The Bookseller’s Murder
As he did every Monday, Daniel Donoso headed to shed 1 of the Bío-Bío flea market. Ever since he had retired as a detective of the PDI, after twenty years of service and at fifty-six years of age, crime novels had become his pastime. He fantasized about taking up writing and recounting some of his best cases. When he arrived, he was surprised to see police cars and to run into former colleagues. Despite his experience dealing with corpses almost daily, it’s different when the one who dies is someone you know. Beneath a blue plastic tarp lay Ricardo Concha, his longtime bookseller, with seven stab wounds in the chest. His former colleagues filled him in on the case. It wasn’t usual for them to talk with civilians, but the former detective Donoso was still known at the PDI for his record of solved cases and his unerring intuition. The crime had been committed at night, with no witnesses. Ricardo was always the last to leave the shed, since he tended to stay behind arranging books and reading. The prime suspect was Yanira, a Colombian woman who sold arepas. Yanira had won over the flea market’s crowd by means of Caribbean curves, charm and a good assortment of hot sauces. Ricardo and Yanira had been living together for some time and had been seen arguing on Sunday night. But something in his detective’s instinct made him suspicious. The crime scene wasn’t in disarray and it struck him as a more premeditated death than the result of a domestic fight. A murder didn’t square with the passionate but carefree image of Yanira, who had more suitors than she’d ever need to worry over romantic troubles. He wondered who would gain from Ricardo’s death. Other booksellers? No, clearly they hadn’t chosen the trade driven by money but by vocation. He’d watched them exchange books and recommendations, without competing for the clientele. Out of hunger and habit, Daniel walked toward Yanira’s stall. In its place, he found Mrs. Juanita’s sopaipilla cart, which was once again full of her old customers.