The Blind Man of Seville

‘When did Sr Jiménez make the change?’

‘Friday, 6th April.’

‘Had you already assigned a work team for the job?’

‘I did that on the Wednesday.’

‘How do you do that?’

‘I call my secretary, who informs the depot foreman, who writes it up on a whiteboard downstairs.’

Falcón asked to speak to the secretary. Bravo called her in: a small, dark nervous woman in her fifties. They asked what she’d said to the foreman.

‘I told him that there’d been a change, that Sr Jiménez didn’t want the study to be touched until Thursday morning and that a small bed should be left in the kids’ room.’

‘What did the foreman say?’

‘The foreman made a coarse remark about what the bed would be used for.’

‘What does he do with that information?’

‘He puts it up on the whiteboard in red to show that it’s a change,’ she said. ‘And he posts the comments about the study and bed in a separate column.’

‘He also types it on to their worksheets,’ said Bravo, ‘so there’s two ways they can’t forget. They’re not very gifted people in the removals business.’

The three men went down into the depot and looked at the whiteboard, which contained all the information for all jobs in April and May but with the Jiménez job still open. The foreman came out. The secretary was right, he looked the sort who kickstarted the day with a couple of brandies.

‘So everybody in this depot would know of the change to the Jiménez job?’ said Falcón.

‘Without a doubt,’ said the foreman.

‘What’s the security like here?’ asked Ramírez.

‘We don’t store anything here, so it’s minimal,’ said Bravo. ‘One man, one dog.’

‘During the day?’

Bravo shook his head.

‘No cameras either?’

‘It’s not necessary.’

‘So you can just walk in off the street through the back there from Calle Maestro Arrieta?’

‘If you wanted to.’

‘Any overalls gone missing?’ asked Ramírez.

Nothing had gone missing, nothing had been reported. The overalls were all standard issue with MUDANZAS TRIANA stencilled on the back. It wasn’t a difficult thing to copy.

‘Anybody been in here who shouldn’t?’ asked Ramírez.

‘Just people looking for work.’

‘People?’

‘Two or three guys a week come in here and I tell them the same thing. We don’t recruit people off the street.’

‘What about the last two weeks?’

‘A few more than usual trying to get some money together for Easter and the Feria.’

‘Twenty?’

‘More like ten.’

‘What did they look like?’

‘Well, fortunately they were all short and fat, otherwise I’d have a job recalling them all for you.’

‘Look, funny guy,’ said Ramírez, getting his finger out, ‘somebody came in here, picked up some information about the job you were doing in the Edificio Presidente and used it to get himself into an apartment there and torture an old man to death. So try a little harder for us.’

‘You didn’t say he was tortured to death,’ said Bravo.

‘I still don’t remember,’ said the foreman.

‘Maybe they were immigrants,’ said Ramírez.

‘Some of them might have been.’

‘Moroccans, maybe, who work for no money.’

‘We don’t employ —’ started Bravo.

‘We heard you the first time,’ said Ramírez. ‘I didn’t believe you then. So, look, if you want a quiet life with no visits from Immigration, then start thinking, start remembering who’s been in here since last Friday and if you saw anyone taking a particular interest in that whiteboard.’

‘Because,’ said Falcón, nodding at the foreman, ‘you’re the only person we’ve met who’s probably seen this killer, talked to him.’

‘And you know … that’s something the killer might start thinking, too,’ said Ramírez. ‘Buenos días.’

11 (#ulink_1c4f799d-e020-5ce1-a425-5e54f60c634a)

Saturday, 14th April 2001

‘He was right — Sr Bravo,’ said Ramírez. ‘It’s too obvious a connection but the killer could be one of his workers.’

‘But only if the second scenario, where Eloisa Gómez lets the killer into the apartment, is the correct one,’ said Falcón. ‘If he got in using the lifting gear he’d have been missing from work in the afternoon. We’re going to have to interview every worker and put more pressure on the girl.’