After dinner, Alba Longa soon retired to her room. He put the green package on the table and looked at it for a long time, untouched. Finally he pulled the ribbon and undid the bow. He unfolded the paper. Inside was a box the size of a shoe box, but much shallower. He lifted the lid. The interior contained a very well-bound manuscript made of embossed leather. The paper on the pages was cream-colored, of excellent quality. The text was written in black ink and the handwriting, without being an artistic prodigy, was not lacking in personality. Juan's real job had been a typographer in a printing press, so he wrote well, using periods and commas correctly. He also didn't make any spelling mistakes. In the end there were only two blank pages. The box also contained a pair of keys, taped to the bottom with insulating tape, probably so that they wouldn't make noise when the package was moved.
Alba went back to the beginning. The first lines ran as follows:
"Alba Longa. I don't know who would give you that nickname, but they gave it to you correctly. I, on the other hand, if you are reading these lines now, it means that I have passed on to a better life. At least I hope so, because if what the priests say about her is true, I will have to spend eternity submerged up to my neck in one of Pedro Botero's boilers. In any case, I promise that, if they allow me, I will return to tell you how things happen here. Before, however, I would like to talk to you about issues that are still there. These are details that, if I had told you when we met, you would have been unnecessarily compromised. However, at the present moment, that is, now that you are reading me, your knowledge may be useful to many people. Particularly for some people who are very dear to me, you will know, dear Alba Longa, that I was threatened with death, and there is no doubt about that. Well, at the time of writing to you, I don't know them. I'm going to let myself be surprised by the ingenuity of my executioners. You should also know that I did everything possible, which is no small thing, to thwart their plans, but I didn't succeed. The proof is that you are reading all these ramblings. Finally, you will also know the name and reasons of those who killed me, or at least gave the order for it to be done. certain people who count a lot to me, at the same time that you will be able to establish yourself as a formidable instrument of justice…. If a guy like me can talk about justice… Probably the most appropriate word is revenge. It is the same, I am sure that this word will not intimidate you. I ask it of you because the task is not without difficulty, but at the same time it fully falls within Alba Longa's competence.
This is how the first introductory page of the book of John read. Alba spent a good part of the night reading, meditating and even studying its entire contents. Then he went to consult everything with his pillow. It was not an easy task.
The one at dawn would be when he had made a decision. Then, calmer, he managed to sleep a good jog.
So he got up a little late. While he was eating breakfast he received a call from Miriam.
-Can you come this morning?
-Naturally. To the usual place?
-Yeah.
-What time seems good to you?
-Right now.
-Okay. I'm going there.
Along the way, he invented and chose the arguments he was going to give them in exchange for the truth about the contents of the package.
Upon entering under the arcades he immediately distinguished them, among many other people, since the place, deserted in the afternoons, was quite busy at mid-morning. They had both sat in the right direction to see him as soon as he entered the scene, as soon as he set foot in the area covered by their field of vision. They are impatient, Alba Longa considered, as she advanced towards them. They will be disappointed.
-How are you? Have you slept well? –he said, to say something; not exempt, by the way, from a slight load of irony, because if he had been in his place he would also have slept on hot coals, thinking about what the contents of the happy package could be.
As an answer, Miriam, surreptitiously, took out of her purse a clipper that was hanging by a thread.
-I found it this morning, hanging from the mirror.
Alba Longa fell stunned in her chair.
"To think that those guys have been just a few meters from our bed, while we were sleeping," Pepe commented, somewhat pale.
Alba was reflecting intensely.
-I suggest that you settle in Miriam's apartment tonight. That will slow them down. An operation like this, of a military nature, is studied before executing it. They must recognize the terrain before intervening. I don't think they will worry you any more during the next twenty-four hours.
"I have a revolver," Pepe announced. "Juan gave it to me."
-Excellent. Take turns sleeping. Do not be separated. Don't go near the windows.
-Tonight they may not come. But what about tomorrow? And past?
-One night. You just have to spend one night like this, Miriam. Tomorrow things will have changed a lot. Do you have to go back to Pepe's apartment?
-No. We carry the essentials with us.
-Perfect. Tomorrow, at ten o'clock, we'll meet here. Come with the car. You left it parked on that street –he pointed to the street perpendicular to the one they were in.- Okay?
"We don't see at all what you're getting at," said Miriam. "But if you say okay, okay."
-Calm down. Alert, but calm. Everything is tied and tied well. Now I have to go. See you tomorrow at ten.

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