The Mallorca Files

My pen!

Please!

Please...

Oh, no! No!

Oh, please!

Don't hurt me!

Big night?

Oh... Oh, yeah.

Me and Carmen throwing shapes on the dance floor till sunrise.

Monday's the new Friday, then, is it?

What actually happened was that we stared at paint charts

till the small hours, trying to agree on new colours for the bar.

Let me guess - no agreements?

Winter? Blake?

Come.

A birdwatcher.

A British birdwatcher.

And there was I, hoping for a nice and quiet Tuesday.

Tony Ball. His wife Linda has already called us six or seven times this morning.

She hasn't heard from him since Sunday evening.

He often vanishes in search of birds apparently,

but he always lets his wife know where he is and when he might be returning.

Maybe he hadn't intended to return.

Hmm! An unfaithful homing pigeon?

Well, Linda swears Tony is a loving and devoted husband.

What the eye doesn't see?

While we're checking the traffic-cams, I want you two to go and talk to Linda.

Intuition?

Information.

Tony also happens to be a diabetic.

He carries a insulin kit in his camper van,

but, you know, if he's had an accident somewhere remote...

The address of the villa.

Pollenca.

Pollenca!

That's us at a works do.

Our staff nicknamed him Tony Bore.

Every T crossed, every I dotted.

It's so unlike him not to have checked in with me.

And all he told you was that he was heading out to the coast?

Hmm.

Well, there's that patch of marshland over in Maristany.

Or the natural reserve at Mondrago.

To be honest, it probably went in one ear and out of the other.

I was busy fixing a vegan smoothie for Cesar.

Cesar?

My massage therapist. He comes to do my back every Sunday.

Hmm.

So I got back from my swimming class last night and then I realised

24 hours had gone by without a word from Tony.

Does he ever join you at the pool? Tony?

No! He's terrified of water.

Oh, you don't think he could've fallen in somewhere, do you?

Erm...

I was just wondering what kind of things you might like to do together?

Together?

Tony's as interested in my exercise room as I am his man cave.

I like to dance - Tony's got two left feet.

I love my golf - he likes to think of it as a good walk spoiled.

Might he have had other plans for Sunday night?

Tony's plans only ever concern birds.

He'd gone out to watch nocturnal species,

whatever they may be.

Owls, maybe? Oh.

My dad was a keen twitcher.

Used to wake me up to hear them twit-twoo-ing outside my window.

Happy days.

But less happy nights, I'd imagine.

Does this place ring any bells, Linda?

Oh, yeah. Tony might've been there once or twice.

Seems like a good place for Max and I to start making some enquiries.

Wouldn't you say?

Imagine, my friends...

...how it must feel to be captured and imprisoned,

torn from your family and friends.

Aw...

You can't sing or feed...

...and then...

...transported overseas by ruthless criminals,

you contract a virus from your filthy cage...

...dying a slow and miserable death.

So the choice is ours -

we either stand fast against the enemies of nature

or we lose our beautiful birds for ever.

Warden Alvarez?

It depends who's looking for him.

Let me finish with these kids,

then I would be happy to help you personally.

We appreciate the offer,

but it would be better if my partner and I search on our own.

The serious birders tend to head for what we call our hotspots,

where they are more likely to spot rarer species, vagrants

or migratory visitors.

You should start with these. Take a couple of our mountain bikes.

It will make things a lot quicker.

Emilia, fetch our friends some binoculars, would you?

Thank you.

Emilia's the best assistant I ever had,

and I've had a few.

Gracias.

Miss Fernandez cares deeply about the natural world.

Ah! You might recognise Tony Ball.

We mustn't hold you up, Emilia.

We are currently conducting an important research programme,

ringing and recording migratory species.

Emilia here is in charge of hanging our mist nets.

Vital work.

Do you know, Max, I don't know what I find more weird -

Emilia's body language, or her boss putting her on a pedestal like that?

Ah, that famous fertile imagination.

Me? Who was it that came up with the melodramatic love triangle theory?

Which we still shouldn't discount. Max...

...Tony and Linda just got used to living separate lives.

It can happen in a marriage.

Just because you helped Carmen pick out some colours for the bar

doesn't mean she wants you to join her on one of her spray-can sorties.

So, this is the wild beyond, huh?

Honestly, Max, you can be such a snob.

I'm just more your metropolitan type.

I used to say the same to my dad

when he insisted on hauling me off to see the puffins on Skomer Island

or the red kites on the Brecon Beacons.

Yes, well, my character was formed quite some time ago.

Oh, we all know that!

What's that supposed to mean?

To be at one with nature requires an appreciation of stillness and silence.

Well, silence is just plain weird to an urban guy like me... Whoa!

Well, must've had a loose spoke, or something.

Hmm.

No further questions, milord!

Well, seeing as we've, er, stopped,

I think we ought to find out if Emilia Fernandez has any previous, don't you?

You sure you're not over-reacting?

As sure as I know you'll never win the Tour de France.

Patience is a virtue too, you know.

Uh-huh. Give things time.

You never know what might turn up.

If it turns up at all.

OK.

Emilia Fernandez, 22 years old, one of five kids,

hard-knock upbringing in a Son Gotleu tenement.

Currently serving 12 months' probation.

For what? Don't know. They'll get back to us about that.

Uh-huh. Still think I'm over-reacting?

Well, we'll see.

Argh! Urgh!

Argh! There's more than mud in that mud!

Well, luckily, I happened to pick up my dry-cleaning this morning.

Shh-shh-shh. Don't move.

Hello?

May we help you?

I beg your pardon?

You seem rather interested in us.

I was observing a purple gallinule, but you're blocking my view of it.

And now you've scared it off.

Hmm.

This place is huge.

Keep up, Max, we need to find him.

Oh. We're going to have to ask Ines for help.

You ask for help?

Give things some time, and you never know what might turn up.

Hmm...

Time.

See?

What did I tell you?

Oh.

Tony?

Mr Ball?

Must've taken some driving for Tony to get all the way out here.

Well, it's tricky enough on mountain bikes.

Hmm.

Max.

Ball's lunch?

His insulin kit.

His undisturbed insulin kit.

At least he's take his injector pen.

Well, even if he has,

he wouldn't have enough insulin to keep him going for...

12, maybe 15 hours.

Yeah. And he's been missing for 36 hours.

Miranda my hands are tied.

Sending dog teams and helicopters into a conservation area

requires a specific warrant

that takes time to obtain - time you simply don't have.

Well, there's a diabetic man out here, possibly injured, in dire straits.

I'll send an officer team as soon as I can, OK?

In the meantime, you and Max will have to search a little harder

and a lot faster.

Easy for her to say.

Help me!

Somebody help me!

I think we might be...

...a bit lost.

We?

You're in charge of the map!

But how's anyone supposed to follow it without any discernible landmarks?

Well, I managed OK.

Yeah, but you are at one with nature.

Max, this wilderness you've brought us to is so far off any beaten track,

do you really imagine we're going to come across anything that...?