“They were supposed to return in time for Alice to attend the fundraiser. But around eleven o’clock on Saturday morning, the pilot of my private plane informed me that Alice and her friends had not yet arrived at the airport. To be perfectly honest, I wasn’t terribly alarmed. Alice has many admirable qualities, but punctuality isn’t one of them.”
“You rang her, I assume?”
“Yes, of course.”
“And?”
The call went straight to voicemail, so Knight phoned one of the three women who had accompanied Alice to Ibiza, a lawyer named Sophie Maxwell who practiced at the same Magic Circle firm that represented Knight’s company. Sophie informed him that she had not seen or heard from Alice since late the previous morning.
“Why didn’t she tell you earlier?”
“You’re a man of the world, Allon. Do I really need to explain why one of Alice’s oldest and closest friends might have neglected to tell me that my wife had failed to return to her rented villa on Ibiza the previous evening?”
“She suspected that Alice was with another man?”
Knight made no reply.
“Is it possible?”
“That beautiful Alice has run off with her dashing young lover? I rather doubt it.”
“Does she have one?”
“Rumors about affairs have surfaced in the less reputable press from time to time, but Alice has always denied it.”
“Do you believe her?”
“Not entirely.”
“But you’ve never pursued the matter?”
He batted away the suggestion. “I’m a busy man, Allon.”
It was not quite a denial. “What happened next?” asked Gabriel.
“I instructed Sophie Maxwell to telephone the Spanish authorities. Evidently they weren’t terribly concerned either. It won’t surprise you to learn that British tourists aren’t always on their best behavior when they visit Ibiza.”
“But your wife is no ordinary tourist.”
“I made that point when I rang the commissioner of the Policía Nacional. He assured me that he would commence an island-widesearch for Alice at once. He rang me with the results while I was having dinner with you and your wife at the fundraiser.”
“There was no sign of her?”
“Not a trace. With the exception of her rental car,” added Knight. “The police found it at the bottom of a ravine about three kilometers from the villa. I slipped out of Wickham House during your interview with Ms. Bancroft and flew to Ibiza that very night.”
He remained on the island, he continued, for the next seventy-two hours, monitoring the search for his wife. At Knight’s insistence it was conducted with discretion, with no statements to the press or requests for assistance from the public. It turned up nothing other than a single Hermès sandal, which was found lying on the beach of a small cove.
“Who confirmed the sandal was Alice’s?”
“It was Ella Burns.”
“And what does Ella do?”
“She works for HSBC.”
“And the fourth member of the party?”
“Phoebe Chadwick.”
