’ve got a small child with you ...”

The fact we were well dressed and cradling Arnau played in our favour. I noted that, unlike the neighbours, the police seemed to believe the story Borja had spun. Nonetheless, the woman in the purple housecoat was relentless and demanded we should be taken to the police station. The police ignored her.

“I would really appreciate that,” said Borja. “I suppose that after last night’s misfortune, the MP’s phone hasn’t stopped ringing. Condolences and the like. Not to mention journalists ...”

“Yes, they must be happy. The crime pages have got copy for several weeks ... And we’ve got a real headache!” That extremely polite policeman with a slight squint didn’t seem to be a big fan of the press.

“Perhaps we should have left the kid at home,” I conceded. “He’s knackered ...”

I’d been ringing Montse so she didn’t panic when she got home and found the house empty, but her phone didn’t respond. She and her sister must have been conversing animatedly in the company of a bottle of wine, and I expected she’d forgotten to switch her mobile on when they left the cinema. I knew that if Montse came home very late and didn’t find us in, she’d be alarmed, would assume something had happened to Arnau and would start ringing round hospitals and making one hell of a fuss. I made one last attempt, and this time Montse answered. She’d just arrived and seemed on the merry side.

“Don’t worry. We went for a drive with Borja and Arnau and it’s suddenly very late (...) No, nothing’s up. (...) Really, I’m telling you (...) Arnau’s fine. We’re on our way.”

I looked at my watch and saw it was a quarter past eleven. I put Arnau’s coat on, he wasn’t crying anymore but rubbing his eyes, and went to the lift with the policemen.

“Heavens! We almost forgot the papers we’d come for in the first place! And the present for the twins!” Borja exclaimed with all the sang-froid in the world as we were about to enter the lift.

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