As always, he was haunted by the promise he'd made to the people of Seville in a live broadcast on 10th June: that he would find the perpetrators of the Seville bombing, even if it took him the rest of his career. That was what he faced, although he would never admit it to Comisario Elvira, when he woke up alone in the dark. He had penetrated the conspiracy, gained access to the dark castle, but it had rewarded him with nothing. Now he was reduced to hoping for 'the secret door' or 'the hidden passage' which would take him to what he could not see.

What he had noticed was that the one person, over these three long months, who was never far from his thoughts was the disgraced judge, Esteban Calderon, and, by association, the judge's girlfriend, a Cuban wood sculptor called Marisa Moreno.

'Inspector Jefe?'

Falcon looked up from the dark pit of his mind to find the wide-open face of one of his best young detectives, the ex-nun, Cristina Ferrera. There was nothing very particular about Cristina that made her attractive – the small nose, the big smile, the short, straight, dull blonde hair didn't do it. But what she had on the inside – a big heart, unshakeable moral beliefs and an extraordinary empathy – had a way of appearing on the outside. And it was that which Falcon had found so appealing during their first interview for the job she now held.

'I thought you were in here,' she said, 'but you didn't answer. Up early?'

'A colourful Russian got killed by a flying steel rod on the motorway,' said Falcon. 'Have you got anything for me?'

'Two weeks ago you asked me to look into the life of Juez Calderon's girlfriend, Marisa Moreno, to see if there was any dirt attached,' said Ferrera.

'And here I am, by remarkable coincidence, thinking about that very person,' said Falcon. 'Go on.'

'Don't get too excited.'