Unpaid Debts by Antonio Jiménez Barca

Author:Antonio Jiménez Barca [Antonio Jiménez Barca]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9788494349638
Publisher: Hispabooks
Published: 2015-03-03T00:00:00+00:00

It happened not long after I’d left Usera, when I was merging onto the M-30 freeway. I realized that someone was following me, and that they’d been following me all morning. Like some nagging idea at the back of my mind that just won’t quite go away, was that red Renault 21 driving along behind me at that moment. I was sure I’d seen it at the gate of the parking lot at Sánchez-Vidal’s residence, and that at some traffic lights between the old folk’s home and Usera it had pulled up next to me, alongside all the other cars. I remembered noticing that there were two guys inside, but I couldn’t recall their faces. And now here they were driving behind me on the M-30, in my rear-view mirror, every single second. I have never had a real fight with anybody, not even back when the Valley kids—including Trendy—came after us with sticks from the nearby buildings. Years later, when a drunk was about to beat me up because I’d tripped and bumped into him, Trendy showed me how to stop a guy dead before anything starts, with a single punch to the chest, or a knee in the crotch. But I’d never put it into practice. I’d never been in a situation where I needed to punch anyone or to run away. This was the first time in my life that anybody had ever chased me, I thought as I accelerated a little, despite the complaints from Isabel’s car. Anyway, I felt that Trendy’s improvised street fighting class all those years ago wouldn’t do much good if the Palacios guys actually caught up with me. From the very first moment I had the feeling that the guys in the red Renault almost scraping my rear bumper were in Palacios’ gang, and had been involved in both Trendy’s murder and the burglary at the agency. I stepped on the gas a little more, the car moaned, and the Renault also sped up. I wondered if Trendy had wanted to tell me something but had decided not to in order to keep me out of it. Maybe Palacios’ men assumed that he had told me and that’s why they were after me. That meant that these two guys were perfectly capable of getting out at any traffic light where there were fewer cars, firing two bullets into my head, and leaving me there. I would remain there until the limping judge and her ambulance and Inspector Roche with his team of dark raincoats from the homicide department would come to take my body away. Just the certainty that at any moment these guys could run me off the road or against another car on some other section of the freeway scared me so much that I was at the point of slamming on the brakes and just letting them smash into me. Until that moment I had never felt fear like it—a fear that pumped through my veins, shooting into

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