It was one thing to question the neighbors, people I didn't see every day and whose opinions didn't really concern me. But this was my boss, someone with the authority to punish me if he didn't like what I said, and enough power to send me to patrol the mountains for an entire month.
Of course, that didn't mean Taboada would react that way. By now, I knew him well enough to understand that while he could have his outbursts when he got angry, he rarely imposed an unjust punishment.
"Are you going to say whatever it is you have to say so we can move on with the paperwork for the day without you being lost in your thoughts for the rest of the day?" Taboada asked, startling me.
Maybe I had been too absorbed at my desk because, even though the lieutenant didn't raise his voice or ask the question reproachfully, he still made me jump.
"Are you sure you're feeling okay?" he insisted, not giving me a chance to respond. "If you need some time, I can give you the day off. I know it's been a tough week and we all need a break."
"It won't be necessary, but thank you," I replied immediately, almost reflexively.
Though the idea of a vacation sounded great right now, I was aware I’d spend those days pacing back and forth instead of actually resting. And if I were to do the same patrol on a day off as on a workday, I’d almost prefer doing it while getting paid.
Not that I'd spend the money at this rate, if the Saint succeeded in making me die, but dreaming was free.
"Actually, I ran into Sabino yesterday," I continued, now free of inhibition, though not completely fearless. "And he mentioned that about a month ago, he saw you and Joaquín talking about some plots of land. And, well, I was wondering if..."
If you'd want to or could talk about it. Taboada looked at me as if I had just pulled an impossible trick out of my sleeve.
"How the hell did Sabino know...?"
"He was passing by. He said he was going to say hello, but when he heard you arguing, he decided not to intervene."
"Of course, how could I forget? The neighborhood is always so attentive, especially when it comes to meddling in other people's affairs."
"I don't think that's entirely fair," I murmured, because while it had been a lucky coincidence that Sabino remembered the incident, if he really wanted to cause trouble with his neighbors, he could have mentioned the argument from a month ago, when it happened.
"And I suppose now you want me to tell you what happened that day, to check my alibi." It wasn't a question, but a statement; the lieutenant was already in a bad mood, but he didn’t seem unwilling to cooperate, as before I could confirm or deny, he continued: "Fine, yes, I had a property dispute with Joaquín. Nothing particularly important at first: I have an apple tree on a certain plot, and it seems his kids got into the habit of stealing my apples every now and then. I wouldn't mind if they just took the ones on the branches that border their father's property, but those kids take the entire tree every time they can. So I warned Joaquín to say something to them, and he agreed with me... But what do I find the next day? Someone has moved the boundary markers, and now the apple tree is on his side. Obviously, I got angry, and that was the argument Sabino must have seen."
"But if Joaquín agreed with you, why would he need to move the markers?"
"That's what he told me, then he got even angrier when I suggested it might have been the kids." The lieutenant sighed, clearly not expecting to have to talk about this again. "Anyway, the fact is, once I discovered the trick and put the markers back in place, it all ended. I never got an apology for having moved them, but Joaquín did make sure his kids apologized for stealing my apples... And I decided to let the whole thing die there, since no one touched the damn tree or the boundaries again."
"Maybe... it could have been someone else who moved the marker?"
"Who else could it have been but Joaquín or one of his close relatives? The property next to mine is his, taking ten or fifteen meters of land wouldn't benefit anyone else."
That was a valid observation. Not to mention that, in these lands, it was unfortunately quite common to steal a few meters of land from the neighbors, whether to enlarge a garden, get more shade on one's own property, or, as seemed to be the case here, to have a fruit tree on their side.
It was too brazen to move the markers at this point, so soon after the conflict with Taboada. But one also had to consider that, in many of these fields, the boundary could easily be just a single stone placed at a strategic point.
In other words, although only Joaquín and his people might have had a real motive, anyone could have taken that stone and moved it a few meters further.
"Would you mind if I stopped by to take a look at your property later, when I do the patrol?" I asked cautiously; I was going to pass by there anyway, but it was always better to have the owner's permission.
Taboada looked at me with curiosity.
"Do you think the property has something to do with... what exactly?"
"With nothing, I suppose. I was just curious to see the land. Did you say they tried to take ten meters from you?"
And also to see if it would be worth risking getting into trouble with Taboada over an apple tree... But well, no need to say everything. The lieutenant already had a sense of it, and, as reluctant as anyone to be considered suspicious of whatever he thought he might be under scrutiny for, he concluded:
"As long as you don't touch anything, you can look at whatever you want."
I agreed to the arrangement and decided not to tempt fate any further. Anyway, I had no intention of moving anything; on the contrary, what interested me was to make sure everything stayed the same and no one had moved the markers again.
If you'd want to or could talk about it. Taboada looked at me as if I had just pulled an impossible trick out of my sleeve.
"How the hell did Sabino know...?"
"He was passing by. He said he was going to say hello, but when he heard you arguing, he decided not to intervene."
"Of course, how could I forget? The neighborhood is always so attentive, especially when it comes to meddling in other people's affairs."
"I don't think that's entirely fair," I murmured, because while it had been a lucky coincidence that Sabino remembered the incident, if he really wanted to cause trouble with his neighbors, he could have mentioned the argument from a month ago, when it happened.
"And I suppose now you want me to tell you what happened that day, to check my alibi." It wasn't a question, but a statement; the lieutenant was already in a bad mood, but he didn’t seem unwilling to cooperate, as before I could confirm or deny, he continued: "Fine, yes, I had a property dispute with Joaquín. Nothing particularly important at first: I have an apple tree on a certain plot, and it seems his kids got into the habit of stealing my apples every now and then. I wouldn't mind if they just took the ones on the branches that border their father's property, but those kids take the entire tree every time they can. So I warned Joaquín to say something to them, and he agreed with me... But what do I find the next day? Someone has moved the boundary markers, and now the apple tree is on his side. Obviously, I got angry, and that was the argument Sabino must have seen."
"But if Joaquín agreed with you, why would he need to move the markers?"
"That's what he told me, then he got even angrier when I suggested it might have been the kids." The lieutenant sighed, clearly not expecting to have to talk about this again. "Anyway, the fact is, once I discovered the trick and put the markers back in place, it all ended. I never got an apology for having moved them, but Joaquín did make sure his kids apologized for stealing my apples... And I decided to let the whole thing die there, since no one touched the damn tree or the boundaries again."
"Maybe... it could have been someone else who moved the marker?"
"Who else could it have been but Joaquín or one of his close relatives? The property next to mine is his, taking ten or fifteen meters of land wouldn't benefit anyone else."
That was a valid observation. Not to mention that, in these lands, it was unfortunately quite common to steal a few meters of land from the neighbors, whether to enlarge a garden, get more shade on one's own property, or, as seemed to be the case here, to have a fruit tree on their side.
It was too brazen to move the markers at this point, so soon after the conflict with Taboada. But one also had to consider that, in many of these fields, the boundary could easily be just a single stone placed at a strategic point.
In other words, although only Joaquín and his people might have had a real motive, anyone could have taken that stone and moved it a few meters further.
"Would you mind if I stopped by to take a look at your property later, when I do the patrol?" I asked cautiously; I was going to pass by there anyway, but it was always better to have the owner's permission.
Taboada looked at me with curiosity.
"Do you think the property has something to do with... what exactly?"
"With nothing, I suppose. I was just curious to see the land. Did you say they tried to take ten meters from you?"
And also to see if it would be worth risking getting into trouble with Taboada over an apple tree... But well, no need to say everything. The lieutenant already had a sense of it, and, as reluctant as anyone to be considered suspicious of whatever he thought he might be under scrutiny for, he concluded:
"As long as you don't touch anything, you can look at whatever you want."
I agreed to the arrangement and decided not to tempt fate any further. Anyway, I had no intention of moving anything; on the contrary, what interested me was to make sure everything stayed the same and no one had moved the markers again.
As soon as I finished the necessary reports I had to complete at the station, I went out into the streets with the goal of getting closer to Joaquín’s home. A task, by the way, that I omitted to mention to the lieutenant, as I imagined he wouldn't be as permissive about this as he was with his property: He had already spoken to the widow, and with nothing new to add to the investigation, I didn’t think he’d approve of bothering her for another round of intrusive questions.
But I didn’t have time and was running out of options, so I’d apologize later, if that ended up being necessary.
For now, I took the opportunity to pass by the lieutenant’s land, specifically where the disputed apple tree stood, since it was on my way to the other village. Once there, I confirmed that, based on Taboada’s description, the stone that served as the boundary between the two properties had indeed returned to its original position: No one had touched it since my boss had placed it back.
The tree was a mere two meters from the boundary, and several of its branches extended into the neighboring plot. Now the question was, what benefit would there be for Joaquín or any of his relatives to move that marker? Specifically, why move it ten or fifteen meters when just two meters would have been enough to get the apple tree on their side?
Maybe it was pure greed. It wasn’t uncommon to think that taking a couple of meters would be enough, and then, once in place, think it would be better to take five more for some other purpose — whether to acquire another tree or expand their land to get a building permit — and so on, until someone put an end to it the hard way or the matter was forgotten.
But this wouldn't be forgotten. It couldn’t be.
After checking the boundary markers, I took a short walk along the boundary between the two properties, merely observing the landscape. There wasn’t much to see nor a long stretch to walk, since both plots were small, and together they wouldn’t even make up a third of a football field.
Neither Joaquín’s family nor Taboada were using these fields for anything significant. There were no orchards nor was it grazing land. The grass was well-maintained on both sides, yes, but aside from that apple tree and a few misplaced rocks, there was nothing of interest at the boundary.
While the Herreros were also involved in agriculture and livestock, their operations were located elsewhere. Taking a few more meters of land, aside from being brazen, wouldn't have served that purpose.
More convinced now that it must have been a child’s game to get a few extra apples in their pantry, I finally made my way to the deceased’s home.
No one was home when I arrived, with the younger children being at school and the eldest having taken the livestock out. Jimena, Herrero’s wife, however, wasn’t too far from the property: I found her about twenty or thirty meters away, feeding her chickens.
She was kind and cordial when I introduced myself, likely thinking that the only reason for my visit was to check on how she was doing. After all, it was Taboada who was in charge of the investigation into her husband’s death. He was the one who, after discovering the body, had personally questioned her about it.
As for me, the only time I had been seen interacting with Joaquín’s family and friends had been in the days following his death when the funeral had to be arranged. So, I could be a police officer and wear my uniform all I wanted, but no one would really take me seriously until some real and imminent problem arose or, as in this case, I myself brought up the topic of possible homicide in conversation.
That was when people remembered that, despite my calm demeanor, I wasn’t necessarily speaking as a neighbor but as a police officer on an official matter.
Jimena, who had initially been happy to see me, immediately became defensive when I mentioned I wanted to ask her a few more questions about her late husband.
"I don't see what else I need to tell you, I already told Taboada everything I knew," She said, somewhat curtly.
When she saw me, she had offered to let me come inside for coffee and a brief chat before I continued my patrol and after she finished feeding her animals. But I had the feeling that now, after revealing the true reason for my visit, access to the property would be denied until further notice.
But I didn’t have time and was running out of options, so I’d apologize later, if that ended up being necessary.
For now, I took the opportunity to pass by the lieutenant’s land, specifically where the disputed apple tree stood, since it was on my way to the other village. Once there, I confirmed that, based on Taboada’s description, the stone that served as the boundary between the two properties had indeed returned to its original position: No one had touched it since my boss had placed it back.
The tree was a mere two meters from the boundary, and several of its branches extended into the neighboring plot. Now the question was, what benefit would there be for Joaquín or any of his relatives to move that marker? Specifically, why move it ten or fifteen meters when just two meters would have been enough to get the apple tree on their side?
Maybe it was pure greed. It wasn’t uncommon to think that taking a couple of meters would be enough, and then, once in place, think it would be better to take five more for some other purpose — whether to acquire another tree or expand their land to get a building permit — and so on, until someone put an end to it the hard way or the matter was forgotten.
But this wouldn't be forgotten. It couldn’t be.
After checking the boundary markers, I took a short walk along the boundary between the two properties, merely observing the landscape. There wasn’t much to see nor a long stretch to walk, since both plots were small, and together they wouldn’t even make up a third of a football field.
Neither Joaquín’s family nor Taboada were using these fields for anything significant. There were no orchards nor was it grazing land. The grass was well-maintained on both sides, yes, but aside from that apple tree and a few misplaced rocks, there was nothing of interest at the boundary.
While the Herreros were also involved in agriculture and livestock, their operations were located elsewhere. Taking a few more meters of land, aside from being brazen, wouldn't have served that purpose.
More convinced now that it must have been a child’s game to get a few extra apples in their pantry, I finally made my way to the deceased’s home.
No one was home when I arrived, with the younger children being at school and the eldest having taken the livestock out. Jimena, Herrero’s wife, however, wasn’t too far from the property: I found her about twenty or thirty meters away, feeding her chickens.
She was kind and cordial when I introduced myself, likely thinking that the only reason for my visit was to check on how she was doing. After all, it was Taboada who was in charge of the investigation into her husband’s death. He was the one who, after discovering the body, had personally questioned her about it.
As for me, the only time I had been seen interacting with Joaquín’s family and friends had been in the days following his death when the funeral had to be arranged. So, I could be a police officer and wear my uniform all I wanted, but no one would really take me seriously until some real and imminent problem arose or, as in this case, I myself brought up the topic of possible homicide in conversation.
That was when people remembered that, despite my calm demeanor, I wasn’t necessarily speaking as a neighbor but as a police officer on an official matter.
Jimena, who had initially been happy to see me, immediately became defensive when I mentioned I wanted to ask her a few more questions about her late husband.
"I don't see what else I need to tell you, I already told Taboada everything I knew," She said, somewhat curtly.
When she saw me, she had offered to let me come inside for coffee and a brief chat before I continued my patrol and after she finished feeding her animals. But I had the feeling that now, after revealing the true reason for my visit, access to the property would be denied until further notice.
![Chapter 11 [Part 1]](https://us-a.tapas.io/sa/3d/9061ed72-5c5f-4314-9f20-f06d4f31963d.jpg)
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