“Good morning,” he said as he sat down at the wheel again. “It’s cold as hell out there. I’ve brought you some breakfast. More roadside delicacy than continental, but at least it’s hot. Coffee with milk and some deep-fried pastry sticks that looked good. I asked them to pour a bit of brandy into the coffee, to lift the spirits.”

“Thanks. Let me know what I owe you.”

“It’s all included in the fare, full board. Go on, eat a bit. It will do you good.”

They had their breakfast in silence, inside the car. Alicia wasn’t hungry, but she knew she needed to eat. Every time another one of those heavy-duty trucks went by, the rearview mirror vibrated and the whole car shook.

“Where are we?”

“Ten kilometers outside Madrid. A couple of delivery-van drivers told me there are Civil Guard controls at most of the entrances of the main roads coming from the east, so I thought we could make a detour and go in through the Casa de Campo road or through Moncloa.”

“And why would we do that?”

“I don’t know. It just occurred to me that a Barcelona taxi entering Madrid at seven o’clock in the morning might attract attention. Because it’s yellow, that’s all. And we two make a bit of an odd couple, no offense. But you’re the boss.”

Alicia finished her coffee in one gulp. The brandy burned like gasoline, but warmed her bones a little. The taxi driver was looking at her out of the corner of his eye. Alicia hadn’t paid much attention to him until then. He was younger than he seemed, with reddish hair and pale skin. His glasses were held together over the nose bridge with insulating tape, and he still looked like a teenager.

“What’s your name?” asked Alicia.

“Mine?”

“No. The taxi’s.”

“Ernesto. My name is Ernesto.”

“Do you trust me, Ernesto?”

“Are you trustworthy?”

“Up to a point.”

“I see. Do you mind if I ask you a rather personal question?” said the taxi driver. “You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.”

“Fire ahead. What’s on your mind?”

“That’s what’s on my mind, actually. Firing. Earlier, when we left Guadalajara, we took a sharp bend, and all the stuff in your bag ended up on the back seat. As you were asleep, I didn’t want to bother you, and I put it all back . . .”

Alicia sighed, nodding. “And you saw that I’m carrying a gun.”

“Well, yes. And it didn’t look much like a water pistol, although, quite frankly, I’m no expert on the subject.”

“If that makes you feel more at ease, you can drop me off here. I’ll pay you what we agreed, and then I’ll ask one of your truck-driver friends in there to drive me up to Madrid. I’m sure one of them will agree.”

“I haven’t the slightest doubt about that, but I wouldn’t feel too happy about it.”

“Don’t worry about me. I can handle myself.”