Someone was making a dreadful racket outside. Weren't the students in the place opposite meant to have gone home, Cristina thought. She looked at the time - 01:05. There had been much more noise recently. The other day, she had heard a heavy thumping from downstairs. There was also a faint smell of manure; who knew where that was from? And that guy living opposite her with his parties and suspicious substances. He rarely greeted her either. Young people had no manners.

She looked out the window and saw that policewoman standing in the communal garden with some guy, they were holding a rope. What was she up to this late? She hadn't seen her much recently. The police were all useless anyway. In her day people hadn't needed to lock or even shut their doors when they went out.

The policewoman was saying something she couldn't hear. She was facing indoors and holding something in her hand. Cristina watched incredulously as the lights in the garden illuminated the scene and she saw a pair of horns emerge.

'Oh, he's very timid, aren't you, toro,' the policewoman said. Cristina stood stunned. What on earth was she doing, keeping a bull in the middle of a residential street? Couldn't he break her wall down with his horns? He'd cause some serious damage.

'It's OK, come on.' The bull walked out very slowly from directly underneath her window. They'd tied him to something in the house. Cristina noticed a large bandage on his back.

Oh.

Everyone had been talking about it in the pharmacy today, as it had happened so close by. Cristina didn't care for corridas and the way the matadors strutted round in pink tights and a silly costume. People who liked it said it wasn't a sport, but in Cristina's opinion it was, and she had never understood sports in general. When Spain had won the World Cup that time, she had just gone to bed irritated at all the noise.

But this? What did these two think they were doing? And her a policewoman as well.

She shut the blinds quickly, too stunned to speak.

She had seen something on TV about a 2 million Euro reward for the bull. Cristina couldn't imagine that amount of money. She couldn't think what she would spend it on.

Maybe a nice posh house in the countryside with better neighbours. These days she didn't go out except to do her shopping, there were too many dodgy types on the streets, and she was starting to have trouble getting up and down the stairs. Or go on a cruise round the world, she had always wanted to do that. Maybe if she had that amount of money her grandchildren would visit her more often. This place had gone downhill since she had moved in, it wasn't what it used to be. Maybe that was why they didn't want to come round.

The helpline wouldn't be open until the morning, she guessed. She had a quick peek out the window again, unable to resist confirming what she had seen.

'Come on. That's right,' the policewoman was saying as the bull disappeared indoors.

****

‘I can’t wait to see you again.’ Rita grinned to herself as she read Alfonso’s message the next day. Words couldn’t describe how she felt. Without Pepelito around, she sensed it could have gone much further than kissing.

After that kiss, they’d gone into the living room and tied one end of the rope tightly round an arm of Rita’s heavy sofa. Rita had given Pepelito a carrot while Alfonso put on the halter, then opened the back door. Overjoyed to be outside, Pepelito had tried to give himself a scratch on a tree, partially dislodging his bandage. In obvious discomfort, he hadn’t needed much encouragement to go back inside, where Alfonso had checked him over and replaced the dressing. He’d said his goodbyes after that, and kissed her again on the doorstep.

'Likewise,' she wrote.

Within a minute he wrote back. 'I'd love to take you out on a proper date where it's just us two if you know what I mean 😏'

'Can't wait, LOL,' Rita wrote back as she fired up her computer. Smiling to herself, she put the phone in the drawer and turned on her police one. The chocolate cake she had hurriedly bought from the supermarket this morning was already in a fridge in the station's kitchen. Hopefully her own fridge was still in a usable state, now there was an armchair blocking the kitchen door.

'Inspectora Silvera. Here are the files for the Caroline McKenzie case you asked for.' Abdul Mansouri, one of the younger recruits, came and deposited them on her desk.

'Thanks, Abdul,' she said. Dominguez wasn't here yet and it wasn't like him to be late. She sent him a message asking where he was, and waited. There was no response. He'd left a drunken message on her answerphone last night. Breaking up with Luis had hit him hard; they’d been together a long time.

Then she saw her phone was ringing from a withheld number. 'Buenos dias?'

'Am I speaking to Rita Silvera?' came a woman's voice on the other line. Her voice was shaky and very quiet. It was only when several dogs barked in the background that she recognised it.

'Raquel?'

'There's something important I need to tell you. It's about Caroline.'

*

'Yeah, so, um, you know when I said Caroline didn't get in arguments online,' Raquel Carlos said as they sat in a small interview room. Her hands were trembling. She looked much younger than she was, with her pale pink tracksuit and pink coat that looked like a dressing gown. Abdul Mansouri sat beside her taking notes. He didn't drink coffee and was usually partial to energy drinks, but as it was Ramadan, he had nothing in front of him.

'I didn't tell you before because I was scared of getting in trouble.' She swallowed almost the whole glass of water and spilt the rest on the table. Rita noticed the dog hairs on the woman’s fluffy jumper.

'We were in this group, me and her, that was about exposing people who were cruel to animals. Everywhere in the world, but mostly in the UK and Spain. We’d do things like report them to Facebook and try and find out where they worked, we’d message their Facebook friends and tell them what they were doing. Caroline actually hacked  their accounts and posted their messages online. Anonymously, so they didn't know it was her.' Raquel laughed nervously and chewed on her nails like an awkward teenager.

'So, harassment in other words. If you thought any of these people had committed a crime, why didn't you tell the police?' Mansouri asked coolly, bridging his hands on the table. Rita couldn't argue, but she felt more sympathetic to Raquel today, seeing in her a vulnerable, naive woman, who had got mixed up in something she shouldn't. Which sounded familiar, she thought with a chill down her spine. It sounded like something Alfonso's wife Pilar would have been into. Did he know anything about this group?

'The police? Ha. You lot aren't interested are you, and most of what they do isn't even illegal,' Raquel scoffed. Her statements were more true than Rita wanted to admit. It wasn't like the toreros who had reduced Pepelito to a bloody pincushion in her hallway were going to spend any time inside any time soon.

'I assure you, we would if we had the evidence,' Mansouri said defensively before Rita silenced him with a look. He had only joined six months ago. Not enough time to have the idealism knocked out.

'We weren’t just, like, randomly harassing. There was a video of this guy beating his dog in Edinburgh, right. Just down the road from Caroline. He was a teacher, and we got him fired from his school.' This was the first time Raquel had made eye contact. The utter hatred she spoke of this man broke down the shell around her.

'Do you remember his name?' Rita said, filled with unease. Raquel shrugged.

'I don't, sorry. Mac something.'

'Do you think he could have followed her here on holiday?' Rita said. Raquel shook her head decisively.

'No. No, he's in jail, Caroline told me and we were going to celebrate.' Her eyes went wide at the thought of prison.

'Will I go to jail?' Raquel said anxiously.

'Based on what you've told us, no, but I'd advise you to speak to an attorney,' Rita said. There was more to it, though, wasn't there?

There always was.

'What would happen to all the dogs I look after?' A good question.

'Don't worry about that now. We're not charging you with anything,' Rita said. They might have to; what the victim herself had apparently done carried a sentence of 2 years, possibly up to 6. She didn't feel good about this.

Raquel wouldn't cope inside.

'How can I not worry,' Raquel said looking down, in a miserable voice.

'Is there anyone else who you can think of who could have wanted to hurt Caroline?' Rita sipped the coffee she'd made in the machine, the first time she had touched it that morning. She wasn’t really enjoying it.

'Yeah, yeah there is,' Raquel whispered, twisting a strand of hair around with her fingers. 'But you won't believe me. You lot never do when it's someone famous.'

'Go on,' Rita said. Her phone vibrated with a message from Dominguez, an hour after her partner was meant to be at work. She ignored it and leant forward to listen.

‘Like, that matador? You know my sister actually saw that bull run off? She lives opposite and saw it run past with all that stuff sticking out of it.' Raquel's big blue eyes stared like a baby's at the two officers, and despite herself, Rita was flooded with protectiveness. Her thirst was gone; now she didn’t trust herself to keep anything down.

He was absolutely capable of murder.

'Castella?' Mansouri said.

Raquel nodded. 'Yeah. Him.'