The Mallorca Files

I just think... No! It was an undercover operation.

We were a tribute band. We made the arrest. It's over.

But when we were up there, on stage, the crowd going wild...

I just think it would be a crime to deny the fans more of that magic.

Diego Gris, the oldest son of one of the wealthiest families

on the island, is missing.

Obviously, an investigation like

this needs a discreet and serious approach.

I thought of you two.

Huh? Brr-rrr!

Diego drove away from the family villa three days ago.

He told the staff he'd be back for dinner,

but hasn't been seen since.

Is he the playboy type who might jet off to Monaco on a whim?

Do we know if he has any enemies? Has he dropped out of sight before?

All those are really good questions. Very good.

The Gris family made their fortune in olive oil and wine.

They built the town and, of course,

put their own little place on top of it.

Ugh! What?

You don't have to brutalise the door of a BMW.

I said this before.

It just takes one smooth push...

.. and the mechanism takes over.

You're kidding.

Hi. Erm, Palma police. Here to see Senora Gris?

Gracias.

Oh, wow.

Rosalia married Ramon Gris when she was 26 and he was 74.

Seen here in full-on Spanish fascist mode.

Never marry for money, always marry for love.

But if a man's got money,

try and love him anyway.

Took over the business when he died.

Expanded into Italy and France.

Doubled profits in two years.

Wow, that's actually pretty impressive.

Uh-huh. Nothing says strong, independent woman

more than marrying a 74-year-old millionaire.

Senora Gris?

I'm so sorry to call you out here.

Please. It's absolutely not a problem.

I'm Detective Blake... My family,

the Gris family, is the foundation and the heart of this town.

The people know they owe us a very unfashionable thing...

.. deference.

Ah. Hm.

Some say deference belongs to the past.

These same people who, in my youth, threatened anarchy.

You mean in the war? Republicans who opposed your husband?

And today, they want to dig up bodies of traitors

on our own land and call them heroes.

Ramon and the men who served him - they were the heroes.

And you believe these people are behind your son's disappearance?

You try to soften the pain...

.. but I believe my son is dead.

A mother feels this in her heart.

He's my son.

Please... bring me some peace.

Deference. Seriously?

She's just used to getting what she pays for.

Let's see what her son Diego was up to.

Hmm...

Ah! The day he disappeared, Diego had lunch with Maria Himenez.

That name.

The name...

Why do I know that name?

Ah, Diego's phone records show a bunch of calls

to and from Maria Himenez in the days before he disappeared.

Hmm.

Why would you lock that away?

It's Latin.

"Nunc aut nunquam"?

Here we go. Nunc aut nunquam - now or never.

Maybe it's some kind of a lead.

DOOR SLAMS

OK, that's it. Step away from the vehicle.

Yeah, obviously, I need to show you how this is done.

Hmm.

One gentle push. Mm-hm.

Now you.

One... gentle... push.

Got it.

Oops.

Oh, according to her website, Maria Himenez

is excavating the graves of those who disappeared in the Civil War.

She's a forensic scientist.

So that's what Rosalia meant about digging up the past.

Maria, los detectives Blake and Winter estan aqui.

So, Detective Blake is a blonde.

If I knew you were at the police station,

I would have had to stop by to confess so many bad things.

We're looking into the disappearance of Diego Gris.

I have a few questions I need to ask you.

OK.

Then I have some for you.

Why don't you take a look around, darling? We'll be fine here.

Detective Winter...

So what can you tell us about Diego Gris?

Well, half the town think he's no better than a cockroach.

And I think that's not so fair to cockroaches.

But you had lunch with him the day he disappeared.

Yeah.

Well, show me a world where we all get to do what we want,

and I say no to lunch with a creep like Diego Gris.

This excavation is on the Gris family land.

I got permission from the state.

The Gris family wanted to overturn it. No permission. No dig.

So I laugh at his jokes, order the most expensive thing on the menu

and try not to look at my watch.

Then I get back to work.

Can you tell us why he's so hated?

Sure.

Or I can show you.

Please.

It was 80 years ago, August 28th 1936.

The Civil War is at its height.

Nationalists begin systematic reprisals

against Republican volunteers.

They took young men from their homes,

their families, their mother.

They lined them up against the wall of the church,

right in the centre of town...

.. and then put a bullet in the back of each of their heads.

Diego's father, Ramon,

was proud to wear the uniform alongside Franco, the dictator.

People took to calling him the Pig.

The same thing is happening all over Spain.

Once you exhume the bodies, what then?

We identify DNA so relatives can finally bury their dead.

And people queue up to get their DNA tested,

to see if we can find their brother or father or grandfather.

They don't want the past left alone.

We know Diego objected to your work.

Does that sound like I have a motive to kill him?

Well, trust me, you're going to meet a lot of people who hated Diego

before you find the one who did.

You sound sure he's dead.

I hope to God he is.

When you parted after lunch, that was the last time you saw Diego?

He wanted me to come with him to talk to Father Garcia.

I said I'd rather eat nails.

Yeah.

You know, we have a lot in common.

Both of us are trying to solve mysteries about dead people.

We should get together some time.

Compare notes with a cold drink on a warm night.

Thanks, but, erm, I'm more of a "warm drink on a cold night"

kind of girl.

Really?

I'm not so sure.

Bye.

If a row about excavating the bodies did lead somebody to murder Diego,

maybe this Father Garcia can shed some light on it?

Maybe.

The one thing I do know -

that VW Beetle's been following us since we left the Gris villa.

It's still there.

I suppose if he's so keen on following people...

Let's see how good he is.

You looking for some...?

Where is he?

Huh?

I lost him.

You mean, you lost him?

Agh!

What the hell, Max?

I was playing that little game of turn the tables

when you two were passing notes to each other in geography class.

Who are you? And why were you following us?

Because I know you're looking for Diego Gris.

And so am I.

Frank Bottomley, private detective.

Trouble is my business.

We need to work together.

Hmm... I don't think so.

See, we're detectives - professional representative of the state -

and you're an amateur whose bread-and-butter work, I imagine,

is insurance claims, adultery and debt recovery.

I'm an ex-cop with 30 years on the clock

and some very, very useful information.

There we go.

Glass of blanco for Detective Winter.

Tinto for Detective Blake.

Orange juice for me.

To ten years sober.

A marriage and half my liver lost to the devil in a bottle.

Cheers!

OK, Frank...

.. why did Rosalia Gris hire you?

And what exactly is your record for missing person investigations?

Diego's not missing.

When you find him, you'll find him cold and dead.

Why is everybody so sure he's dead?

With a missing person case, use the ABC method.

A for abducted.

B for a bullet in the head.

C for career move.

Frank, is this what you dreamed of those cold nights walking the beat

in Kentish Town or wherever?