Good afternoon, Fernández. Thanks for coming.

- Did you have a choice?

- There's always a choice, Fernández, always.

He let out a resigned sigh. I led him to the living room. He had gained some weight and his overall appearance had improved. He still had that abandoned puppy look in the rain. He observed the details of my apartment with admiration, without a hint of envy, appreciating each piece of furniture, each painting, each object.

- Would you like to have something to drink?

I pointed to the bar.

- The truth is that I'm not on duty…

- Well, I recommend the whiskey, it's a 26-year-old Lagavulin, in a diamond-encrusted bottle. Pour me one too and come sit on the couch.

I chose the armchair and waited for him to come with the two glasses. He offered me the one with the most generous serving while he had barely served himself a few drops. He sat down, I made the gesture of a toast, and we savored the liquid. He closed his eyes, and his face reflected the pleasure he felt.

- It's delicious, I've never tasted such good whiskey, the smoky point it has is incredible… Can I ask how much the bottle costs?

- More than two thousand euros, Fernández.

He sketched a half-smile of resignation and took another half-sip.

- Look, I didn't make you come to chat, as you understand. We're going to do something good together that will benefit both of us.

- Yeah. Something on the edge of the law or directly outside the law. I won't…

- You shut up and listen to me. What you're going to do, your part, is perfectly within the law, I would never put you in danger, and it will catapult your career.

- Yeah, and his part?

I looked at him with all my irony.

- We'll see. In any case…

- He doesn't care about anything as long as he gets what he wants, right?

- Like you come back to interrupt me, I'll give you a beating. No, I don't care if someone harms the people I love, if by bypassing the law I can stop a crime… For God's sake, Fernández, you know how it works…

He lowered his gaze, somewhat ashamed.

- I've discovered that the regional gymnastics selector abuses the boys, and I think especially minors… Does that seem like enough reason to act?

His brow furrowed, and a grimace of indignation and disgust.

- Agreed, but there are channels, protocols…

- To hell with all that, Fernández!

I was getting angry, I stood up, left my glass on the coffee table, and positioned myself next to him. I grabbed him firmly by the hair on the back of his neck and forced him to look at me.

- Someone I love is suffering because of that pig, not to mention all the lives of innocent kids he must have ruined. I want that guy off the streets and I want him now! We can do it near the law or my way. And you already know which one is.

He lowe...