Page 38 of His Worst Crime

“I know, but I was—“

“Don’t worry. It was my fault. You were right. This is best.”

“Have you seen—?”

“David? No, don’t worry. That’s over. He’s gone.”

“I’m sorry, Ramon.”

“Don’t be. For the best. I should get Estel.”

And he pushed past her, surprised to find that his eyes were stinging and his vision getting a bit blurry.

“Hey, if you want to talk…” she called after him.

“Yeah, we’ll get together,” he called back, as he turned the corner toward Estel’s box. He felt like an asshole. Carme didn’t deserve to be treated like that, but right now he couldn’t deal with it, or talk about it… to anyone. And he was damned if he was going to burst into tears in front of the police float driver.

He put a halter on Estel, one of Carme’s but he’d switch it for a police issue one once he had him in the float. And he needed to get his saddle and bridle from the tack room, where they’d—not their first kiss but their second. Had it been Ramon’s saddle David was sitting on? Stop thinking about that stuff. He began leading Estel out to the float. Carme was standing in the car park, talking to the float driver, who had the back ramp down, ready for Estel. She said nothing to him, but helped him and the driver float up Estel, who could be difficult about this maneuver. Horses had been known to jump off the side and break a leg. So with Carme standing to one side and the driver on the other, Ramon led Estel up and into the float in one rapid movement.

Once Estel was settled, and Ramon had swapped over the halters, he went to return the halter to the tack room and get his gear. Carme walked with him.

“So, it didn’t work out with the guy?”

“It was never anything. He was just passing through.”

He kept his head down and his face turned slightly away, not ready to meet Carme’s eyes.

“I’m sorry, Ramon. He was a nice guy, and great with the horses. You guys would have—“

“Yeah, can we not? He’s gone. It’s done. End of story.”

“OK, I’m still sorry. Let me know if you want to talk.”

He nodded his head, but said nothing as he grabbed his police saddle and bridle, along with the saddle blanket. It felt like years since that morning he’d got Estel ready in the police yard with Jaume. What had it been, a couple of weeks? Before lugging his tack back to the horse float, he turned to Carme, though he kept his eyes down.

“Thanks, Carme, you’ve been a good friend through all of this, Estel’s injury, and… and even when I maybe wasn’t… totally appropriate with… with him… I just… look, I really appreciate it. Thank you and sorry for being such a fuck-up.”

Carme laughed.

“Damn if that was an apology, I guess I’ll have to take it. But one of the worst I’ve ever had.” Though her tone wasn’t unfriendly. “Ramon, get yourself together, and when you want, let’s sit down and talk about it. Good luck with Estel. Keep me posted on how he’s doing.”

She didn’t follow him back out to the float, but instead turned and headed toward her office.

And that afternoon, Ramon walked Estel in the police yard, after booking the police vet to come in and examine him on Monday.

twenty-two

The next day, Monday, Ramon was in at work punctually, after having walked Estel, with a list of boring tasks to trawl through for the day. How he wished he could be back on his beat with Jaume, instead of stuck in here behind a desk. He opened up the computer and set to comparing price lists for the supermarket case. The day dragged on. About eleven the vet dropped by and examined Estel.

“If nothing changes by tomorrow, no fresh swelling or tenderness, you can try riding him. But nothing excessive, just half an hour and then walk him again, and stay in the yard.”

Ramon nodded dutifully like a schoolboy being told that if he was good, holidays would start the next day. He went back to his desk in better spirits, a mood he still carried when his supervising officer, Santi Gasol, called him into his office an hour or so later. He assumed it would be about getting back on the beat. Santi was an older man with a neatly trimmed graying beard, who ran the station with a meticulous eye for detail.

“There was a comment attached to the report I received about the Casamitjana case,” he said when Ramon sat down.

“The MP’s burglary case? I haven’t worked on that one.”

“Yes, that’s what baffled me. Some evidence was added, went through Forensics, and was then removed again. Using your badge number. Know anything about that?”