Read The Angst-Ridden Executive for Free Online

sake, Ventura?’
    ‘Ventura?’
    ‘You don’t mean you’ve forgotten your nom de guerre . . . ?!’
    Bromide set about Carvalho’s shoes, and before the detective could say a word he had them shining like new.
    ‘You go round like a rich man, you eat like a rich man, and you spend like a rich man, but your shoes look like a dustman’s sandals!’
    ‘Dustmen don’t wear sandals.’
    ‘You know what I mean.’
    ‘Listen. Pin back your ears and pay attention, because this could make you rich. A man’s been found dead, near Vich, with no underpants on and a pair of women’s knickers in his pocket.’
    ‘Did he run a sausage factory?’
    ‘What do you make of it?’
    ‘Had he been stabbed?’
    ‘No. Shot.’
    ‘Unusual. It sounds something to do with pimps, but usually they tend to use knives. Do we know who the knickers belonged to?’
    ‘Wake up! If they knew whose the knickers were, they wouldn’t need a private detective, would they! Keep your ears open, Bromide, and see if something turns up.’
    ‘What kinds of girl would you say he was involved with?’
    ‘Expensive. He was the sort of man who needed to be discreet, and he probably had two or three regular lays.’
    ‘Pepe, I’ve been in this city for the best part of forty years and I know it like the back of my hand. My kidneys might be shot to hell, but I have very good eyesight. This would be the first time I’ve ever heard of high-class pimps using guns. Beating someone up, yes—but guns. . . ? There’s something odd about it, Pepe. If you were talking about cheap whores, OK—but not when you’re talking about the classy end of the market. No, it doesn’t sound right to me.’
    ‘I want you to keep your ears open for anything you can find out.’
    ‘As soon as I finish with you, I’ll go to the gents. I’ll piss what I have to piss, then I’ll wash my ears out, and I’ll listen all you like.’
    ‘Why did you go to the doctor’s?’
    ‘To take him a Cigar, what do you bloody think?! I went because I’m ill, very ill. Understand? My kidneys are fucked, my stomach’s playing up, and look at the state of my tongue.’
    Carvalho suddenly saw a tongue appear down by his knees. It had been ravaged by all the nicotine in the world, and was covered with a white and yellow film.
    ‘Put it away—you’re making me ill!’
    ‘Here I am, telling you that I’m ill, and you don’t even care! The doctor told me I had to go on a bloody diet. Grilled meat, salads and fresh fruit!’
    ‘I ask you—me, when all I usually have is a vermouth, a tapas of this or that, and a black coffee to get me through the day. I get by on a hundred pesetas a day. If you ask me, they don’t think. They wear their brains out studying to make themselves a career, and when they’ve finished their clients can go fuck themselves, because all they’re interested in is the money. Say what you like, but that’s the way it is. Look at my brother-in-law. He was feeling a bit rough, so he went to see the doctor. The doctor told him he had cancer. “Don’t give me that. . .” says my brother-in-law. Anyway, three months later he was dead. If you ask me, the reason was just because he knew he had cancer. Thousands of people pop off just like that, because one minute you’re fit as a fiddle, and then you go to the doctor and he tells you you’ve got cancer, and the next thing you know you get a cancer from worrying. They never actually cure you of anything, Pepe—particularly not when you get to my age. All they do is tell you what you’re going to die of.’
    ‘I thought you were going to see the doctor about the bromides.’
    ‘That creep?! He’s been my doctor since. . . let me see. . . since the Social Security started, since the days when concierges used to go round dressed like Marshal Goering. I’ve told him about the bromide hundreds of times, and he just ignores me. Why do you think so many people are dying these days? It’s because of the downers