'You won't believe it, Rita. About 10 of Castella's thugs broke into my uncle's farm last night, tried to take your bull, got him into the back of the truck before Silvio stopped them,' Dominguez said, pulling up his chair the following day. He looked shaken up. Rita took in her breath sharply. Most of Castella's associates had convictions for violence, some had spent significant stretches inside and all were sadistic and brutal. It made her sick to picture how they'd have rewarded Pepelito's affectionate and inquisitive nature.
'Dios mio. How is Silvio?'
'Fine, supposedly, but I think he's pretty shaken up by it. I did find a room but I'll stay at his tonight. He's pretty lucky if you ask me. That prick really scraped the barrel hiring these morons,' Dominguez said, sitting down at his desk.
'I told him, he needs a good lawyer. I know Castella's going to try and take him to court to get the bull back if he can't steal him, and he'll probably get some bought judge to go along with it. Silvio's so stubborn, who knows if he'll listen. I've been telling him for years he needs to get a proper home security system, he's got quite a valuable tractor he's not sold as he 'hasn't found the right buyer'. You cannot believe the amount of burglaries in that village, stuff needs to be nailed down.'
'Malditos. The police round there won't be any help.' Rita felt shock and not a little responsibility. She doubted Silvio fully appreciated what he was up against when he took him on. She hadn't either.
Dominguez shook his head. 'Nah. Pity it's just outside our jurisdiction. The village cops showed up, remember we worked with them a few times. Nice but useless, even with something like this, supposedly their specialty.'
'I can picture it,' Rita sighed. It was true. They were undertrained, understaffed, had outdated equipment and were completely unprepared to deal with someone like Castella.
'Not sure they'll try again in a hurry. 2 of them died! Though Silvio only mentioned it at the end of the conversation as an 'Oh by the way'. One of them was Andres Mecano, Castella's picador.' Rita stared, trying not to laugh in shock, unable to summon any sympathy.
'That guy was a piece of work. Didn't he just get out of prison?'
'Yep, just did 3 years inside for a racist assault. That old girl of Silvio's. Maribel. Seems to have developed a vicious temper in her old age. She trampled him, or Pepelito did, or both, then she kicked him in the head, right into a water trough. As for the other one - fuck knows, it could just be another of my uncle's stories.' Dominguez shook his head, trying and failing to keep a straight face.
'Remember Jose Enrique de Ruiz? We did him for pimping a few years back, remember. Real scumbag. Silvio says - get this - two of his geese pecked the bastard to death.' Rita stared at him. It wasn't unbelievable. She remembered being at her colleague's uncle's a few years ago and getting on the wrong side of the gaggle, who strutted around the farm like mafia bosses and had names like 'Diablo' and 'Bruta'.
'Pepelito's fine by the way, I thought you might want to know. Silvio adores him by the way, thinks he's great and won't stop going on about what a lovely temperament he's got. He did gore one of them, though, mind.' Dominguez scoffed.
'Pobrecito, he must have been scared out of his mind.' Rita remembered how terrified he'd been of the men's voices. De Ruiz had been in trouble for pimping. Had Sonia got on the wrong side of him - or someone who knew him?
'He's OK. Apparently quite bruised and knocked about. Silvio said your fella's coming to take a look later?'
'Yeah, he is, I'd like to come too, after the grim first day back on I've got. No doubt apologising to Bonita Gutiérrez for not having found her daughter's killer after 11 years.' The thought filled her with anxiety and shame, even though she had never worked on the case. Why had nobody paid attention until now?
'Ugh. Thought you might, me I've got an extra day stuck on the desks. See you after work then. Can see you've missed him, and it'd do Silvio good to see some official faces around that aren't from the village cop shop. I might get him to listen about the alarms.'
*
Bonita Gutiérrez opened the door to her sparsely decorated home. She looked at Rita and Mansouri with sad eyes. She clasped her rosary beads and clutched the fabric of the black dress she was wearing tightly, as if it was a security blanket. '11 years I've been waiting for news. Why did it take you so long?'
'Señora Gutiérrez, we really are sorry,' Rita said as the two officers stood on the doorstep.
'Well, don't just stand there. Come in. What's this about.'
'I'm very sorry for your loss, and I can't imagine how difficult it is, losing a child in these circumstances,' Rita said as they walked into the house and Bonita shoved them into the living room. The floor was rough and wooden, and the walls were bare except for a crucifix above the door, it was as if the home itself was in mourning. Bonita sat down heavily on an uncomfortable leather sofa in the corner of the room, took a cigarette out the packet. The house stank heavily of smoke.
'What's happened, then? Have you got him yet?' Her voice was resigned, sad but tinged with contempt.
'Señora Gutiérrez, there were several serious mistakes made in the original investigation of your daughter's murder, and we apologise on behalf of the entire department,' Mansouri said. Bonita gulped and took a puff on her cigarette.
'Of course there were! I tried to tell you people that at the time. But you lot didn't want to listen to me, what could the mother of a prostitute tell you.' Bonita swallowed hard. Rita saw she was shaking with rage.
'We are reopening your daughter's case, and this time, we will do everything we can to catch whoever killed her,' she said. The woman had been so badly let down. Rita's heart was breaking for her.
'That's what you said when it happened. What's this about, why now,' Bonita said suspiciously.
'We have evidence that the person who killed your daughter has killed one other person, and possibly more,' Rita said. Bonita's face hardened and she turned pale. She gripped the side of the hard sofa she was sitting on.
'You didn't care when it was just her. My little girl wasn't important to you, just some dead hooker, that's what you saw, it's what everyone saw.' She spoke through gritted teeth.
'And now he's killed again, has he. I told you he would if he wasn't caught.' Bonita brushed a strand of greying hair away from her face.
She breathed out heavily. At that moment the door unlocked and a girl of about 14 with long highlighted blonde and red hair walked in. 'Hi, Abuela.'
The teenage girl stared at the cops and did not acknowledge them at all as she went to sit down next to Bonita. She put her arm round her and said in a quiet voice, 'Is this about my mum?'
Bonita nodded, clasping her hands together. 'It is, Lucia.'
Her stomach plunging, Rita realised she'd seen the teenager before. Lucia was staring at her with a frightened, guilty expression. She had seen her the night they'd given Pepelito to Silvio; the girl had chucked a stone and shouted at her. Their eyes met and the girl quickly looked away.
'I understand this is difficult for both of you. I want to find out what Sonia was like as a person, who her friends were,' Rita said, trying not to show a reaction. Bonita's face froze.
'I was 3,' Lucia said, her lip trembling. 'I don't remember much. I remember she used to play with us, she used to tell us stories.'
'I told you, your mum was the kindest person, she'd do anything for anyone,' Bonita said, her voice cracking as she lit another cigarette on the sofa. She spluttered a little and Lucia rubbed her back. Bonita wiped her eyes with the fabric of the loose-fitting dress she was wearing.
'I'm sorry to ask this, but did Sonia ever talk about work, any violent or difficult clients, people who didn't want to pay up, people who had disturbing requests?' Mansouri said. Rita's heart sank. Maybe it did have to be asked. But the initial inquiry focused only on Sonia's sex work, not on other ways she could have encountered the killer. One of her clients, a man called Jorge, had been charged with the murder, although the charges were dropped before any trial could happen.
'What do you think! I've been through all this before, millions of times, it was all you lot were interested in asking me about, you never asked about anything else, if you had seen her as a bit more than a fucking prostitute, maybe you'd not be sitting here with me today!' Bonita howled. Lucia looked deeply uncomfortable. She hugged her grandmother as the older woman let out several choking sobs.
'You should go,' Lucia said in a voice too grown up for any child. Rita got to her feet. Mansouri awkwardly followed.
'I really am sorry,' she said to them both. Lucia squeezed her grandmother's hand and walked them to the door in the bare room, not speaking.
'I'm sorry too,' the teenager said in an undertone. For a second, she looked like she was going to say something, but didn't speak.
'That went well,' Rita muttered once they were in the car.
'I know I could have phrased it better. But most sex workers are killed by clients or pimps, let's be honest.' Mansouri looked troubled. It was a reasonable assumption. But the previous investigation had focused on it to the exclusion of absolutely everything else. Unsurprisingly, Bonita was furious.
'Caroline McKenzie wasn't a sex worker, was she, she had money. She couldn't be more removed from Sonia in background and lifestyle.' It came out more annoyed than Rita intended.
'Maybe this guy just hates women, no other reason behind it. And sex workers are an easy target for serial killers,' Mansouri said.
Rita shook her head. 'These victims had something in common. Caroline liked going online and trolling all sorts of people who treated animals badly. And we know Sonia attended animal rights protests with hardcore activists like Pilar Cadiz.' A shudder passed through her. She was dating Pilar's widower. Castella would fit Alfonso up for murder if he could. He'd get her fired - or worse. Like Aguilar, he had friends in high places and readily used the law to get what he wanted. And if that didn't work -
'It's worth looking at, but we've ruled out Castella, and I don't know if this is more than a coincidence.' Mansouri's tone was defensive. Rita tried to shake off her feelings of irritation. She regarded him sceptically.
'I just think - sometimes it is just a coincidence, you know?'
'Maybe. But we can't just look at one line of inquiry.'
Mansouri nodded, looking doubtful. 'Well, no. To be honest, I've been feeling a bit out of my depth on this one. I don't know why the boss put me in charge - pissed off with Jesus, probably, but sometimes I think he wants me to fail at something.'
'Don't think like that. You could have phrased it more sensitively but it's not the wrong question. Everything is worth looking into.' Rita said, surprised at his rare criticism. He seldom joined in when others vented their frustration.
'We shouldn't completely rule it out, though,' Mansouri said, a lot less confidently, sounding younger than his 24 years. She felt for him. What had Sanchez been thinking?
'No. Let's see what light Jorge Ramirez can shed, then.' Rita's anger crystallised towards the officers who had so badly botched the previous investigation.
She had to make things right.
AN: I've had to split the chapter up as it was so long.