You Have to Tell

By J. Sanclemente

“Spanning two continents and jam-packed with corruption, conspiracy, and deadly high-stakes drama . . . [an] up-to-the-minute thriller.” —Karin Slaughter
 
When an influential journalist is brutally murdered, the investigation reveals the chilling consequences of the current social media explosion—and a plan that some would go to any lengths to conceal
 
Business editor Belarmino Suárez, a.k.a. Krugman, was rumored to be on the payroll of the rich and powerful before he was found murdered in his Barcelona home with pages from his newspaper, El Universal, stuffed in his mouth. Detective Julián Ortega, who relies not on a forensic lab but on old-school methods of investigation and deduction to get results, takes charge of the case. He finds himself under pressure, not only from Spain’s largest media group, but also from a government preparing for elections. Meanwhile, intuitive and determined crime reporter Leire Castelló travels to New York and puts her life at risk to carry out her own research. Hampered by the demands of a newspaper in crisis, she joins forces with ex-lover Ortega to uncover why a renowned investigative journalist was silenced forever.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Barcelona eBooks
• Release date: Sep 18, 2012
• ISBN: 9781453264096

Book preview

Chapter 1

Barcelona, September 14, 2011

Carlos Marín felt disgusted and nauseous in the private investigator’s office. He had the sensation of sinking into a noxious swamp. He’d known the risks involved when he hired Luis Fernández to follow his wife but had still been shocked when the PI, proud to present a job well done, had shown him the photographs.

He slipped the report and the photos into his briefcase and, after paying the fee, ignored Fernández’s outstretched hand and left without saying a word. Usually priding himself on keeping everything under control and carefully planned, Carlos now felt like a complete wreck as he dragged his feet sullenly down Barcelona’s Floridablanca Street. Images of Mónica naked in the arms of a stranger spun in his mind like a never-ending carousel.

He decided he wouldn’t, however, say a word to his wife. He told himself over and over that he couldn’t let the incident affect his marriage: he had to convince himself that it was merely a meaningless affair. The best thing to do would be to talk to his wife’s lover and discuss the matter point-blank; if these were just brief encounters for him too, purely sexual, perhaps Carlos could solve the problem with money and make the man quietly disappear. Yes, it was a good way of dealing with this unpleasant business. He remembered that Fernández had told him that they’d lost track of the man, but that, even though his face appeared blurred in the photo and difficult to distinguish, the PI could still try, for another modest sum, to locate him.

We’ve done a good job, Mr. Marín, Fernández had remarked, but I must admit that you put us on the right track. You have very good intuition.

He couldn’t face a divorce; not with so much at stake. He was about to sell his company to an American corporation and Mónica was doing an excellent job handling the contact with the president of General Advertising, which would allow Carlos to raise the sale price way above his greatest expectations. In fact, that evening they were having the American businessman and his wife to dinner at their home to close the deal. He had to calm down and come to some agreement with his wife’s lover. He was used to dealing with delicate matters, but none that affected his privacy.

I’m a good negotiator, he said out loud in the middle of the street. Several passersby turned to observe him. Suddenly he was seized by doubt: What if Mónica’s relationship with the man was much more intimate than he assumed? What if she was in love with him? Then it dawned on him: Mónica’s weekend trips to Paris and London to present advertising campaigns to clients must have been made in the company of her lover. Good God, how could I have been so naive? he wondered.

He had to relax. In business school he’d been taught never to make rash decisions and that nothing is what it seems, even when there is conclusive evidence. Everything is susceptible to change; sometimes what is most obvious can be turned inside out like a sock. What matters is the strategy one adopts, and not straying from the course if the path chosen is clear. But in business school he hadn’t studied this particular problem. He would apply the case method to this matter of his.

Let’s consider the situation, he said to himself. I can’t leave behind loose ends or leave anything to improvisation or chance. He sat at a table on a cafe terrace and ordered a Glenrothes whiskey on the rocks, which he often drank in his office when important decisions had to be made. Admit it, he reflected, this is affecting you more than it should. You’re not going to say anything to Mónica—the sale would go down the drain. The first step is to destroy the photos and the conclusive evidence so that you’re not tempted to use them at some point. You’ll go home, act naturally, and help her with dinner. You’ll take her some orchids, which she loves. You’ll find her lover, pay him to disappear from her life, and that’s it. That’s the strategy and you mustn’t stray from it.

Reflecting in this way, as if being advised by a third party, made Carlos Marín feel safe; he even imagined voices other than his own. He felt as if his decisions were being backed up by imaginary counselors.

A sudden jolt sent the whiskey spilling down his shirt.

Forgive me, sir, I tripped on the chair, a man said in poor Spanish, attempting to help Carlos clean up the whiskey running down his shirt. Marín noticed that the man had a large pinkish scar that ran across a good portion of his forehead.

Leave it, it’s okay … , he grumbled.

The man left in a hurry. It was then Carlos realized that his briefcase was missing: he’d been robbed.

A cold sweat ran down his spine. His sense of composure dissipated and he lost his temper. Shit, that son of a bitch took my briefcase with the photos and the sales contract that has to be signed this evening. God damn it, you’re dead—to hell with your strategy, he told himself. Take a deep breath. He ordered another whiskey and tried to calm down. Relax; you mustn’t let a random event disrupt your planned course of action. You still have time. You’ll go back to the office and print another copy of the document. The man who robbed you is a nobody; he won’t know what to do with the photos. They have no value to him whatsoever. He’s a stranger. Let’s see, think: we must stick to the plan. Nothing has changed. You can give the photos up for lost and Fernández can always make copies …

He went by the office and printed a new copy of the document that had been stolen and stopped at the florist, where he bought the most dazzling orchid he could find. He took a taxi and headed home. In half an hour, the president of the American company and his wife would arrive; he could still give Mónica a hand with dinner.

He reached home sweaty and somewhat shaken, but tried to maintain his composure.

Hello darling, he said in a smooth voice before kissing his wife on the cheek. If you don’t mind I’m going to take a quick shower and change my shirt. I’ll be right back to give you a hand.

Oh, there’s no need, Mónica said, with a charming smile. It’s all prepared and ready. Take a shower while I fix a couple of martinis just the way you like them. The orchid is beautiful.

Half an hour later they were seated on the sofa, holding their drinks.

Let’s drink to our future from this evening onward, Mónica said raising her martini.

Cheers! they said in unison, clinking their glasses.

Oh, by the way, I almost forgot, honey, Mónica remarked, you’re hopeless, you left your briefcase behind in your last meeting; or so says the concierge, who brought it up a while ago. How kind of him, don’t you think? I left it over there, she said, pointing to the coffee table in the living room.

Carlos’s jaw dropped: the briefcase lay open with PI Fernández’s envelope containing the photos sticking out of it.

Yes … of course … I don’t know … I thought I’d left it behind at the office … in the rush … , he mumbled.

After a slight pause in which she sipped her martini, his wife added, Darling, that envelope in the briefcase …

The doorbell interrupted them; the guests had arrived. Mónica got up to open the door and Carlos had the feeling that he was no longer in control of the situation. While the voices of the newly arrived couple floated down the corridor, he tried to make use of the few seconds he had to take stock of the situation. No doubt she’d seen the envelope’s contents, but had reacted quite calmly, even with unusual kindness, which confused him. He was sure that she wasn’t going to sabotage the sale; she knew that half of the sixty million euros would be hers.

He figured that once dinner was over and they were alone again, she’d use the strategy of being the first to attack. Come on, Carlos, you know; you’ve studied a thousand cases at business school where this type of reaction is used as a tactic, he told himself in a dignified voice, bordering on arrogance, which reinforced his self-esteem. She’ll say, How could you do such a thing? Turning to a private investigator is the most despicable thing one can expect from someone you’re supposed to trust. And on top of that I’ve just finished making you a millionaire. You’re spineless … don’t you realize that it’s a setup? The famous denying the evidence strategy. Good for Mónica and her training at the London Business School. And she’ll be right; unwillingly she’ll steer this … what should we call it … insignificant incident, in the right direction. After all, reality is nothing but a lie. Doesn’t everyone build his or her own reality according to convenience? And, for both your sake and Mónica’s, it’s best to give closure to the issue. Although you’re being extremely generous because, as soon as the American signs the contract and you ask your wife for a divorce, you’ll be able to squeeze her for good chunk of change in exchange for not flaunting her affair to family members and her influential friends. This is what’s known as exploitation at the end of battle. It’s an option that you can keep open, but don’t rush … you’ve got her cornered.

He stood up and greeted his guests. The president of General Advertising, Jeff Halton, was tall and skinny, with white hair and a friendly face, and spoke flawless Spanish that he had learned in Buenos Aires, where he had worked for some time. Carlos guessed he was in his sixties, ten years older than himself. His wife, Betty, was very attractive. Quite a bit younger than her husband, her eyes were almond shaped and she reminded Carlos of an actress whose name he couldn’t recall.

They sat at the table and poured themselves a glass of Vega Sicilia Único wine, which, after letting it sit in his mouth for a couple of seconds, the American praised. The unknown actress preferred a glass of plain water. The cold appetizers were laid out on the table. Mónica had known that some tasty slices of Jabugo ham would be the perfect starters to the roasted turkey that had been cooking in the oven for several hours.

Well, Halton said. It’s a real pleasure being here with you and I trust we can return the invitation very soon in New York.

The pleasure is all ours, Carlos said. We’re delighted that you’ve accepted the invitation to dine at our place and, why not mention it, to do business with you. This company, which I started almost twenty years ago, will no doubt be in good hands and continue to expand with your acquisition. I’ve always believed that you Americans were the kings of advertising, and the synergies that will take place …

Mónica interrupted him.

Darling, are you already talking business? Our guests will want to relax; there’s plenty of time to discuss these matters. He’s beyond repair. She smiled as if amused, looking at Halton and his wife while stroking her husband’s hair. He lives for his business … I can’t change him at this stage of the game.

Don’t worry, Mónica, I’ve got the same problem, said Halton. The frantic pace we have in New York makes us get straight to the point … and we’re here to close the deal, after all. Isn’t that right, Mr. Marín?

Yes, of course, but Mónica’s right. Forgive my eagerness. There’s plenty of time to discuss the matter over coffee.

Oh, I’m afraid we won’t stay that long. My wife is exhausted. It’s been a long and difficult flight; we encountered turbulence and she was hardly able to get any rest. Right, darling?

Halton’s wife nodded, but to Carlos it seemed as if she hadn’t understood what her husband had said.

Very well, as you wish. I believe, from what Mónica’s told me, that we all agree on the terms of the contract, is that right?

Of course, Mr. Marín. Your wife has done an excellent pitch for the company. Our shareholders are delighted; they believe the price is fair.

Wonderful. I’ve brought the private purchase agreement, just as we agreed. All that’s left to do is to countersign it in front of a notary tomorrow, Carlos said, almost hastily.

Yes, I’ve already gone over the contract and it’s all correct. There’s only one small detail that has to be added, which our board of directors in New York has insisted on.

A detail? What is it? Carlos sensed that the detail would be an inconvenience. Damn loose ends always become insurmountable clauses. What the hell did the refined and well-mannered American want?

Well, Mr. Marín, you two are a model couple; what we call in the United States a power couple. You’re both essential to the feasibility and growth of the company we are about to purchase. Without you, the company is worthless, according to my shareholders. That’s why we’re going to ask you to remain with us, after the purchase, for at least three years. With adequate contractual conditions, of course …

Continue? How … ? Carlos choked on a piece of ham.

Oh, it’s very simple, you needn’t worry. A normal procedure. Tomorrow we’ll pay half of the sixty million in front of the notary, and we’ll pay the rest in three years, once you’ve fulfilled your time commitment to General Advertising Spain. That’s the agreement I came to with your wife. Isn’t that so, Mrs. Marín?

Yes, that’s correct, Mónica hastened to confirm. That’s what was agreed. Remember, darling, we discussed it?

Carlos was certain that Mónica had never mentioned anything about this. He felt betrayed, but preferred to pretend as if he were aware of what his wife had negotiated.

It implies a complex exception in our company; our regulations prevent a married couple from working for the same employer. You know how we Americans are … therefore we could only have one of you stay with our management team for the next thirty-six months. In any event, it’s something you two must decide.

You mean to say it’s her or me? But you must have a preference, right? I, as you know, am in charge of long-term strategy and Mónica deals with the clients. Nevertheless, I’m the one who closes the deals with our advertisers, and I’m informed of everything that …

Carlos chose not to finish his sentence; the more he spoke, the more he felt as though he were sinking into a mud pit that covered him up to his ears. He was ruling himself out before his wife and that was not in his interest under any circumstance. He mustn’t act too hastily.

You won’t be able to stand three more years with Mónica in the company, and living together at home even less, he thought to himself. She’s being unfaithful and she hid the terms of the transaction from you; the reality of the situation is hard to deny. You, on the other hand, have the photos, and this American, and even his wife, would be stunned if they saw them. But, are you going to show them? You’re off-balance, and now is not the time. It would be best to close the deal today and have Mónica stay with the company … after all, the president wants her, can’t you see that he favors her? Most importantly, don’t rock the boat while this lanky guy has the upper hand and is in the driver’s seat. Why would you want to get your fingers burned? Let things cool down … don’t you remember the case of false patience? If you act as though you’re happy to go along with everything, you can buy yourself more time to think.

Naturally, Halton said, as I mentioned, you are both extremely valuable to us, but it’s true that in terms of clients that your wife handles, do you say ‘handles’ … ?

Mónica nodded.

Good, well in that area it’s very important to have a smooth transition in the medium term. However, after the purchase, the strategy will be relegated to our US bureau’s discretion. This company is going to become much bigger and will require a specific kind of management. With all due respect, Mr. Marín, this is not to say that you can’t fit into it … but your wife speaks flawless English and manages the main advertising accounts magnificently. As you might have guessed, we’ve consulted with your most important clients before deciding to buy …

We’ll go with whatever you decide, love, Mónica declared, and put her hand over his on the table. Carlos interpreted this gesture as a new attempt by his wife to soften their guests, giving the appearance of a united front.

What a bitch, he thought. It’s already been decided. You’re nothing but a pawn in her hands. This time they’ve cut off all escape routes; sign tonight and then you’ll settle things with her in private. Use the kick forward technique, but aim straight for the goal, in case there’s a chance to score …

The turkey was brought in, balanced in two hands by the waiter they’d hired for the occasion. Mónica had made the gesture of cooking it herself, instead of ordering one at Semon’s as she usually did, knowing this would please the American couple. She carved it and gave each guest a generous serving. Carlos didn’t touch his food. Betty opened her mouth for the first time to delicately place a tiny piece of leg meat in it and said quietly in English that it tasted delicious.

Good, Carlos said in a thin voice, I think the decision has been made. You folks are going to pay a lot of money for our company and I think it’s only natural that in this new phase you want to rely on Mónica. I, I mean we, think we must facilitate your entry into our country and make sure you feel comfortable with the investment. Don’t you agree, honey?

Of course, darling … if that’s your opinion, I’m with you one hundred percent.

You’re a model couple, I kept telling Betty on the plane. Not only are you a power couple for business, but your successes are grounded—do you say ‘grounded?’—in the love that you profess for one another. Do you say ‘profess?’

Carlos would have flung the turkey gravy that his wife was serving into the American’s face, but instead said, Yes, we say ‘grounded’ and ‘professed.’ And it’s true that our love has brought us this far and has helped us to avoid many pitfalls …

Just then he was interrupted by the ringing of his cell phone. He began to turn it off, but the American encouraged him to take the call.

Take it, don’t worry. At this hour it could be something important.

Carlos looked at the phone’s screen: it was Luis Fernández, the PI. He got up from the table and moved a few feet away to answer without being overheard.

Yes, hello?

Mr. Marín, it’s Luis Fernández. Sorry to bother you if you’re having dinner, but it’s urgent …

Yes, I’m having dinner, but what the hell is so urgent that it can’t wait?

Let’s pray it’s a false alarm, but I must ask you: have the photos that I gave you this afternoon been lost or stolen?

Yes, the truth is that someone stole them while I was distracted at a pavement cafe; but, rest assured, they’ve turned up. They’ve been returned and are safe at home. Why do you ask?

I’m afraid, Mr. Marín, that you’ll have to double check. A stranger called me a few minutes ago claiming to have the ‘material’ … I think it could be blackmail. Are you completely sure you have the photos in your possession? Please make sure.

I can’t right now, Carlos said, lowering his voice. My wife and some guests are here. The briefcase and envelope are here, but I can’t open them without being seen … I’ll call you later, when they’re gone. Good night.

Okay, but something smells fishy. The guy who called me knew way too much … I don’t want to alarm you; do call me as soon as you can. Good night.

Carlos returned to the table, crestfallen and upset.

Is everything okay, love?

Yes, all’s well. It’s … nothing important … the mechanic, who is so diligent, has already finished fixing the car, you see … He turned to the Americans. At this time of night! And then they say we Spaniards don’t work. He wanted to know if he should bring it over now, but we agreed that I’d pick it up tomorrow.

It really is a heck of a service, Halton said. Well, if it’s all right with you we could take a look at the document and sign it. We’ve agreed to meet at the notary’s office tomorrow morning at ten, and we’ve already deposited the first half of the payment into his safe-deposit box. I’ve taken the liberty of bringing along three copies, with the same information that I e-mailed to your wife. Do you say ‘mail’ or do you also call it ‘e-mail?’ In any case, all that’s missing is to add your wife’s name on this line, since she will be the one who remains with us for the next three years, until July 2014.

Carlos’s vision clouded over. He was incapable of quietly reading the contract’s numerous pages. Fernández’s phone call had unsettled him. If the private investigator had reasons to worry, what on earth was in the envelope that he was able to see from the table, sticking out from the briefcase?

Don’t lose your cool; no doubt it’s just a misunderstanding. Look at the bitch, how she’s rushing to sign the contract. She thinks she’s going to get away with it … you’re both done for, but she’s worse off: you’ve got her with the photos. You’ll straighten out the business with the PI later. Calm down and read the contract. You can skim through it without missing the essential information. Let’s see, yes, here is the part about the sixty million euros … two payments, the second in three year’s time, blah, blah, blah, legal jargon, non-compete agreement … the same one you wrote. It slipped through. You’re good, the best … you’ve beaten the American law firm! Excellent! Sign, and tomorrow you’ll pick up the money.

They signed the contract. Halton kept a copy and handed them the remaining two. They shook hands and after taking a sip of wine, the American said, Well, if you’ll excuse us, we’ll be on our way. My poor Betty has to recover from the trip and, even though I’m used to it, I must admit that I’m exhausted and still have to go over the brief for the press conference after the signing.

Press conference? Carlos looked at Mónica.

"Yes, love, remember that we’ve arranged to speak to the journalists tomorrow, as agreed with General Advertising’s communications department … as soon as the New York office opens and signs off on the final draft, at around six in the evening our time. You have your own brief in your briefcase … you should take a look at it before going to bed. Besides, Belarmino Suárez hasn’t stopped calling all day: he wants to interview us after the press conference for the Sunday edition of El Universal. I told him that we would most likely have dinner together, you know he likes good restaurants …"

Again, Carlos was disturbed.

You need to think, he told himself. The current is dragging you along, but the important thing is that it doesn’t take you off course. The main thing is to sign and collect the money; you’ll take care of the rest. You know how to deal with these situations. You’re prepared for any surprise Mónica tries to spring on you. You’ll have plenty of time for revenge. Remember the case method: Don’t think about revenge. Success is the most elegant revenge.

They bid their guests good night and dismissed the waiter who had attended to them over dinner. When they were left alone, Carlos served himself a whiskey on the rocks and gulped it down.

While Mónica