Gil Baleares doesn’t have much going on in his life: a kidnapped father suffering from Alzheimer, a daughter who is perhaps not his own, a divorce, forty years of existence marked by alcohol, frustration and defeat, and a lot of memories from the time when he was a federal investigations agent in legendary Mexico City. Now, seeking out a living, he finds himself being rehired by the police, drawn by the promise of help in rescuing his father in exchange for him finding a possible transsexual serial killer. Back on the streets once more, he is a victim of the lost frontiers between law and crime. Perhaps his only consolation lies in trying to find peace in the turbulent passion he lives with Teresa, a Colombian woman with a babe in arms and her mind filled with the memory of her brothers’ severed heads, butchered as they were by the FARC [Revolutionary Armed Forces of Colombia]. This is his so-lace, along with the chance to forget himself in the blue ambience of a cave wherein smoke floats and masks faces, whilst the voice of Mama Bayou sings of her sins.