Part 19 (1/2)

'Probably summons up his appointments by black magic. Will Jeez help us?'

'Probably not.'

'That'll make things difficult. I could try talking nicely to him. He fancies me.'

'Does he?'

'Yeah, he told me. And I told him I don't go out with married men. Currently he's p.i.s.sed off with me, because I've been going around with Tony, who is married.'

Given time, Kathy thought, they'd probably manage to alienate the whole Spanish police force. 'Maybe we shouldn't involve Jeez.'

Linda stared out of the cab window as they came again to the Sagrada Familia, its spires rising above the incomplete structure like remnants of some lost and arcane culture.

Then she began to thumb through her notebook. 'The girl gave us two phone numbers for Lizancos. Here . . . They're both 93 numbers, which is the Barcelona region. The first one starts 93 487, which I'm pretty sure is a city number. They're usually in the 93 200s, 300s or 400s, so that's probably his spooky home. The other one starts 93 894, and I'd guess that must be outside the city. We might try that one.'

She fished her mobile phone out of her bag and pressed in the numbers. After a moment she began a rapid conversation, taking notes as she spoke. She said 'Muchas gracias,' rang off and sat back. 'It's a fitness club, called Apollo-Sitges, and it's in Sitges, which is about twenty miles down the coast. When I asked if Dr Lizancos was there she got cagey and asked who wanted to know. I said I was from his consulting rooms at Pa.s.seig de Gracia 83, and the woman became more friendly. Dr Lizancos isn't there today, she said, but they are expecting him first thing in the morning.

It sounded as if he goes there regularly.'

'A fitness club? Why there? There must be others a lot closer.'

'Maybe it has other attractions,' Linda said thoughtfully. 'They call Sitges the gay capital of Spain. Maybe Doctor Creepy has some special interest down there.'

16.

Jeez greeted them in the corridor as they made their way to the office they had been given. He seemed in a good mood.

'Ah, ladies! Did you have a good lunch? While you were having the long lunch, we were working hard, as always, and we have results!'

'Well, that's wonderful, Jeez.' Linda switched on her heat-lamp smile.

'Yes indeed. A photograph of your Martin Kraus, no less! London will be pleased, yes?'

'Ecstatic.'

'Tony will show you, Kathy. I just want to have a word with Linda.'

'Oh, sure.' The two women exchanged a look and Kathy left them to it.

Tony was seated at his desk, s.h.i.+rt-sleeved, tie pulled open, looking as if he needed a good, long sleep. 'Oh, hi, Kathy. Linda with you?'

'She'll be along in a bit.' Kathy thought she noticed the slightest hint of relief in Tony's expression, as if fatigue might be winning over pa.s.sion. 'You got something?'

'Oh yeah. Our pals have got us something at last.' He gathered up a sheaf of papers and began sorting through them, a sly look on his face, as if he wanted to h.o.a.rd the revelations he was privy to. He began with a couple of photocopied doc.u.ments.

'Seems our Martin Kraus was born in Barcelona in 1949, same year as Charles Verge.' He waved one of the sheets. 'Birth certificate. Then he died, aged two and a half.

He's buried in the Sant Roc cemetery.' He handed the second piece of paper to Kathy. 'Death certificate.'

'Right.' Kathy ran her eyes over the pages. 'When did the resurrection happen?'

'Early last year someone applied for a copy of the birth certificate, and shortly afterwards Mr Kraus applied for a pa.s.sport . . .' Tony clutched the next sheet as if he didn't want to hand it over.

'So we have his photo,' Kathy prompted.

'Exactly.' Tony beamed smugly and slowly handed it across. Kathy was aware of him watching her expression closely as her eyes focused on the picture of Sandy Clarke.

'Well, well. What do you make of that?'

Tony sat back in his chair, pressing his fingertips together as if in prayer. He seemed disappointed with Kathy's lack of reaction. 'A couple of possibilities come to mind.'

'Go on.'

'Theory one, and most likely in my opinion, it was a tax avoidance scheme, and probably all three partners were in on it. Excess profits are paid to a phantom debtor, Turnstile Quality Systems, registered offsh.o.r.e and with an imaginary proprietor.'

'Why was Clarke's photo used?'

'So that he could provide identification to open and access bank accounts on behalf of his partners. One of them had to, and Clarke was the one who authorised most contract payments.'

'Was he in Barcelona on the fourth of October when the Barclays account was opened?'

'Must have been.'

'What's the other option?'

'Theory two, the other two partners weren't aware of it.

That means it was some kind of scam that Clarke was pulling alone.'

Kathy thought about this. 'But Verge knew about Martin Kraus and the Barclays account in Barcelona, didn't he?'

'So Clarke says.'

'You're suggesting that it was Clarke, not Verge, who closed the account on the fifteenth of May, and withdrew his own money that he'd transferred from London?'

'In theory two, who else could have?'

'Then Clarke would have had to come to Barcelona on the fifteenth of May.'

'Not necessarily. The transfer of funds was instructed electronically.'

'But why would Clarke pretend to send money to Verge, if he didn't?'

'Yes, interesting question. To make it look as if Martin Kraus was really Charles Verge, presumably, who conveniently isn't around to deny it.'

'Has this been sent to Brock?' Kathy asked.