Evita’s Cadiz Mystery by Adam Rutter

Edward looked at the view of whitewashed buildings from his hotel room, watching terraced houses turn crimson-red at sunset. Looking down, he saw a woman looking through a pair of binoculars, by the roadside. The binoculars were attached to a tripod. The woman had been looking in the same direction probably within the last ten minutes. Maybe more. She was still looking through the binoculars, at the same spot, shortly after sundown. Even when turquoise blue skies faded into twilight, it was still bright enough to see right across the village. She was at a viewpoint, which offered a panorama of Vejer De La Frontera for tourists. Situated in Cadiz province, in southern Spain, Vejer De La Frontera nestled in the valleys of Andalucia, a remote location that was isolated from a city. Edward had visited Spain many times. He used to go to the Pyrenees, trekking the entire breadth of the mountain range, from Cataluna, to Andorra. This was the first time he stayed in Andalusia. It was popular with hikers like Edward, including the occasional globetrotter passing through.

 

The woman opened her rucksack, and took out a camera. She attached the telephoto lens, and then began taking snaps. The village was built in a natural arena with the best vantage point from the hillside. Since his arrival, he had seen tourists taking selfies at the viewpoint. Had he seen anybody else looking at the vista through binoculars?Apparently not. The woman was the only visitor he had seen using binoculars. Edward saw the odd photographer taking single shots, whereas he was watching her taking multiple shots. By now it was dusk. There was only a few moments till nightfall. Edward walked out of the hotel, wandering to the other side of the road. He leaned against the wall, pretending to admire the view, watching the full moon popping up from behind the houses lining the crest of the hill.

‘You know this scenery will still be here tomorrow,’ said Edward.

‘Excuse me,’ she said, talking with a Spanish accent.

‘You can see this scenery a thousand times, but it’ll always look different every time you come here.’

‘I’ve not come for the scenery.’

‘So I take it that you’re on vacation.’

‘I’m here just for tonight.’

‘Are you visiting relatives?’

‘I will cut to the chase. I'm here on official capacity.’

‘A business trip, huh?’

‘Something like that.’

‘Is it the first time you’ve come here?’

‘My first and last.’

‘Let’s introduce ourselves.’

‘Let’s start with you first, shall we?’

‘Oh. Okay. My name is Ed. And you?’

‘Evita.’

‘It’s good to meet you Evita.’

‘It’s good to meet you Evita. I was thinking...’

‘Would please excuse me? I have an early appointment scheduled for tomorrow. I'm sorry to cut our meeting short,’ said Evita, putting her equipment away.

‘Have a good night Ed,’ she continued, putting her return on. She cut down a narrow cobbled street. Her anklebootsclattered on the cobbles, echoing underneath the arch, subsiding towards the valley, falling into silence. The street lamps flicked on. The village was as quiet as the evening.

 

The following day, Edward cut down the cobbled street, stopped at a café for a cappuccino, which was in the middle of a narrow street, just a few blocks away from the hotel. Walking out of the café was a woman wearing a black dress with a white collar, taking the cappuccino to Edward’s table.

‘Here you go,’ she said.

This time, she spoke with an American accent.

‘Hello Evita,’ said Edward.

She looked up, her eyes popping out like a cork.

‘Ed!’

‘You were here just for the night huh,’ he said.

‘I can’t discuss it now Ed.’

‘Discuss what?’

‘The mission.’

‘Mission? Oh, by the way, whatever happened to the lingo?’

‘Please don’t Ed.’

‘You were just shunning me last night.’

‘It’s not my job to shun people.’

‘No, because you’re working at a hospitality.’

‘Not for long.’

‘Oh, just for tonight again, is it?’

‘I’ll be staying as long as my services are required.’

‘Why? Are you on a contract?’

‘To cut the long story short Ed, I'm a private investigator.’

‘Oh so you’re investigating me, are you?’

‘Maybe.’

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

‘Does the name Stephen Wentworth mean anything to you?’

‘Sure. He's the guy who went missing in 2021.’

‘So you know about his disappearance then? ‘

‘Of course. He was my best pal.’

‘Where is he now then?’

‘How should I know? I haven't seen Stephen since he went missing.’

‘When was the last time you saw Stephen?’

‘A few days before his disappearance. Why are you asking me all this?’

‘What if I told you that Stephen Wentworth is in Frontera?’

‘You've got to be kidding me. What! Stephen out here? No way.’

Evita’s face was as serious as somebody being told bad news.

‘He is here. Isn't he,’ asked Edward. ‘He is in this village. Tell me,’ he continued.

‘Yes. He is.’

‘How d'you know?’

‘I saw him.’

‘When?’

‘Last night.’

‘Hey!?’

‘The moment you spoke to me at the viewpoint, that’s when I saw Stephen.’