Nobody noticed that in the old Ballesteros house there were now two flickering lights flitting like ghosts in the darkness.
The next day, Monday, it was the house of the widower Ernesto Evangelista that would invite the screaming sirens of the police. It would be the first instance in the bewildering case that another child, who was not involved in any way that day with Paolo and Conchitina, would skewer in a strange twist in the developing story. “This is not good,” the police captain finally acknowledged, but all he could do was scratch his head.
Mr. Evangelista’s fifteen-year-old daughter Megan had gone to take a shower that Monday morning, and two hours later, when he still heard sprinkling of water, Megan’s shower seemingly without end, he said he had knocked on the door, and opened
