Yolanda Pleguezuelos has waited seven months for prosecutors to cross-check DNA evidence in a decades-old sexual assault case. Despite new genetic data, victims remain without answers as legal delays persist.
Pressure is mounting on Catalonia's prosecutors after new DNA evidence in a notorious 1995 sexual assault case has yet to yield answers for the victims. Yolanda Pleguezuelos, who survived a double rape in Esparraguera, Barcelona, has publicly called on authorities to expedite the identification of her second attacker. Despite the National Institute of Toxicology completing a genetic profile and the case being under renewed scrutiny due to a documentary investigation, the process remains stalled.
The case, which saw two men wrongly convicted in the 1990s, has long been a symbol of judicial error in Spain. Abderrazak Mounib died in prison, while Ahmed Tommouhi was recently awarded €2.5 million in compensation by the Supreme Court for his wrongful imprisonment. The real perpetrator, Antonio García Carbonell, was eventually convicted but released early, with victims learning of his release only through the media. For decades, the identity of the second assailant remained unknown.
In September 2025, Pleguezuelos discovered that the Catalan Prosecutor's Office was quietly investigating her case. The breakthrough came when a documentary series produced by Atresmedia uncovered new leads, prompting the National Institute of Toxicology to finalize the DNA profile of the second attacker. Since December, prosecutors have had information pointing to a likely suspect, but victims have received no official updates.
On October 30, three victims, including Pleguezuelos, formally requested that prosecutors expand DNA testing using samples they had provided years earlier. After months without a response, Pleguezuelos submitted another petition to the State Prosecutor's Office in June, emphasizing her sole wish to know the truth, not to seek punishment or compensation. Authorities have not publicly explained the delay, but sources indicate that the statute of limitations has expired, making prosecution impossible. The expanded DNA profile has been entered into the national database, but no matches have been found for crimes after 2006, the year the database was established.
Other victims, like Nuria, have echoed Pleguezuelos's frustration, questioning why they are denied even the right to know the truth. The lack of communication from both the Catalan and State Prosecutor's Offices has left victims feeling abandoned. Pleguezuelos has now chosen to forgo her anonymity, appealing directly to Francisco Bañeres, Catalonia's chief prosecutor, and other responsible institutions to provide clarity and closure. She describes the ongoing wait as humiliating and more difficult than the original crime, highlighting the emotional toll of a system that, in her view, has failed victims for over three decades.
Prosecutors maintain they are awaiting a legal medicine report, a process that has already taken nine months. The situation has drawn attention to broader issues of victim rights and institutional transparency in Spain's justice system. The case also resonates with recent calls for accountability in other high-profile legal matters, such as the scrutiny surrounding Quirón Prevención and the partner of Madrid’s regional president, as detailed in this related report.
For context, Spain's statute of limitations for sexual crimes has been a subject of debate, with reforms in recent years extending or eliminating time limits for certain offenses. However, these changes do not apply retroactively to cases from the 1990s. Victims of gender-based violence in Spain can access support services via the 016 helpline, which operates 24/7 in multiple languages. In emergencies, individuals are advised to contact 112 or law enforcement directly. The ongoing delays in this case highlight persistent challenges in balancing legal procedures with the needs of those seeking justice and closure after decades of uncertainty.
