Louisa looked across the pedestrianized road at a woman on the beach who had just stood to rearrange the towel on which she was sunbathing. 'There's Myrtle. Rather silly of her to wear a mini.'

Serena said, 'Who's that with her?'

'Her cousin.'

'Just for his stay?'

'That's what she says and he does have the same tired look. He's officially at the Bay Hotel.'

'They say that's become rather downmarket.'

'Out here, what hasn't?'

Louisa regarded her empty glass. 'Just for once, shall we have another?'

'Why not?'

She signalled a waiter, who did not immediately respond. 'They're getting ever slower.'

'They're islanders.'

The waiter walked a zigzag between tables and chairs. Louisa stood as he reached them. 'I'm losing the shade. You can move my chair.' She was convinced she spoke good Castilian.

'Certainly, señora,' he answered in English. He picked up her chair and moved it under the full shade of the sun umbrella secured through the centre of the table.

Louisa sat. 'Two gins and tonics and make certain it's Gordon's and not some kind of home brew from Menorca.'

'Two Gordon's gin.' He picked up the empty glasses, placed them on his tray, returned into the bar.

'Did I tell you I met Neil the other day?' Louisa asked.

'Which one?'

'Picare. George introduced me.'

'I thought you'd met Neil before?'

'George didn't know that so he was his usual pushy self.'

'The ex-pats' shaker and mover.'

'He likes helping people.'

'And the drinks they feel bound to offer in return. Was Neil in one of his more pleasant moods?'

'Very pleased-to-meet-you mode.'

The waiter returned, placed glasses on the table, spiked the bill, hurried to answer a call from another table.

'He invited us to pre-lunch drinks,' Louisa continued.

'Was the wife around?'

'George isn't married.'

'Of course he isn't. Was Neil's wife there?'

'Back in England for a week.'

'That explains ...'

'What?'

'It's probably someone trying to be nasty.'

'So much more interesting than someone trying to be nice. Whose marriage vows is he hoping to help break this time?'

'Jane Calvert's.'

'Very unlikely. She lacks the courage to take the risk of Eustace finding out.'

'So, what did you think of the house?'

'Wonderful situation and with all that glass, it's like living in a view. But God only knows what the air-conditioning costs.'

'He won't worry about that. So, you've yet to meet the wife ...'

'Well, tell me, what's she like?' Louisa asked.

'I wouldn't want to sound snobbish ...'

'Overcome the bourgeois reluctance.'

'It's not difficult to think they're right and she did serve behind the bar before they married. By the way, did he say they're going to give a get-to-know-you party.'

'The only people who'll bother to go will be the usual crowd who cannot forego free food and drink. He did ask George where he should buy the champagne.'

'Why, when one can get cava everywhere? I suppose they'll be out to make an impression and serve Non Plus Ultra.'

'Not cava, Champagne; Krug.'

'I was forgetting that the pleasures of the common man are not for them. Have you any idea where all his money came from?'

'No, because, surprisingly, he didn't talk about it. But there were paintings of Suffolk and Clydesdale horses on a wall in the study. Maybe he had something to do with farming.'

'Farmers don't make his kind of money.'

'Then he just liked the heavy breeds.'

'He married Cecily.'

Alvarez was awakened by the telephone; it took him a moment to accept he was in the office. As he used the arms of the chair to draw himself upright, the ringing ceased. He relaxed, closed his eyes. Something ignored should be forgotten.

The phone rang again. He swore, reached out and lifted the receiver. 'Tell me.'

'Is that Inspector Alvarez?'

He was tempted to deny the fact.

'Policia Umbert here, Puerto Llueso.'

Any local policia should have known better than to ring him early in the afternoon. When he looked at his watch, he was surprised to find it was late afternoon.

'Inspector, I am reporting the death of Señor Picare who lived in Vista Bonita.'

'Normal or accidental death is the policia's concern.'

'After the doctor had examined the dead man, he said I was to suggest you came here as soon as possible.'

'Why?'

'He said nothing more to me or Rosalía.'

'Who's she?'

'The cook.'

'Who else is there?'

The señora and Marta who works in the house and the cleaner Carolina.'

'Is the señora hysterical?' Hysterical women made a man helpless.

'She's in bed.'

'Has she been given a sedative?'

'Dr Ferrer said—'

'Ferrer?'

'Yes.'

Alvarez had visited the medical centre a short time before because he had judged himself to be suffering from something. Ferrer had examined him. 'Your complaint is your lifestyle. Stop smoking, exercise a lot more, eat a lot less and restrict your drinking to half a glass of red wine and a tin of lager each day.' Why hadn't he suggested an alternative cure: suicide?

'Are you still there, inspector?' Umbert asked.

'Who found the body?'

'Rosalía. Managed to get him out of the pool, but when the doctor arrived, he pronounced the señor dead.'

'Was it a heart attack, a stroke?'

'The doctor said he drowned.'

'How?'

'In the swimming pool.'

'I'll be there as soon as I can.'

'The doctor said you should come immediately.'

'He can wait.'

He studied a plan of Urbanization Reus and located Vista Bonita on the top road which ran along the flank of Puig Grege.

He left the office, walked along to the old square and Club Llueso. Roca, the barman, moved along the bar. 'Don't often see you at this time of the day. Not able to enjoy your siesta?'

'A coñac without comment.'

'You lead a rough life.'

'Cheer me up me up by telling me more things I know.'

'When you're miserable, you like to make everyone else feel miserable.' Roca moved away. Alvarez brought out a pack of cigarettes, tapped one loose, lit it.

Roca returned with a filled glass. 'Has someone tried to blow up the government and failed to make you so cheerful?'

'A doctor.'

'And said you're fit enough to continue working?'

'I'm waiting for the verdict.'

Roca looked uneasy. 'I ... I hope I've not been speaking out of tune?'

'How could I yet know?' Alvarez drank.

'Here, you're not ...? Is the trouble serious?'

'So far, no one can tell.'

'I'm damned sorry, Enrique.'

'Forget it.'

Roca picked up Alvarez's glass, refilled it. 'At a time like this, one needs help.'

Alvarez turned off the main road and on to the side one which led to Puig Menor, at the foot of which were several houses and bungalows. Originally, there had been several requests for permission to build on the crest of the high hill, or low mountain, but these had been denied until the weight of the brown envelope matched expectation.

The road had not looked particularly steep, but it was poorly fenced and to a man who suffered from altophobia, it was dangerous; a slight mistake and the car might veer over the side, turn over and over, land with such force that...