Lieutenant Palacios

Lieutenant Palacios is a police officer whose brief refusal to obey Javier Fumero marks a limit to the inspector’s command during the confrontation at the Aldaya mansion. His later departure from the force gives that moment an understated aftermath: the novel remembers him not as a victor, but as someone who eventually leaves the institution in which Fumero’s authority once seemed so difficult to resist.

Role in the Mansion Confrontation

Palacios arrives in the mansion’s library after hearing gunshots, entering with his weapon raised. Fumero is wounded and struggling with a knife; Carax is nearby, and Daniel is present. Palacios looks from Fumero to Daniel and Carax, registering the situation before Fumero reaches out for his gun.

When Fumero demands the weapon, Palacios answers no. His refusal is direct, but it does not end the danger: Fumero takes the gun and pushes him aside. Palacios’s authority as an armed officer cannot prevent Fumero from seizing control of the scene, and Carax is left exposed to the gunman.

Relationship with Fumero and the Police

Palacios is Fumero’s subordinate, but in this decisive moment he does not simply comply. His refusal contrasts with Fumero’s ability to override him by force, showing how the inspector’s personal violence can overwhelm the formal chain of command. The scene does not establish Palacios’s broader views or explain his motives; it presents his choice through the action itself.

Later Life and Narrative Significance

Years afterward, Daniel encounters Palacios on Paseo de Gracia. He has left the police force and teaches gymnastics at a school in the Bonanova quarter. He tells Daniel that a commemorative plaque for Fumero remains in the basement of Central Police Headquarters on Via Layetana, though a soft-drinks machine now covers it.

That detail places Palacios within the novel’s retrospective account of Fumero’s fading memory. Palacios survives the confrontation and moves into a different profession, while the plaque preserves an official trace of the man whose violence had once dominated the library. Its obscured position makes the later recollection less a celebration of Fumero than a record of how even institutional memorials can recede from view.