“Fumero is going to be so happy when he sees he’s got such a young tart waiting for him. He’ll give you a real makeover.”

Alicia had heard about Fumero. There were loads of stories about him in the streets, and about what happened to the poor devils who ended up in a dungeon like the one in the basement of police headquarters. She didn’t know whether she was trembling from cold or from fear, and when hours later the metal door opened and she heard voices and footsteps, she closed her eyes and felt urine running between her thighs and sliding down her legs.

“Open your eyes,” said a voice.

A man of medium height with the look of a small-town lawyer was smiling warmly at her through her tears. There was nobody else in the room. The guy, in an immaculate suit and smelling of lemony eau de cologne, gazed at her for a while and then walked around the table and stood behind her. Alicia pressed her lips tight to drown the cry of terror that burned her throat when she felt those hands on her shoulders and his mouth brushing her left ear.

“Don’t be afraid, Alicia.”

She began to shake violently, swaying on the chair to which she was fastened. She felt the man’s hands making their way down her back, and when the pressure gripping her wrists was relieved, it took her a few seconds to realize that her captor had removed her handcuffs. Her circulation slowly returned to her limbs, and with it the pain. The man took her arms and placed them delicately on the table. He sat down next to her and started to massage her wrists. “My name is Leandro,” he said. “Better?”

Alicia nodded.

Leandro smiled and let go of her hands. “I’m now going to take the shackles off your ankles. But first I need to make sure that you’re not going to do anything silly.”

She shook her head.

“Nobody’s going to hurt you,” said Leandro as he removed the shackles.

When she was free, Alicia stood up and ran for shelter to a corner of the room.

The man’s gaze fixed on the puddle of urine under the chair. “I apologize, Alicia.”

“What do you want?”

“I want us to have a chat. That’s all.”

“What about?”

“About the man you’ve been working for these last two years. Baltasar Ruano.”

“I don’t owe him anything.”

“I know. I want you to know that Ruano has been arrested, together with most of your gang.”

Alicia looked at him suspiciously.

“What are they going to do to him?”

Leandro shrugged. “Ruano’s finished. He confessed after a long interrogation. He’ll be garroted. It’s a matter of days. That’s good news for you.”

Alicia swallowed hard. “What about the others?”

“They’re just kids. Reformatory or prison. For the lucky ones, that is. The ones who go back to the streets have their days numbered.”

“And me?”

“That depends.”

“On what?”