Читать книгу Crocodile Tears онлайн

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“Out, everyone out and with your hands up. You too. Move it you fucker, come on, out.”

There are six guards, and the sound of boots in the corridor tells him more are on their way. He staggers out of the cell, everyone exits together, a uniformed gang advances down the corridor: guns, helmets, batons, shouting.

Candyman, they killed the Candyman. The whisper passes from mouth to mouth.

The prisoners move with an arsenal of weapons pointing at them, they are pushed and beaten, pressed up against a wall where they are kept immobile, huddled, trembling with cold and fear. Meanwhile, in a parallel universe, a few miles and several light years from this place, Ursula López is just beginning to wake up in her house in the Old Town.

Here in this world, in the prison, Diego sees the red prints left by his bare feet. He feels the blood congealing, starting to form a crust on his heels.

At least this time it wasn’t his blood.

45

Captain Lima opens the file, leafs through it absent-mindedly, takes another sip of the coffee that is already somewhat bitter by this point in the afternoon, reads a few paragraphs here and there, sighs or yawns. Lost in other thoughts, she turns a couple of pages, raises her gaze and looks outside at the vista of soot-covered walls beyond her office window, thinks about her journey home, the walk along cold dark streets, tries to recall the contents of her fridge. She lowers her gaze and strives to concentrate on the case, to continue with her reading: interrogations, psychiatric evaluations, lists of phone calls, statements, police reports, fingerprint analyses, photographs, paper, paper and more paper.