The Fourth Flash Drive

By Esteban Navarro Soriano

Teresa, a cleaning lady from the Huesca police office, gives his son a USB drive she bought online.

Her son, Alejandro, gets upset when he finds out his mother’s gift it’s not new, and it contains a hidden folder that the previous owner didn’t delete. The folder is protected with a password.

The mother, after her son’s complaints, decides to return it. She looks for the receipt and travels to Zaragoza to give it to the seller, since she wants to complain that she paid the price of something new, for something used.

That same afternoon, the police find the dead body of the seller inside his store. Teresa, and her son suspect that he was murdered because of the hidden folder from the flash drive

• Language: English
• Publisher: BadPress
• Release date: Nov 9, 2023
• ISBN: 9781667465647

Book preview

Chapter 1

Friday, September 6th 2019

There isn’t more deluded and fanatic passion than hate.

George Gordon

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Ramiro was wishing the worst week of his life to come to an end. He couldn’t take it anymore and needed to escape, even if it was for a couple hours. Run away from that craziness.

Saturday September 7th, just the way he had planned it, he’d pick up his wife and daughter and would spend the weekend at Jaca. Fresh and clean air, good appetizers and peace, that’s what everyone needed. Sunday afternoon, when they’d come back, they’d had recharged their moral battery and could strongly confront what is their new reality after that fateful accident.

During the last week, each day he had received different news. On monday, his lawyer called and told him they would finally go to trial for accident over at Bilbao street. Apparently, the woman’s family wanted to carry on with the accusation, because they were denying it had been an accident.

Trial? he anxiously asked.

Yes, but don’t worry, they have nothing to do. The attorney calmed him down.

He didn’t have any money to afford an expensive lawyer, but an office coworker told him that if he accepted a public defender, he would be convicted.

I don’t know how the fuck they do it, but getting a public defender will get you will be found guilty. He assured.

Alfonsina, the girl he accompanied with his car to Almudévar, denied that Ramiro had taken her home. She was married and was scared her husband suspected she cheated on him.

She lies! Ramiro assured.

Yes, it’s normal for lots of people to lie when there’s a crime The man said. Whether it’s fear, distrust or indecision.

I’ll call her and talk to her. Ramiro insisted.

Don’t do it! She could feel coerced and declared she felt pressured by you. Let things flow. He advised Stop adding fuel to the fire.

On Tuesday, Alfonsina changed her police declaration and said that Ramiro was right and they were both together until 6:00 a.m., when he dropped her off at her block.

On Wednesday, when he got to his apartment after leaving his office, someone had left a really weird envelope in his mailbox. In the back of it it was written with capital letters: RAMIRO. On the inside there was a paper with a question: ‘Where is the cellphone?’

Everything alright? Agnes asked from the kitchen door.

Yeah. Yeah. Just a bit tired with the accident stuff.

Ramiro went to the bathroom and observed the envelope and the note in detail. His name was written in capital letters with a pen. The envelope was sealed with glue, because he had to rip it off to open it. And the note was similar to the ones used in wedding invitations, and it had written a question he knew he had to answer eventually.

Are you alright? His wife asked from the living room.

Yeah. Yeah. He replied altered.

Okay, let’s go. Food is waiting.

Ramiro didn’t say anything about the envelope, they were going through a lot to add more worries. He shredded it and threw it in the toilet, flushing many times to make sure it disappeared. Whoever left that note, was wanting to unsettle him and make him feel guilty about that woman. Who the fuck would send an envelope with his name on it with a question only he could answer? Maybe it was someone who knew he took the cellphone after the accident. But it wasn’t his intention. While he was waiting for the emergency services to arrive, he took the purse that was laying in the middle of the street when he hit that woman with the hood of his car. He left it on the seat of his passenger seat, and when he gave the purse to the police, the phone was left there. When he saw it, he thought about getting rid of it. But since he didn't know what to do, he decided to take it home with him. He was afraid that, days after the accident and with a threat of a complaint from the woman's family, the police would suspect that he was hiding something. He was sure that his worst mistake was getting rid of that cellphone. He opened it. Took the SIM card and the memory card. He cut them with some scissors in irrecoverable pieces and spread them in different dumpsters across the city. He even threw some away in the toilet. But that note must have been written by someone that saw when he put that woman's purse in his car, or someone that was looking for the phone, and since they didn't find it, they suspected he must have kept it.

On Thursday his lawyer called him again and told him that there was not going to be a trial. Apparently the local and national police’s report determined there wasn’t negligence. That woman, just the way he said it from the beginning, jaywalked. He couldn’t avoid running her over. The woman’s family withdrew the lawsuit and Ramiro could finally breathe.

Who made me go out at night? He asked himself when the police were asking for a statement. On August 24th, he and his coworkers went out. Vacations was almost over and they would go back to the office on September 2nd, so Luisa, who works in accounting, suggested that they could all hang out together and gave them a call.

Dinner? Ramiro asked Of course Luisa, I’d love a crazy night

The fourteen of them, including the boring guy from international sales, met at Mártires Street before going to Cabaré Plata where they enjoyed a night full of laughter. They had dinner right there before the show. And then, about 1:30 a.m., they went to Rock and Blues, where they drank until they were kicked out at 4:00 a.m. Ramiro only drank two coke and rums with lemon, so by 7:00a.m when the police checked his BAC after the accident, he was all clean.

One of the girls from his office, Alfonsina, lived in Almudévar and said that she had to take a taxi to get to the bus stop. It was Ramiro who, gentlemanly,  offered to drive her home.

To Almudévar? Alfonsina asked, not believing he would drive for forty five minutes to her town.

Manuel, the IT guy, grinned while glancing at both of them

Alright! Alright! he said Looks like these two want to have a happy ending!

You’re very stupid Luisa said when she saw Alfonsina and Ramiro’s puzzled faces.

***

Why the hell did you have to take the car, Ramiro? Agnes questioned when she got to the apartment on Sunday noon and he told her what had happened.

I don’t know. That was his answer Alfonsina had to get a taxi and I couldn’t think of another option but to drive her to Almudévar. And when I was coming back, that woman walked in front of the car in the middle of the street and I couldn’t dodge her.

He started crying in her arms.

Agnes looked at him not fully believing what he said. Ramiro had just turned forty, and Alfonsina, who she knew, was only twenty eight. She was an attractive woman. That, and the night out probably influenced her husband to have done something with that girl. And he came back tired of the driving, the night, the alcohol, the party and maybe something else.

I swear it’s true. He said while grabbing his wife by her wrists Nothing happened with Alfonsina.

And she believed him.

***

Friday afternoon he packed his suitcase as if he was traveling to the end of the world. He put away some of his clothes and told Agnes that he had called the hotel in Jaca and told them they would get there that same night.

Weren’t we leaving tomorrow morning? His wife asked through the phone It’s only an hour and a half drive to Jaca. We don’t need to get there at night.

Yes, woman. This way we can have dinner over there. I’d love to.

Agnes, who lived with her husband during those two weeks after the accident, didn’t object to the idea

Okay. I’ll pick her up at seven from her music class and we’ll go. She said thinking of her daughter.

When he was finishing packing, the intercom rang only once. Ramiro knew his wife always used her keys, and that the mailman goes during the morning. He left the room and unlocked the gate without questioning.

When he finally finished packing, he grabbed his car keys, wallet, and left it all on top of some drawers close to the door. When Agnes and their daughter came, they would quickly leave to Jaca. He used his phone to call 19 tapas y 500 vinos and made a reservation for three people at 10:00p.m. The restaurant, they’ve already been to, confirmed the reservation.

Have a nice trip Mr. Ramiro. The voice on the other side of the line said.

The doorbell rang only once. Ramiro thought it was the same person that rang the gate’s intercom four minutes ago. Maybe it was Agnes, who forgot her keys. Or maybe she was so busy with their daughter that didn’t want to look for them in her purse, and since she knew he was home, decided to ring the doorbell. Maybe it was a seller wanting to convince him to purchase something.

He opened the door unwillingly, without looking through the peephole.

Chapter 2

Saturday, November 16th 2019

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When they face desperation, human beings become animals.

Dan Brown.

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All Saturday afternoon, he walked around the streets of downtown Zaragoza. He paid attention to the groups of young ladies wandering on Paseo de la Independencia. He watched the girls leaving a perfume shop with bags hanging from their shoulders. At the smoke shop, there was also a group of girls dressed younger than they really were. They weren’t even old enough to smoke, but they were still buying cigarettes and opening them at the door, as if they couldn’t wait to put a cigarette on their purplish lips. There was a lonely teenager with sad eyes, looking at other lonely teenagers with haughty eyes walking happily on the streets between Corte Inglés and Plaza de España, sharing looks with young guys they walked past. Youth is an instant that passes by in front of a showcase, while the world stops to admire a beauty they think it’s eternal.

He focused his attention on the girl's legs. Most of them, covered by tights to protect them from the cold. Some were wearing winter ones, halfway up, letting a summer tan show. Some were dressed with skin color tights and tall boots, making their legs look long and skinny.

For a couple minutes he was following a beautiful girl with a very short satin like dress, who was replaced by a blonde one with braided hair wearing a knitted green dress.

He discarded everyone that was wearing pants, even if they were tight, but he paid close attention to the ones wearing skirts. Miniskirts, A-line, pencil, pleated, mermaid,circle or tube, none of them went unnoticed by that man.

It wasn’t until past 10:30 p.m., tired of walking around a dark Zaragoza, that he met Virginia. He didn’t know her name, until he read it in the newspaper the next day. At that time she was only a teenager walking with a frown, watery eyes and flicking her gloved hands.

Stupid arrogant. She whispered Who does he think he is to treat me like a whore? His mum’s a whore!

It was a tiny girl, seventeen years old, no taller than 5’1", purple makeup in her eyes, long and straight hair on a ponytail that fell on her back, and she was wearing a waist long cashmere coat. She had beautifully straight legs that finished in two beautiful red stiletto boots. The skin of the back of her legs looked as smooth as a dolphin’s.

He started walking behind her, keeping some distance for her not to suspect a thing but not too much not to lose sight of her. She kept walking, immersed in her own anger, while anxiously smoking, leaving a trail of gray smoke behind her back, like a train going uphill.

They got to the intersection of Plaza de la Justicia and Santa Isabel street. The clock on the closed flower shop on the corner was telling the time. It was 11:00 p.m. Virginia didn’t turn around, so she never noticed the man walking behind her. It was cold, which was normal for November. In the streets there was only one girl no older than twenty five walking a gray french bulldog. The dog got distracted with something and it couldn’t decide what to do. The owner, absent minded, scrolling through her phone, reached out her pocket to get a box of cigarettes. She took one out and lit it up with a lighter. A column of smoke got lost in the air that Saturday, November 16th 2019.

Virginia’s phone started ringing in the pocket of her coat. That afternoon, she had fought with a guy and then stood him up at Francisco Loscos street, when he tried to steal a kiss from her when she was trying to roll a blunt. Since that moment, she didn’t stop walking in between people, cursing the moment she decided to go out with him. She slowed down, took her phone out and looked at the screen emotionless. The man stopped a couple feet behind her, pretending to check the showcase of a closed gift shop. He kept looking at her out of the corner of his eye, pretending to be distracted. Her side profile reminded him of a famous singer, but couldn’t remember who. All those solo singers wanting to be famous looked pretty similar. They were skinny, obscenely young, sleek, and it looked like their faces had been carved with the same mold. Maybe the fact that they were just leaving adolescence behind and they’ve already been in an operating room, was influencing. He pondered about plastic surgeons and their lack of morals when it came to operating on very young girls. For him, imperfect beauty was the most beautiful of them all.

Virginia kept walking and stopped in front of a pharmacy with closed blinds. Between the door and a window there was a condom vending machine, he thought she was about to buy a box, but she only stared at her reflection on the glass. She stood there for an eternal minute. During all that time he admired her from behind a white truck parked a few feet away. Through the moon’s reflection he enjoyed himself with her beauty. There, in front of the pharmacy, there was no suffering, no bitterness, no fear of the unknown. It was just an angel standing in front of its reflection. That night, she would meet a friend and tell her about her fight with Maximo, and how she didn’t want to see him again. She would explain he was an asshole and that he only wanted to have sex, he didn’t care about the hairdressing classes she was taking, or the pageant she wanted to part of, nor that she was organizing a party in Barcelona, or the fact that she wanted to get enough money to get breast implants because she felt hers were too small. But everything that Virginia wanted, feared, what she was concerned about and even her plans, were nothing for that man who watched her in her lonely vulnerability.

The sound of a pizza delivery motorcycle crossed the silent street. The noise of the tires on the pavement was all one could hear. It turned right and the loneliness invaded the place again, right in front of the pharmacy.

The man left his hiding spot and stood in the middle of the street, under the dim light of a streetlamp.

Hey! He called her.

She looked up and examined him, as if it was a homeless man about to ask for some money.

What do you want, man?

Do you want to make some money? You don’t have to do anything bad. He kept talking while holding something that looked like a $100 bill.

When Virginia noticed that the man was wearing a ski mask, she didn’t even stop to answer and started running towards Alfonso street. That street was wider and it was going to be busier on a Saturday night. She needed to see people and blend in, so that man would forget about it and stop following her.

He ran after her. Maybe it hadn’t been a good idea to offer her money, but he had to try. And most importantly, he didn’t have time nor patience. It had been three weeks since he was in the look out for a teenage girl that fitted the description. Three restless weeks when he’d been walking around Zaragoza’s downtown. And for the first time, he had found her. She was perfect. Her legs. Her knees and the back of them. She was the girl and that was the moment. He wouldn’t lose her because of the stupid guilt he was feeling. He had decided what he had to do and it was the right thing.

There.

Was.

No.

Turning.

Back.

Virginia’s boots were not made for running, and that's why at the end of the alley, before Alfonso Street, he walked past her and strongly pushed her with his right hand. The girl tripped and fell on the street, hitting her head with the concrete curb. She partially lost her conscience, but it was long enough for the man to grab her by the shoulders and to take her to the dark alley, far from the sight of whoever walked there. Her body was facing down and her legs were shining thanks to the only lightbulb that was on the corner. The floor was covered by plastic bags and newspapers, disposed for someone to sleep right on top of them.

Fire! Fire! Fire! She started screaming.

Virginia remembered that a friend once told her that if someone tried to hurt her, she should scream the word ‘fire’. That’s a word that catches everyone’s attention. The fire makes people open their house’s windows. It makes people lean out. Makes them call the police. It makes someone walking by to stop. Fire is the biggest and better warning sign that one can use as an emergency. And at that moment she needed help.

Shut up! Shut up, please! I just want to take a picture. That’s all. I promise I’ll leave and I won’t hurt you He said putting his phone right in front of her eyes so she would calm down.

Go fuck yourself, you perv!

Virginia wasn’t listening, because she just wanted to run away. Her eyes were wide open when she noticed in the dark what the man was holding in his hand. It was a marker, but at first she thought it was a syringe because of its size. Scared, she turned and lifted her leg. Her kick was strong, but uncertain, since the heel of her shoe hit the aggressor’s left thigh, a bit far away from her target. The man’s phone fell down and the phone case came off. The marker he was holding on his right hand also fell down. The moment he took to pick his things up and put them in the pocket of his bomber jacket were enough for Virgina to crawl back to the middle of the alley. Her fingers were scratching the cobblestone and the heel of her shoes were pushing the floor and helping her move through the wet floor.

Don’t crawl, you’re going to hurt yourself he said after seeing the horrorized look in the girl's eyes.

She couldn’t understand how that deranged man could care if she hurt herself, when what he wanted to do was way worse.

The man’s trousers stained red right on his left thigh. Her kick caused the effect she was looking for and the aggressor had to stop and check if it was a serious injury.

A light in a window got turned on. A woman peeped out and yelled. What's going on in there?!

The man leaned over Virgina, who was still on the floor Shut up or I’ll hurt you. He said under his breath.

His expression had suddenly changed, and now he was furious, but the girl couldn’t see it in the dark.

The aggressor stood up, turned around and limped his way to the street corner. He looked to the left and went back to where she was. So he kneeled down and drew on her the letter ‘P’. It was a wake up call when she felt the touch on her leg, so she started screaming again.

Help! I need help!

Shut up! The man yelled.

And he hit her with his fist.

What the hell do you want, man? I don't have money.

Her eyes were wide open while she was trying to find a way to escape. The man hit her again and this time, her nose broke.

He looked behind her and saw the end of the alley. There were streets on both ends of it, and they were closer to the middle of it. If two police cars came, one on each side, he wouldn't be able to run away. And that late at night, on a Saturday night, the police wouldn't take too long to find them. He figured that the woman on the window had already called them.

He grabbed her by the hair and dragged her to a vestibule where the door was open. There was only a dim light thanks to the lamppost in the street. She could see dirty steps full of garbage. There were empty cans, food wraps and used condoms. He turned his hand on the girl’s ponytail and pulled her up until they were face to face.

You scream one more time and I’ll cut your neck he said while trying to get the knife out of his pocket.

Virginia moved her head and she recognized that vestibule because she walked past it when she was buying drugs with Maximo. She was sure that no one in that building was going to call the police. Her only hope was someone walking past by the alley who would hear her crying for help. What about the woman at the window? Why couldn't she hear her? She asked herself.

The man swayed the knife in front of her eyes so she could see it well. It was a butcher’s knife, around seven inches long.

She could have asked what he wanted. Ask why he followed her and why was he threatening her.

But him being a man, and she finding herself