Benjamín Cardus has already bought the van for 90 euros

Previously: Ruth found out that the 2023 removal of the van was requested by phone by a private caller using the number of Frigoríficos Cardus.

At eleven twenty on Saturday 4 October, at the counter of the municipal impound lot, Ruth Anglada still had 201 letters to read from file 214 before closing time and five long days until the crane took the van to the crusher. Twenty-two years old, three weeks into a temporary contract, the red marker resting on the list.

«Good morning. I'm here about the vehicle in bay 214.» The man carried a thin folder under his arm and a polite smile. White shirt, boat shoes. Fifty-something. «Benjamín Cardus. Frigoríficos Cardus, right next to the harbour, you may have heard of us.»

Ruth had. She had read it three times on three different papers: on the complaint of 3 July 2023, with the phone number printed on the fish boxes; on the deposit to the account of Aitana Pomares's mother, eleven thousand euros, sender Frigoríficos Cardus, dated 11 February 2023; and on the yellow labels of the display cases in every fishmonger in Alicante. She closed the file without looking and, so as not to appear on guard, left her hand on top of it.

«Go ahead.»

«Not much, miss. This is the third time I come. I've talked to Chelo, to Bruno, to whoever was on duty. I just wanted to confirm in writing that 214 leaves the lot on the 9th and I know exactly where it goes.» He smiled again. «It's a seized vehicle with a civil liability of 214,000 euros; nobody can rescue it. It goes to scrap. The company taking it is mine, or rather, my brother-in-law's, that's what he does.»

Cardus opened the folder and took out a sheet. He placed it on the counter, upside down, and spun it with a single finger so Ruth could read it the right way up.

It was a municipal scrap auction receipt. Lot LT-2026-09, twenty-two vehicles, awarded on 30 September. On the last line, in bold: «Lot awarded to Metálicas del Levante S. L., 1,980 euros, collection 9 October at the municipal impound lot, Calle del Muelle 12». Ruth did the mental maths out of habit: 1,980 divided by 22 was ninety exactly. Not a cent more, not a cent less.

«Ninety euros for the car,» said Cardus, without underlining it. «Less than the padlock cost back in 2023.»

«The monthly payment on file 214/2023 is still coming in, Mr Cardus. It came in today, this morning, at eleven fourteen.» Ruth had not looked at the computer; she knew because her phone had beeped twice while she was in the bathroom. Payment 39, eighty euros, sender blank.

«The payments stop on the 9th,» he said, and now he did underline, with a finger, the word collection. «On that day the crane hooks the car, it leaves the file and enters the lot. It's the municipal regulation that says so, not me. From the 9th on, that vehicle is a piece of metal, and whoever pays for that metal takes it.»

«All right. And what do you need from me?»

«I need you to know,» Cardus lowered his voice a tone, neither threatening nor cordial, exactly the voice of a man giving instructions to a new employee, «that if for any reason the car does not leave on the 9th, or leaves with damage, or if any paper in the file appears with a different handwriting, my brother-in-law's company would have to file a claim. And whoever files a claim against the Council, miss, is filing against Bruno Pertegaz, head of operations of the impound lot. And Bruno is trying to find a permanent contract for you. We discussed it on Thursday at lunch at the Real Club Náutico.»

Ruth said nothing. Cardus went on.

«The kid confessed, you know? Óscar. The brother of that blonde girl who comes every month to photograph the fence. He confessed because he was guilty, he ran over Encarna Sirera, and that's why he's where he is. It's not a whim. It's a final sentence. And that van belongs to the civil liability, not to the family. The family has no right for any strange record to appear that puts it back into circulation as evidence, or as a relic, or as anything else. Are we clear?»

«We're clear, Mr Cardus.»

«Perfect.» He smiled for the third time, folded the folder and tucked it back under his arm. «Sign a stamped copy of the receipt for me, please. Just so it's on record that I brought it.»

Ruth took the stamp, pressed it slowly into the ink pad and stamped twice: once on Cardus's copy and once on a photocopy she made, without asking, and filed in expediente 214/2023, between the complaint of 3 July and the deposit of 11 February.

Cardus turned in the doorway.

«Ah, miss. Ruth, isn't it? On the 9th I'll be here at nine. I'm bringing a new cart to pick up any personal objects that might be inside. If there is anything, I mean. Clothes. Photos. Anything the scrap dealer wouldn't want. You understand.»

«I understand perfectly, Mr Cardus.»

The door closed. Ruth took her phone, dialled Aitana Pomares's number, waited for two rings and hung up before the third, the signal they had agreed on Tuesday for «don't come today, come tomorrow». Then she opened file 214/2023 and, below the last payment, in red marker, wrote a new row: «04/10, 11:32, visit Benjamín Cardus, awardee LT-2026-09, collection 9/10. Stamped copy filed».

Five days to go.