Up until then, the questions had focused on whether the victim had any enemies or if he had been behaving differently in the last few days. And with 'differently,' given the violent way his body had been found, it was highly likely that the neighbors assumed the issue was along the lines of, "Was Joaquín angry with anyone or depressed?" No one wanted to stick their neck out about it.

When the lieutenant asked, even though the widow had mentioned that Joaquín had seemed tired in the last few days, it seemed unlikely that he would have connected it with the Santa Compaña.

In truth, I would have given any other explanation for this if I hadn’t found myself caught up in the whole mess: Our victim was a busy person, after all. Knowing that he was a little more subdued than usual wasn’t necessarily alarming until one considered the whole series of events leading up to his death.

And on the other hand, wouldn’t it be beneficial for my superior to disregard certain facts? That is, assuming they had something to do with the death.

"I need to talk to Taboada," I finally stated, remembering the altercation he had with Joaquín. "I think the biggest problem with this whole thing is that we have too many fronts open, and that’s why we’re getting overwhelmed. On one side, there’s the issue with the Santa, whatever she did to me. And on the other side, there’s what happened to Joaquín. We should focus on one thing."

"I hope that means we’re going to leave the incidents at the Ribera aside for two days and focus on your problem," Leandro remarked, noticing my sudden silence. I could see a spark of anger in his eyes when he raised his voice slightly to say, "I’m not going to sit idly by while you waste away. I know Joaquín’s case is important, and I’m not opposed to investigating it, but please, the dead can wait! It’s the living we should attend to first."

I couldn’t argue with that, especially when Leandro had been the only one I’d confided my problems to, and despite knowing the storm clouds hanging over me, he continued to support me.

Moreover, he was right. What did it matter if I had a hunch that the Santa might be involved in a potential crime? Solving some of the mysteries around Joaquín wasn’t going to guarantee that I’d get out of this alive. So, I tried to remember what I had read the night before to temporarily calm my friend while we decided on a course of action:

"About that," I began calmly, as at least one of us needed to keep a clear head, "and considering what I’ve read in the book Don Aurelio left me, I see three possible options. The first, which I have absolutely no guarantee of, would be to lock myself in a circle of salt as soon as night falls. I know the Santa can’t enter that circle, but I’m not so sure it can stop the curse or prevent me from leaving the circle during my trance."

"We could try it anyway. If, for example, you’re tied to a tree and that tree is within the salt circle you’ve drawn, I’d like to see any supernatural entity try to pull you out of there."

"That might work in the sense that it would prevent me from joining the procession that night, but would it be enough to break the curse? It’s a good idea, but it doesn’t guarantee that the Santa won’t come back for me… or that she won’t just ignore the circle and find a way to get me out anyway."

"What was the next suggestion?"

"Just like many other people did (mostly unwittingly), find a scapegoat. Someone who’s in the wrong place at the wrong time when the procession passes by."

"And then you would pass the cross to them, freeing yourself from the curse," Leandro completed. "I like it, it’s as amoral as it gets. But really, who thinks about ethics when it’s about saving your own skin?"

"I think about it," I replied, though I immediately added, "but I won’t tell you that my strong will to do what I think is right goes so far as to not want to trade my life for someone else’s if the situation is extreme."

"What’s the third option?"

"The third would be to seek help from a professional, someone who’s used to dealing with these types of phenomena and who would be willing to offer advice without needing us to write a thesis about everything I’ve experienced."

"Someone like a priest, for example?"

"No. Or at least not if it’s Don Aurelio. I’ve already tried him, and it doesn’t seem like he’ll be much help."

"Don Aurelio is too pragmatic to seriously study these topics that border on the occult. To be honest, I wouldn’t expect much cooperation from him either, in that case." After thinking for a moment, he suggested, "What if I ask my grandmother if she knows anyone? I think she once mentioned a woman who fancied herself a medium, or a witch, or something…"

"There’s not much time, so any addition to the cause is welcome," I said, trying to sound hopeful. I had never trusted people who dealt with the supernatural, and I wasn’t even convinced that their supposed powers were real, but at this point, everything had to be tried before being ruled out. "Ask whoever you need to ask, and we’ll meet up again this afternoon to plan. There’s no shortage of time for me to think about all of this during my shift."