Sangre De Toro (Old Draft - Now Published!)

Chapter 27 - Perfect Symmetry

A night in the cells hadn’t done Valero any good; he was sweating and having trouble composing himself. His lawyer Antonio sat beside him, as nervous as a rabbit caught in headlights. They weren’t the only ones. Rita’s night had been sleepless; embarrassed and ashamed of letting everything get too much. She attempted to keep her face looking hard, not anxious, glaring at Valero like shit on her shoe.

Sonia's clothing from the day she went missing had finally been found, ripped and covered in blood, in a plastic bag hidden in a cardboard box at a storage unit Valero rented. He had access to bullfighting equipment through work, and kept various darts and knives at his home. It was his job to jab the darts into the bulls' necks as they went into the ring. He had a criminal record, mostly for petty crime, but had spent time in jail for domestic violence.

But he couldn't be the main killer.

Various bars had provided receipts from the day Caroline McKenzie was murdered, showing he started drinking much earlier than when he claimed to stop looking for Pepelito. The hotel’s server was hacked shortly before the murder; Valero had no computer at home. His racist Facebook comments and frequent visits to far-right websites didn’t make him a killer.

And he’d never been to the UK.

'Let's ask again. What was your relationship with this woman?' Rita showed him the photo of Sonia; he physically recoiled, his lips tight. His skin had turned grey, he looked ill. His lawyer Antonio looked towards them, almost pleading for help, until Valero finally said, 'No comment' in a shaky whisper.

'You knew her, didn't you?' Rita said.

'I didn't do it,' he stuttered.

'Nobody's accusing you of that,' Rita said, leaning towards him.

'We know there's someone else. You couldn't have done all five,' Mansouri said, taking out the bloodstained bag with Sonia's cut off leggings, crop top and underwear.

'So go on. Why were these items in your storage unit?’

'I've never seen them before,' Valero said, gaping at the clothes with a terrified expression on his face, not looking at his questioner.

'But you knew Sonia, didn't you?' Mansouri said in an unemotional voice.

'I didn't-' Valero started, as Mansouri gave him a cold stare.

'Oh, we know you did,' Rita said. Valero looked between the two of them for several minutes, disorientated, before finally pointing his finger at her. 

'I know who you are – you’re that bitch who took the bull! You should be in jail for theft!’

‘Theft? This is a bit more than that,’ Rita snapped.

'You knew Sonia,' Mansouri said. Valero shook his head.

'Yes you did. You knew her, and you hated her. You hated her because she hated what you did, and she had the temerity to say so.' He gave a cold stare across the table. Valero opened his mouth in outrage, clenching his fists.

'You. If you don't like our traditions, get the fuck out of our country! Go back to – to – the Taliban! Don’t call me a murderer because I told that bitch where to go!’