A Question of Motive by Roderic Jeffries

us eating?’
    â€˜There is a stove in the kitchen and food to cook on it.’
    â€˜I don’t know how to cook.’
    â€˜You will have a day and a half each weekend in which to learn.’ She returned to the kitchen.
    â€˜Life wouldn’t be so bloody difficult for everyone if people kept their big mouths shut,’ Jaime said.
    Had it not been a Sunday, Alvarez would have marked it a fine day at Aquila since there was a light breeze, giving the impression of less heat than below.
    Parra opened the front door as he left the car. ‘Good morning, Inspector. I hope all is well with you?’
    â€˜An impossibility. Is the señorita in?’
    â€˜I will find out if she is at home.’
    Alvarez let his impatience surface. ‘Forget the crap. Is she or isn’t she here?’
    â€˜Perhaps you would like to come inside?’
    That Parra was imitating the subservient servant of ancient times to annoy him, he accepted; and would have gained satisfaction from having just succeeded. In future, he would dent the other’s malice by appearing to be friendly.
    â€˜You look grim,’ Mary said, by way of greeting as he entered the sitting room. ‘Is something wrong?’
    â€˜I was wishing I was not here.’
    â€˜That . . . that’s not a very nice thing to say.’
    â€˜I would have been smiling broadly if my second reason for being here was not to ask more questions.’
    â€˜That’s a relief and an irritation.’
    He sat.
    â€˜Now you’re here, I think you must redeem your promise.’
    â€˜Promise?’
    â€˜To have a Chinese meal with me.’
    â€˜I’m afraid my cousin is expecting me back to lunch,’ he said hastily.
    â€˜Would it upset her very much to ask if she minds your staying here?’
    There had been no indication of what Dolores was preparing for lunch. Sundays were often times at which she excelled herself. It was quite a while since she had cooked chuletas empapeladas, accompanied by a sauce devised by the gods. On the other hand, judging by her threats, she might be cooking something very ordinary, or even nothing.
    â€˜Forget it.’
    Her disappointment was obvious and it might be the precursor to renewed depression. And Dolores, knowing his reason for being friendly with Mary, would understand his absence and not be annoyed by it. ‘I was trying to remember whether my cousin will be home yet. Perhaps I could ring and find out?’
    â€˜There’s a phone on the table.’ She pointed to his right.
    He picked up the cordless receiver, sat, dialled.
    â€˜Yes?’ Dolores said.
    â€˜It’s Enrique.’
    â€˜I am in the middle of cooking.’
    â€˜What work’s that?’
    â€˜True! Cooking is work; cooking for men who think only of themselves is thankless work.’
    With typical female blindness, she had failed to realize he had been trying to find out what she was cooking. The direct question in the hearing of Mary would be inadvisable since she might guess the reason. He would have to gamble. ‘I wondered if you’d mind my not returning for lunch?’
    â€˜Of course I wouldn’t.’
    He was about to express his gratitude when she continued speaking.
    â€˜Why should it upset me that I have been slaving all morning in a furnace-hot kitchen in order to cook a meal which you do not want? If you have been offered dishes far superior to any I can prepare, of course you should enjoy them. What is not eaten here can be fed to the dog at the end of the road who might consider it edible.’ She rang off.
    â€˜Is it all right?’ Mary asked.
    â€˜Dolores doesn’t mind.’
    â€˜I was only having cold meat and salad, so I’ll tell Luisa there’s a change of plan and we’ll have Chinese takeaway. But first, which would you prefer – fried mice or pickled rat tails?’ She laughed. ‘If you could see your expression! You really