Belascoarгўn | Pi

"The traffic was a nightmare," Hector replied, leaning against a crate. "And I had to stop for a smoke."

"You're late, Belascoarán," the man said without looking up. His voice was as dry as the dust on the floor. "I expected you yesterday." BelascoarГЎn PI

The man finally looked at him. His eyes were flat, like polished stone. "What do you want, Hector? I’m just a man cleaning up the past." "The traffic was a nightmare," Hector replied, leaning

Hector Belascoarán Shayne sat in his cramped office on Calle Independencia, the smoke from his cigarette curling around the ancient, rotary phone like a ghost. He wasn't just a Private Investigator; he was a "detective independent," a title that in Mexico City often felt like a fancy way of saying "professional target." "I expected you yesterday