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beginning to darken. On the far side was an open space in which was a wash area with a sink hewn out of rock and a single room.
    The door of the room was swung back and clipped to the wall. ‘Señor Sheard,’ he called out, before stepping through the bead curtain. Sheard, wearing only shorts, lay on the bed, reading, a noisy fan directed at his chest. ‘My name is Inspector Alvarez.’
    Sheard dropped the paperback and propped himself up on one elbow. ‘Have you heard something?’
    â€˜I’m afraid not.’
    â€˜Then he … he must be dead?’
    â€˜We still cannot be certain, which is why I need to ask you a few questions.’
    â€˜Are you the bloke who’s been talking to Kirsty and Cara?’
    â€˜I am.’
    â€˜I can’t tell you anything more than them.’
    â€˜I’m sure you’ll be able to help, even if only to confirm what they have said … May I sit?’ He removed a pile of magazines from the seat of a chair, sat. ‘I need to learn more about Señor Lewis. Does he live on the island?’
    â€˜It’s his first visit here.’
    â€˜He came from England?’
    â€˜I can’t rightly say.’
    â€˜He is not a great friend of yours?’
    â€˜I only met him a fortnight ago.’
    â€˜Tell me about that meeting.’
    â€˜There’s nothing to tell.’
    â€˜All the same, describe it.’
    â€˜Well, I was just having a drink in one of the bars and talking to a bloke I know. When he left, Neil came up, having heard me speaking English. Wanted to know if I could help him. He’d arrived on the night ferry and needed a bed. He’d asked around the hotels and aparthotels, but the only one with a free room was asking more than he could afford; he thought I might know somewhere he could kip down. I took him along to the hostal, but that was full and the one up in the village is being reformed so that wasn’t any good. We went into another bar and had a few drinks and I got to thinking he seemed a nice enough bloke so I said that if the old woman who owns this place didn’t object, he could doss down with me. She charged, of course. They’d screw the last penny out of their own sick grandmothers…’ He stopped abruptly, realizing his words had become offensive.
    Alvarez ignored the comment, certain Sheard was of too limited an intelligence to appreciate that if one had known a time when poverty was no more than a few céntimos away, one grabbed every possible peseta to make as certain as possible that such a time did not return. ‘What caused the row between you?’
    â€˜Row? What row?’
    â€˜Señor Lewis left here and moved into the Hotel Vista Bella.’
    â€˜That wasn’t because of any row. It was just that things were so cramped here and…’
    â€˜Yes?’
    â€˜It gave a better impression.’
    â€˜To whom?’
    â€˜The birds.’ He looked quickly at Alvarez and saw he had not been understood. ‘It helps to make friends with the women if it looks like you’re flash.’
    Scheming liar, Alvarez thought, conveniently forgetting the days of his youth when he’d changed into a newly ironed shirt and carefully pressed trousers before joining the paseo in the village square. ‘If this is Señor Lewis’s first trip to the island, does he have friends who live or who are staying here whom he visited?’
    â€˜He doesn’t know anyone.’
    He noted the vehemence with which Sheard had answered the question. People who lacked self-confidence often tried to mask a lie by sudden forcefulness. ‘I expect you can tell me which local bank he’s been using?’
    â€˜Not used one.’
    â€˜Are you sure? If he hasn’t drawn a large sum of money through a bank and has no friends who have provided him with funds, how is it that when he first arrived he could not afford to stay at a good hotel,