An Enigmatic Disappearance by Roderic Jeffries Page B

congratulation for having finally shown a spark of constructive thought?’
    â€˜Unfortunately, Señor Ogden couldn’t remember the registration number and he said there were no papers in the house that would give it. So I asked Traffic to trace the number, using his name and address. It seems this took a long time because their computer is geared to do things the other way round and they’re complaining about that and threatening to send us an invoice. But as you’ve just pointed out, however long the search took, the cost cannot be considered because every fact has to be followed up.’
    â€˜How much are they threatening to charge?’
    â€˜They haven’t said.’
    â€˜Did you first repeatedly try to make Señor Ogden remember the number, at times using the proven method of introducing the question suddenly and even violently to jog his memory? Did you order him to search every possible space in his house?’
    â€˜I didn’t like to trouble him too hard at such an anxious time for him…’
    â€˜Since when have you considered it right to consider someone’s feelings at the department’s expense? If Traffic do forward an invoice, I shall personally hold you responsible for meeting it on the grounds of your inability to do your job efficiently.’ Salas cut the connection.
    Alvarez sighed. He rang central control in Palma and asked them to issue a find-and-report on the missing BMW.
    *   *   *
    He stepped out of his car and stared at the countryside. Generally, it was poor land; thickly strewn with stones, in many places there were outcrops of rock that made an orderly cultivation impossible; there was very limited underground water so there could be only reduced irrigation; there were small areas where oranges grew, but mostly only fig trees flourished. Yet he coveted this land as much as any other. For a peasant, it was land, of whatever standard, which gave him cause for living and enabled him to endure the harshness of life …
    There was a shout. ‘Have you news?’
    He turned to see Ogden hurrying from the house. ‘I’m afraid not, señor.’
    â€˜Why can’t you find her?’
    â€˜If she is still on the island, we will.’
    â€˜What d’you mean, if she’s still on the island? Of course she is. Why d’you say that?’
    â€˜Perhaps it would be best if we go inside to talk?’ Acting more as host than guest, Alvarez led the way into the cool sitting-room. Once they were both seated, he said: ‘Did your wife suffer any symptoms of food poisoning?’
    â€˜What’s that?’
    He repeated the question.
    â€˜Sabrina’s missing and all you can do is ask if she was ill! God Almighty, I knew you lot were all…’
    â€˜Señor, it could be important. I assure you that no detail is too small to be overlooked. Was your wife taken ill?’
    â€˜No,’ Ogden said angrily.
    â€˜Did you have a meal at a restaurant on the day you were taken ill?’
    â€˜No.’
    â€˜You ate at home?’
    â€˜If we didn’t go out, we stayed at home, didn’t we?’
    â€˜Did your wife cook something different for herself?’
    â€˜No.’
    â€˜Then you both ate the same food. So why do you imagine that you suffered serious food poisoning, but the señora did not?’ Watching Ogden, Alvarez saw confusion and then panic. Sweet Mary, he thought, the sun had begun to set in the east! Salas was right and the bout of food poisoning was in some way significant.
    â€˜I … I had more meat than she did,’ Ogden mumbled.
    â€˜So it was the meat which poisoned you?’
    â€˜Yes.’
    â€˜Since you were so ill, the meat must have been badly infected. In which case, it seems surprising that your wife did not suffer at least mildly. Can you say why this was?’
    â€˜I’m not a doctor.’
    â€˜Of course not. But whoever