Free Off Side by Manuel Vázquez Montalbán Page B

Diocletian, and its subsequent growth has maintained that original logic. It’s as if the town is growing out of the temple itself. Extraordinary, it is. Here, take this.’
    He casually handed Carvalho a piece of paper containing the latest anonymous letter, which was equally menacing and parallelistic as the one before: ‘Centre forwards have heads of stone, and bodies of pink coral, and that is why they shatter when they hurl themselves against cliffs.
    ‘And you grow in their shadow, you invalids who will never pose for an epic portrait, and in the destruction of the centre forward you will be reborn, because on his corpse will grow your status as biological remains.
    ‘All these are the reasons why you deserve that the centre forward should be killed, and at dusk. And if you ask me why the centre forward must be killed at dusk, I will tell you that it must be before night comes, and before I am left, alone, in the house of the dead whom only I remember.’
    ‘I’m not so keen on this one.’
    ‘It’s got a quote in it, from a poem by Espriu. Basté de Linyola spotted it. Look at the last sentence, and compare it with this bit.’
    Camps handed him another piece of paper, with two handwritten verses which he had presumably copied himself.
    Maybe tomorrow
    more slow hours will arrive,
    of clarity for the eyes
    of this greedy gaze
    But now it is night
    and I am left alone
    in the house of the dead
    whom only I remember.
    ‘How’s your Catalan?’
    ‘Fairly good.’
    ‘Our killer obviously has taste. Would you like to meet Dorothy?’
    ‘No. But I would like to have a quiet talk with you. I’d like to invite you to my house for supper. I live in Vallvidrera. I’ll be inviting a friend of mine too, a commercial agent. He collects autographs of PR men from famous football teams. I’ll be doing the cooking, so you’ll have the chance of being surprised at my practical abilities, since you were obviously impressed with my theoretical abilities the other day.’
    ‘I feel honoured by the invitation.’
    He meant it.
    ‘You can bring a friend, if you like.’
    ‘I don’t usually take friends to this kind of revelationary encounter. Sometimes it’s better to go without. And why is your agent friend coming?’
    ‘He’s a good talker, good at breaking the ice, and he doesn’t have my inquisitorial tendencies. I seem to spend my whole life questioning people.’
    ‘So I noticed. By the way, I have to report another appointment, which we might not find so agreeable. Inspector Contreras wants to have words with us. Both of us.’
    ‘Contreras, eh?’
    ‘Do you know him?’
    ‘From years back. He’s one of my favourite enemies. Better the devil you know than the devil you don’t. He’s become more sophisticated over the years. He started life like a cop out of some low-budget Spanish film from the 1950s. Then he turned into a policeman from the American film noir. Recently he’s had more substance to him. I don’t know what his role model is this time, because I haven’t been to the pictures for years, but he’s not thesame Contreras that I once knew. When’s he expecting us?’
    ‘Whenever suits us.’
    ‘We could go right away.’
    They each arrived separately, in their own cars. Carvalho in a Renault on which he was still paying the HP instalments, and Camps in an Alfetta. But they contrived to enter the via Layetana police headquarters together. Contreras raised an amicable eyebrow for Camps, and a disapproving one for Carvalho.
    ‘Parasites like our friend here will continue to exist for as long as they find gentlemen like yourself willing to foot the bill. This is the first time I see you when you’re not in trouble with the law, Carvalho. Lucky for you, nobody’s been killed yet. A private detective is allowed to investigate a threat. But just you remember, the moment there’s a drop of blood, if I see you snooping about, I’ll have you. Why don’t you retire?’
    ‘I’m a terrible