“Vicente had it. My bodyguard. Before we got to Barcelona, we stopped at a gas station. I asked Vicente to buy a notebook, and I copied the numbers there so that he too had a copy, in case something happened and we had to separate. He knew someone he could trust in the city, and he was going to ask that person to locate the certificates and destroy them, after we’d got rid of Martín and found out who else he’d given that information to. That was the plan.”

“And where’s that copy now?”

“I don’t know. Vicente had it on him. I don’t know what they’ve done with his body.”

“Is there any other copy apart from the one Vicente had?”

“No.”

“Are you sure now?”

“Yes.”

“You know that if you lie to me, or you hide something from me, I’ll keep you here indefinitely.”

“I’m not lying.”

Hendaya nodded and fell into a long silence. Valls was afraid he would go and leave him alone again for another twelve hours. He’d reached the point at which Hendaya’s brief visits were the only event he could look forward to.

“Why haven’t you killed me yet?”

Hendaya smiled as if he’d been waiting for the question, for which he had a perfectly rehearsed answer. “Because you don’t deserve it.”

“Does Leandro hate me that much?”

“Señor Montalvo doesn’t hate anyone.”

“What must I do to deserve it?”

Hendaya was looking at him with interest. “From my experience, those who boast the loudest about their wish to die fall apart at the last moment when they see the wolf’s teeth, and plead like little girls.”

“It’s ears.”

“What?”

“The Spanish saying is ‘To see the wolf’s ears.’ Not teeth.”

“I always forget we have a distinguished man of letters as our guest.”

“Is that what I am? One of Leandro’s guests?”

“You’re no longer anything. And when the wolf jumps upon you, and it will, the first thing you’ll notice will be its teeth.”

“I’m ready.”

“I don’t blame you. Don’t think I’m not aware of your situation and what you must be going through.”

“A compassionate butcher.”

“A thief thinks everyone steals. You see, I know about sayings too. I propose a deal. Between you and me. If you behave well and help me, I’ll kill you myself. It will be clean. A shot in the back of the neck. You won’t even notice. What do you say?”

“What must I do?”

“Come over. I want to show you something.”

Valls moved over to the bars of the cell. Hendaya was looking for something inside his jacket, and for a second Valls prayed it was a revolver and he’d blow off his head right there. What he pulled out was a photograph.

“I know someone was here. Don’t bother to deny it. I want you to have a good look at this photo and tell me whether this is the person you saw.”

Hendaya showed him the picture. Valls nodded.