She laid a still image of the transaction on the table. Alice was handing her credit card to the saleswoman. She was wearing a white blouse, white capri pants, flat-soled Hermès sandals, and a great deal of jewelry. She was, thought Gabriel, a robbery waiting to happen.
“Her husband says she withdrew two thousand euros from a nearby ATM machine.”
The detective slid a second photograph onto the tabletop. It had been snapped by the ATM’s camera. Alice, in sunglasses and her new Vuitton cap, was almost unrecognizable.
“Where did she go next?”
“The car park where she left the Mercedes. She departed—”
“At 2:56p.m.,” Gabriel interjected. “The twelve-euro fee is her last known charge.”
Inspector Aragón handed over another photograph, a rented Mercedes convertible lying capsized at the bottom of a rocky ravine. “We cannot say for certain how it ended up there. It’s an isolated stretch of road, very steep and narrow, lots of switchbacks and dangerous curves.”
“She has a rather dubious driving record.”
“She wouldn’t have been the first tourist to drive off that road. But our working theory is that she was targeted by professional thieves.”
“Any suspects?”
“The usual.”
“Translation?”
“We have a few homegrown criminal gangs on our enchanted little island, but the real pros come from elsewhere, just like the tourists. French, Albanians, Turks, even Italians.”
“What sort of Italians?”
“We had a crew from Naples last summer. They arrived on a chartered yacht and stole everything they could lay their hands on. Wristwatches, mainly. Mobile phones too. There’s a huge market for smartphones in Shanghai. They get cleaned up, repackaged, and sold as new devices. It’s a multibillion-euro industry.”
“When was the last time a thief killed someone over a phone or a wristwatch?”
“It’s rare, Señor Allon, but it happens. Especially when the victim decides to stand her ground.”
“Alice’s husband seems to think she would have handed over her valuables without hesitation.”
“Perhaps Alice’s husband doesn’t know his wife as well as he thinks he does.”
Gabriel asked whether any blood had been found in the car. Inspector Aragón replied with a shake of her head.
“That would suggest she wasn’t behind the wheel when the car plunged into that ravine.”
“The Policía cannot say that with certainty, but that is our suspicion.”
“Whatcanthe Policía say?”
“That one week after her disappearance, the whereabouts of Alice Winter remain unknown. With each passing day the odds of finding her alive are dwindling. Or dead, for that matter,” she added.
“Is there still an active search?”
“It grows less active by the day. We’ve checked every square meter of the surrounding woods. There’s no body.”
“Perhaps you should be looking for a grave instead.”
“It’s not so easy to dig a hole in the soil of Ibiza, Señor Allon. Not if one is in a hurry. It’s far more likely that they disposed of the body at sea.”
“Which would explain the sandal you found.”
“It might.”
