“That’s what I’m here for.”

“This one is trickier. Your first mission.”

“I’m all ears.”

“You need to go over to Paseo de Gracia, number six.”

Vargas looked at her, suddenly alarmed. Alicia put a finger to her lips.

“The offices of a company called Metrobarna are in that building.”

“I know it.”

“You do?”

“They own half the buildings in this area. They buy them, throw out the old people who live there, giving them practically nothing, and sell them again at ten times the price.”

“Smart, eh? Well, it turns out that the director general is someone called Ignacio Sanchís. I want you to follow him from the moment he leaves his office. Become his shadow—tell me where he goes, what he does, who he talks to . . . everything. Will you manage with the Vespa?”

“She’s the queen of the road. Even Nuvolari couldn’t escape me when I’m on the Vespa.”

“This time tomorrow, come here and tell me what you’ve found out. Any questions?”

Vargas lifted a hand.

“I’m referring to Fernandito.”

“Everything is crystal clear, Señorita Alicia.”

“Off you go, then. And welcome to the world of intrigue.”

“I won’t fail you. Nor you, Captain.” Fernandito rushed off into a promising career in the world of intrigue and detection.

Vargas stood openmouthed, staring at Alicia’s catlike eyes as she enjoyed her cigarette.

“Have you gone mad?”

She ignored his question, gazing out the window at the blanket of clouds creeping in from the sea. The setting sun had tinted it red, but a web of black ribbons was swirling about, thick and dark. An electric spark pulsated through the clouds, as if a large flare had lit up among them.

“There’s a storm coming,” Vargas murmured.

“I’m famished,” declared Alicia, turning around.

He was astounded.

“I never thought I’d hear you say that.”

“There’s a first time for everything. Will you buy me dinner?”

“I don’t know what with. I gave your admirer almost everything I had. Tomorrow I’ll have to go to the bank and withdraw some more money.”

“Tapas would do.”

“Tell me where.”

“Do you know La Barceloneta?”

“I think I’ve already had more than enough with the normal Barcelona.”

“Could you go for a good bomb?”

“Excuse me?”

“A spicy one, not one made of gunpowder.”

“Why am I guessing that this is another of your tricks?”

29

Under a lightning-meshed sky, they walked down to the port. A forest of masts fought a wind blowing in from the sea, carrying the scent of electricity.

“There’s a big one coming,” Vargas announced.

They skirted the lines of warehouses opposite the docks, large cavernous buildings that looked like grand old markets.

“My father used to work here, in the sheds,” Alicia said, pointing.

Vargas kept silent, waiting for her to say more. “I thought you were an orphan,” he said at last.

“I wasn’t born one.”

“At what age did you lose them? Your parents.”

Alicia buttoned up the collar of her coat and quickened her pace. “We’d better hurry or we’ll get wet.”