The Grotto's Secret: A Historical Conspiracy Mystery Thriller (14 page)

50

‘
El Dio que mos guadre
. May God preserve us.’ Tío’s usually smiling face contorted.

María stared at Tío. Still dazed, she muttered, ‘Oh, no, poor Moshe and Ribka will be terrified.’ She couldn’t face the thought of her village friends being sent away and asked, ‘Why are they doing this?’

Tío’s voice dropped to a whisper, ‘They have lots of different reasons. The king’s more powerful if everyone is Catholic.’

‘But why? We have so many different religions in Granada.’

‘Yes,
querida
, but the king and queen want to increase their political authority and weaken opposition.’

A deep frown creased her brow.

‘Remember when we talked about Granada being the last bastion of Moslem rule?’

María nodded.

‘It was only a few months ago, in January, that Granada was conquered from the Moors, and the reconquest was completed. We have a few months to convert to Catholicism or we must leave Spain.’ He lifted his hat and rubbed the sweat off the top of his head. ‘They want to rule the world.’

María jumped up and poured herself some water.

‘My family have decided to fund a sea captain who is looking for sailors to help him find new worlds.’

‘Cristóbal Colón?’

Tío jolted upright in his seat, his face aghast. ‘How do you know this,
querida
?’

‘You taught me when we did our lesson on the new world. The Italians call him Cristoforo Colombo, don’t they?’

He slumped back in his chair, muttering, ‘Yes, yes, of course. This news is driving me
loco
!’ He tapped the side of his head.

María touched his hand. ‘You are not a crazy person, Tío.’

‘Bah! Now they want Colón to find a new route to India.’

‘But you told me Isabella had turned his request down because it cost too much money.’

‘
Si el emprestimo era bueno, emprestava el rey a su mujer
. If making loans were good, the king would lend his wife.’ Tío shook himself as though the thought of the king distressed him. After a moment, he scratched his head and said, ‘Yes, yes, too much money, even though the rewards will be great.’ He stretched his body as though the conversation gave him backache. ‘The treasury has estimated that the expenditure for three ships and crew will be about the same as it costs the young royals to entertain a visiting noble for one week.’

‘How do you know so much about Colón’s quest for money?’

For a moment Tío stared at her, then he dropped his voice as though someone might overhear them, ‘You can never say this aloud,
querida
.’

Holding her breath, María hung onto every word he uttered.

‘My family are related to him.’ He waited for his words to sink in and continued, ‘Not many know of his Jewish origins. He is from a Converso family.
Djidio bovo no ay.
There are no stupid Jews.’

Taking a deep breath, María asked, ‘Does the King know of this?’

‘As I said, not many know Colón is a Converso.’

‘But if they support Colón, they can take control of the world and all its people!’ María’s heart beat so loudly she hoped Tío couldn’t hear it.

‘Yes,
querida
.’

‘Will your family convert? They have been so helpful to me.’

He remained silent for a long moment.

Tío sighed deeply and dropped his voice so low she could hardly hear him, ‘We have little choice.’ Tío said in a trembling voice, ‘In their search for would-be heretics, they’re torturing confessions out of those who have converted.’

‘Are they allowed to do that?’

‘They can do whatever they want. They are even seizing the properties of convicted heretics.’

‘You are not a heretic, Tío.’

‘Bless you,
mi querida
. But in their eyes I am.’

‘What will you do?’

‘Up till now my family in the north were blessed. They had the money to buy their way out of trouble if it came their way.’ He sighed. ‘Money is the solution to many problems,
querida
. Now they are going into hiding and I will go with them.’

‘Until when?’

Beside her the fire leapt over the logs, eating at any crack in the wood. As it spat and crackled, its heat warmed her cheeks.

‘Until this persecution is finished, we will leave our homes as they are until we can return to them. But listen,
querida
…’

María squirmed in her chair. A tremor in her spine tickled the base of her neck.

‘There is more.’

51

Barker tossed a fifty quid note at the driver and stepped out of the black cab into the early morning drizzle. A wave of foul-smelling heat, pumping out the smell of petrol fumes, rose from under the vehicle.

He hated travelling in cabs. They stank, and who knew what slob had sat on the seat minutes before him. But it was the only way to travel in the congestion zone. Although he was on a stealth mission, most people came to Harley Street’s prestigious medical mecca for private consultations about everything, from depressing terminal illness to conceited cosmetic body reordering.

Earlier, he’d had Kelby’s car fitted with the same device that killed Teresina. Every time he thought of how he could get away with his plan, adrenalin surged through him, setting his whole being on fire. He couldn’t believe he hadn’t discovered this rush before. A meticulous killing strategy thrilled him more than any business plan.

Rain splattered on Mata Gordo’s Victorian arched windows. Its facade begged passers-by to peer into the windows. Barker pressed the buzzer on a highly polished, black door. He wondered if Mata Gordo purposefully added a thick veil of mystery to their entrance. They certainly kept secrets like stones kept silent.

The door buzzed and clicked open. He stepped upon the shiny wooden pine floors of Mata Gordo Pharmaceutical. The smell of the place, pristine and lemon-like, caught him high in the nostrils. Medical smells, he hated. Lemon freshness, he loved.

Apart from the receptionist’s muted phone conversation in the next room, the imposing gabled lobby was silent. Only the occasional pigeon, flapping against the high octagonal tower’s skylight, disturbed the peace. For a split second he imagined himself to be inside an elaborate doll’s house.

The click-clack of his heels on the pine floor brought the receptionist scuttling into the hallway. She extended her hand, half bowing her head, as the ultimate show of respect.

Without doubt, she would have signed agreements to keep her trap shut about the goings on in here with the high profile clientele, political and medical.

The receptionist ushered Barker into Mata Gorda’s inner sanctuary. The plush décor eased Barker’s beating heart. It hadn’t stopped tapping against his ribs since Zelda had given him the ultimate coup de grâce for destroying another she-devil.

Rizado consumed his thoughts — almost taking over his game plan. Once his research had revealed its immense potential, everything would slot into place.

He needed to find Kelby’s secret plant.

52

Within seconds of slamming her front door Kelby heard footsteps crunch on her driveway. She peeped through the keyhole and saw Hawk passing the window.

She darted outside. ‘Where’ve you been?’

Hawk smiled. ‘Morning. I’ve just finished patrolling the grounds.’

The fire in her veins immediately melted and she softened her tone, ‘I thought you’d gone.’

‘Why? I told you I’d be here all night.’

‘Your car …’ Kelby stretched her neck and saw it parked at the bottom of the garden behind the shed. She suddenly felt terribly stupid.

After she’d explained to Hawk, he said, ‘When we did the audit I did a sweep of the house for bugs, but I didn’t do an extreme sweep. This may have been there before I set things up.’

She nodded.

‘Or it could be a threat from within. I wonder if this person knows you.’

‘But who?’

This time Hawk shook his head.

Kelby made coffee to settle her nerves while Hawk made a few calls. Hawk’s colleague Roger, came over and drove Kelby to work while Hawk scoured her house and grounds to see how someone could have infiltrated the security system.

An hour and a half later Kelby swept through the glass double door of her office and spotted Zelda glued to her PC in the far corner. She hung her coat in reception along with a row of other wet, bedraggled and sad-looking garments.

She didn’t want to face another day of tedious mentee meetings. After the initial thrill of being on Devil’s Grotto, the gloss and glamour had quickly worn off leaving her with the dull ache of being in the public eye. She rued the day she had let Jon Thompson twist her arm to be on the show. At the time, it had sounded fun with lots of opportunities to meet new people. But now, with the trolling, it was too much hassle.

Kelby dumped her briefcase on her desk and delved inside to rescue her laptop. It whirred into operation, ready to power her day.

Greeting the early birds as she marched through the office, she spotted Jimmy. He waved at her and she nodded in return, knowing a hot cup of coffee would be in her hands in a few minutes. What would she do without him?

After an update on her security, she said to Jimmy, ‘Please call Stacie, I’ve been trying her mobile and her home number, but she’s not answering.’

‘What’s the message if I get hold of her?’

‘Put her through, I have to talk to her.’

‘Another bust up?’

Kelby dropped her gaze. Jimmy was too damn intuitive for his own good. ‘Get onto Stacie. ASAP!’

‘I’m on it.’ Striding to the door, Jimmy asked, ‘How’s Annie?’

‘Much better, thanks, but not out of the woods yet. The poor little thing looks so pale with those tubes stuck in her face.’

‘Did you get any sleep? Or did you spend the night working on those reports?’

Ignoring his question, she asked, ‘Have you heard any more about Teresina’s accident?’

Jimmy shook his head.

‘Get me everything you can find on it. Call Jon or the producers, they’ll know the latest.’

He saluted and disappeared.

Kelby slumped into her seat and stared at the dark thunder clouds crowding in around her window. She’d have to quit the show; she couldn’t tolerate this troll infestation.

A flurry of unfamiliar voices filtered into her office, and Kelby glanced through the internal window facing her staff.

PC Pike and Turkey-neck stood in reception staring directly at her.

53

Barker stared at the lard
arse
in a three-piece suit. Being CEO of one of Europe’s most affluent pharmaceutical companies gave Matt Gorden an inflated ego and plenty of excuses to overindulge. If he wasn’t suited up, he’d look like the Michelin Man.

Before Barker had time to say a word, the lard arse propelled him into another extravagant room and ushered him to a chair in front of a plush oak desk.

Gorden slumped into his leather seat, which squeaked as he went down. ‘Did you find it?’

‘Almost there.’ Barker tried to control his irritation. ‘What can we do in the meantime?’

‘Nothing happens without the goddamn plant.’

‘Agreed, but we need to hit the ground running as soon as we find it.’

Gorden bristled; his tone barbed, ‘Listen, Barker, you’ve been around these woods long enough to know that new medicines go through rigorous tests.’

‘Of course, but if rizado is such a life-saver, we should get the process ready for when it comes in.’

‘Not that easy.’ Gorden shook his head. ‘Let me explain.’

Barker ignored him and tried not to scowl. ‘If rizado stacks up, it will revolutionise the drug market.’

Gorden said, ‘But first we have to file a new drug application to allow rizado to be tested on humans in clinical trials. That’s the biggest hurdle.’

‘The trials will show it’s not hype. From what I can see, this stuff will benefit the industry.’

‘Uh, huh, but some would say rizado is too risky.’

Barker had the feeling Gorden wasn’t keen to bring rizado to
the market.

‘Anyway, we’ll use Inter Mezzo as our sounding board on this one.’

‘They’re a bunch of criminals in white coats.’

‘Good God, man, why do you say that?’

Barker cleared his throat. ‘MG’s annual reports show they’ve prevented at least three of your new medical innovations.’

‘That may be your view, but hundreds of medical organisations belong to the Mezzo. They check every stage of a clinical trial before deciding if a new medicine is safe.’

‘What are you saying? I get the distinct feeling rizado doesn’t excite you as much as it does me.’

Barker hated being strung along by idiots.

Idiots like Gorden.