Two hours later the two men sat disconsolately in Tamayo"s office. They"d drawn a blank. Neither store owner had been able to offer any help.
Bernardo"s employer had been their first port of call. Felipe Gonzales, short of stature, thirty-something, going prematurely bald, though dressed in a bright multi-coloured floral shirt that gave him the appearance of a refugee from a seventies peace rally, could offer little in the way of help to the detectives.
“Sad as I am to have learned of poor Bernardo"s terrible death, I"m sure I can be of no help to you, Captain Tamayo. I paid the boy to sell books; nothing more, nothing less. He was a diligent employee, always punctual and very respectful to me and to the customers. Of course, I would have thought nothing of him being involved in conversa
