Vergara held the ledger. He looked at the names inside—men he called colleagues, men he had shared meals with. He realized that killing Caramelo had been an attempt to bury the truth, but the truth was now shivering in his hands.
A struggle ensued—a desperate scramble in the dark. Shots rang out, echoing against the corrugated metal walls. When the sirens finally wailed in the distance, only one man remained standing. Matar A Caramelo Ramon Bassons Bana epub
The rain in Barcelona didn't wash away the sins of the Raval; it only made them slicker. Inspector Marc Vergara stood over the body of the man they called "Caramelo." The nickname was a cruel irony now. In life, he had been a sweet-talking informant with fingers in every illicit pie from the harbor to the hills of Montjuïc. In death, he was just a heap of expensive silk and cheap blood sprawled across a cobblestone alley. Vergara held the ledger