In an exclusive restaurant in the center of the city, Gonzalo Fuentes and Judge Aurelio Sánchez were dining in a private private room. The tension was palpable. That lawyer is asking too many questions,” Aurelio said as he cut his steak. He visited the prison, spoke with the director, was in the home where they have the girl and now I know that he went to San Jerónimo. Gonzalo stopped eating. San Jerónimo, why would he go there? The mother of the gardener, the one who disappeared, lives there. Martín is dead.
We make sure of that. Are you sure? We never found the body. What if he spoke before we reached him? What if he left something that could incriminate us? Gonzalo felt a cold sweat run down his back. What do you suggest? Your brother’s execution is in 48 hours. Once that happens, the case is closed forever. No one is going to reopen an investigation for a man already executed. We need those 48 hours to pass without problems. And lawyer Aurelio took a sip of wine.
He is 68 years old and has heart problems. Accidents happen. Older people fall. He forgets to take his medicines. He has emergencies in the middle of the night. Are you suggesting? I’m not suggesting anything. I’m saying you have 48 hours to resolve this issue. How you solve it is your business. But if that woman presents something to a court before the execution, we will both fall. Gonzalo nodded slowly. He had come too far to stop now. One more death would change nothing, it would only secure his future.
Dolores arrived home exhausted. The trip to San Jerónimo had exhausted her, but what she discovered was worth every kilometer. Martín Reyes was the key. I had proof, I just needed to find it. He checked his mail before entering. Between invoices and advertising there was a package without a return address, a padded, heavy envelope. He opened it carefully. Inside was a drawing. A drawing made with crayons, clearly by the hand of a very young child. It showed a house, a figure lying on the ground, and a man standing next to it.
The man had a blue shirt. On the bottom someone had written one. Date, 5 years ago, three days after Sarah’s death. Dolores turned the drawing over. Behind it was a message written in adult handwriting. If someone sees this, it’s too late, but if there’s still time, keep looking. The truth is closer than you think. Mr. Mr. Martín Reyes. Dolores felt her heart pounding. Martín was alive. I had kept this drawing for 5 years waiting for the right moment and now, with the execution days away I had decided to act.
But why send a drawing of a girl? What was he trying to say? She examined the drawing again, the blue shirt, the photos Carlos had shown her. Gonzalo always wore blue shirts. Salome had drawn what she saw that night. At 3 years old he had created the test that could save his father and someone had kept it all this time. Dolores needed to confirm that the drawing was authentic. She contacted an old friend, Patricia Mendez, a forensic psychologist with 30 years of experience in childhood trauma cases.
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