That’s the good thing about being the mother of a police inspector. Begoña is untouchable. She comes out of the metro at Santutxu at eleven at night, and can walk home without a care in the world. A gang sees her; one of them detaches himself, eyeing her purse, until another one grabs him by the elbow and pulls him back, cuffing him around the ear. “She’s the mother of a cop, you idiot. If you touch her, you’ll be laughing out the other side of your face when four cops show up and give you a root canal with their boots behind a dumpster. And you’ll deserve it.”
