large, green olives. Winter poured the wine, which tasted of sun and soil.
“Do you work as an interpreter full time?”
“Just now I do. I’m actually a grammar school teacher, but ... well, I got a bit fed up last year, and this is how it turned out.”
“Do you live here?”
“In Marbella, you mean? No, if only. But then somebody who’s just been robbed probably wouldn’t see it that way.”
“Apart from that it seems to be ... a pleasant-enough town. Not all that many tourists. But it’s hardly high season.”
“It’s pretty good in the high season as well. Unlike where I live, Torremolinos.”
“Oh, Torremolinos.”
“Do you know it?”
“Everybody the world over must have heard of Torremolinos, surely? But I’ve never actually been there. Only seen it from a distance.”
“That’s the best way,” said Alicia. “That’s what everybody says, unfortunately.”
“Is it really as bad as that?”
“Worse. Maybe not the part where I live, but on the whole ... Some people call it Terrible Torrie, and that’s a good name—although most of the awfulness is their fault.”
“Yes, I hear it’s very popular with the English.”
“The tattooed and shaven members of the population, that is. They’re escorted from the airport by the Guardia Civil and taken to their hotels in armored cars.”
Winter laughed, and coughed as some wine went down the wrong way. Alicia smiled.
“And that’s only the start of their vacation,” she said.
“And you live in the middle of all that?”
‘As I said, it’s not so bad where I live, overlooking an old fishing village called La Carihuela, a couple of miles outside the town. You can walk along the beach from there to Torrie. If you dare.“
“But you work here.”
“The police station is nicer here,” she said, taking a sip of wine. “The ... clientele as well,” she added, looking at Winter and smiling again.
“My head’s more or less clean-shaven,” he said.
“But I don’t see the half-gallon glass of beer and a portion of fish and chips on the table in front of you,” Alicia said.
“What’s this?” Winter asked, indicating the two large plates the waiter had just put down on the table between them.
“Fish and chips,” said Alicia with a laugh. “But you’ll get something else in a minute or two.”
Morelius looked hard at his deep-fried prawns, but they seemed to have taken root in the foil container: he threw them in the trash bin. Everyone on television was going on and on about the millennium. Nobody had ever heard that word until a year ago.
If your work gets under your skin so much that you need to talk to a priest, you can’t be suitable for the job. You have to have a temperament that can cope with it. A surgeon at a cancer clinic can’t demand counseling after he’s been operating and perhaps speaking to a patient.
You simply barge your way through. Barge-your-way-through, Morelius thought.
“Penny for your thoughts,” said Bartram.
“Why? What do you mean?”
“You seemed so damned preoccupied.”
“I was thinking about the Gamlestaden Motorcycle Club, which’ll be having their Christmas party at Harley’s soon.”
“Hmm, that’s something worth thinking about.”
“I’ll miss it this year.”
“You know the date?”
“I checked.”
“The special call-out boys will sort that out. They’ll surround the place with five squad cars.”
Some people can cope with policing the streets, others can‘t, Morelius thought. I’m going to cope. I have so far, haven’t I? Haven’t I? I’ve been out there in the night.
“The girl who worked in the cloakroom at the Park Hotel died yesterday. Did you know that?”
“Eh? No. I knew she was in a bad way.”
“Her boyfriend seems to be about to follow her.”
“Really?”
“Do you think she took it herself?”
“The GHB, you mean? I wouldn’t like to say.”
“She wasn’t the type.”
“None of them ever is.”
“She was
“Do you work as an interpreter full time?”
“Just now I do. I’m actually a grammar school teacher, but ... well, I got a bit fed up last year, and this is how it turned out.”
“Do you live here?”
“In Marbella, you mean? No, if only. But then somebody who’s just been robbed probably wouldn’t see it that way.”
“Apart from that it seems to be ... a pleasant-enough town. Not all that many tourists. But it’s hardly high season.”
“It’s pretty good in the high season as well. Unlike where I live, Torremolinos.”
“Oh, Torremolinos.”
“Do you know it?”
“Everybody the world over must have heard of Torremolinos, surely? But I’ve never actually been there. Only seen it from a distance.”
“That’s the best way,” said Alicia. “That’s what everybody says, unfortunately.”
“Is it really as bad as that?”
“Worse. Maybe not the part where I live, but on the whole ... Some people call it Terrible Torrie, and that’s a good name—although most of the awfulness is their fault.”
“Yes, I hear it’s very popular with the English.”
“The tattooed and shaven members of the population, that is. They’re escorted from the airport by the Guardia Civil and taken to their hotels in armored cars.”
Winter laughed, and coughed as some wine went down the wrong way. Alicia smiled.
“And that’s only the start of their vacation,” she said.
“And you live in the middle of all that?”
‘As I said, it’s not so bad where I live, overlooking an old fishing village called La Carihuela, a couple of miles outside the town. You can walk along the beach from there to Torrie. If you dare.“
“But you work here.”
“The police station is nicer here,” she said, taking a sip of wine. “The ... clientele as well,” she added, looking at Winter and smiling again.
“My head’s more or less clean-shaven,” he said.
“But I don’t see the half-gallon glass of beer and a portion of fish and chips on the table in front of you,” Alicia said.
“What’s this?” Winter asked, indicating the two large plates the waiter had just put down on the table between them.
“Fish and chips,” said Alicia with a laugh. “But you’ll get something else in a minute or two.”
Morelius looked hard at his deep-fried prawns, but they seemed to have taken root in the foil container: he threw them in the trash bin. Everyone on television was going on and on about the millennium. Nobody had ever heard that word until a year ago.
If your work gets under your skin so much that you need to talk to a priest, you can’t be suitable for the job. You have to have a temperament that can cope with it. A surgeon at a cancer clinic can’t demand counseling after he’s been operating and perhaps speaking to a patient.
You simply barge your way through. Barge-your-way-through, Morelius thought.
“Penny for your thoughts,” said Bartram.
“Why? What do you mean?”
“You seemed so damned preoccupied.”
“I was thinking about the Gamlestaden Motorcycle Club, which’ll be having their Christmas party at Harley’s soon.”
“Hmm, that’s something worth thinking about.”
“I’ll miss it this year.”
“You know the date?”
“I checked.”
“The special call-out boys will sort that out. They’ll surround the place with five squad cars.”
Some people can cope with policing the streets, others can‘t, Morelius thought. I’m going to cope. I have so far, haven’t I? Haven’t I? I’ve been out there in the night.
“The girl who worked in the cloakroom at the Park Hotel died yesterday. Did you know that?”
“Eh? No. I knew she was in a bad way.”
“Her boyfriend seems to be about to follow her.”
“Really?”
“Do you think she took it herself?”
“The GHB, you mean? I wouldn’t like to say.”
“She wasn’t the type.”
“None of them ever is.”
“She was
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