Crimes Of August Part 32

All the highways in the region were closed off. No vehicle crossed the barriers without being searched, its pa.s.sengers identified and searched.

Night fell. More and more soldiers and equipment poured into the command post set up in Tingua.

At ten o'clock that night, operations were suspended and scheduled to resume at five a.m. the following day.

In his flight through the woods toward the cabin on the hillside, Climerio had ripped the blue pants he wore and destroyed his shoes. In the cabin, he took off the torn pants and donned another pair. In place of the destroyed shoes, he put on a pair of clogs. He ate spaghetti and beans heated in the cabin's wooden stove. Before plunging into the woods he grabbed the .38 revolver, loaded with six bullets, and the fifty thousand cruzeiros delivered to him by Soares at Gregrio's orders.

After running and walking, disoriented, in the darkness that quickly enveloped the forest, lashed and at times injured by tree branches, Climerio, a fat man, sat down, fatigued, by a tree, resting his back against it. He was trembling from fear and cold; he ran his chilled hand over his pockmarked face.

The night was thick, without even moonlight to dissipate, however slightly, the absolute darkness that enveloped him.

seventeen.

THAT TUESDAY MORNING, as troops of the army, air force, and navy, supported by planes, helicopters, and military vehicles, closed the circle around Climerio, on the Tingua mountainside, Colonel Adyl, accompanied by a heavily armed escort, taking prisoner Joo Valente, second-in-command of the now-defunct personal guard of president Vargas, invaded the Catete Palace and headed for the guards' former lodgings, where they broke open desk drawers and filing cabinets and apprehended all the private correspondence and other papers of Lieutenant Gregrio Fortunato, along with close to three hundred thousand cruzeiros in cash. The mission was fast, lasting only about ten minutes. The invasion would be made public in the Chamber and the Senate, by the opposition, as proof that "the government no longer governed."

A short time later, the secretary of war was honored by the commander and other officers of the First Cavalry Regiment of the Dragoons of Independence, in the So Cristvo barracks.

In addition to that homage to Zenbio, one more was scheduled for that Tuesday. Beginning at 2:30 p.m., black cars carrying high-ranking army chiefs and the upper ranks of officers of the Rio de Janeiro garrison, led by General Odilio Denys, commandant of the Eastern Military Zone, began arriving at the War Office. They were to demonstrate to General Zenbio his comrades' solidarity for his decisive action in maintaining the elevated prestige of the army and the nation. Responding to the greeting of General Denys, General Zenbio said, "Comrades! Trust me, as I trust you!"

IN THE CHAMBER OF DEPUTIES, the majority leader, Capanema, constantly interrupted by asides and clamors of protest from the minority deputies, said that Getlio's resignation was not a demand from the people; it was a demand from a political party, the same political party that had tried to prevent his taking office with the celebrated argument of the absolute majority, that had recently attempted to remove him from the Catete by a groundless impeachment. That episode, that exploitation of the death of Major Vaz, was one more step in the struggle begun almost four years ago to remove the president in any way possible, whether by instigating the people, instigating the press, or instigating the armed forces.

From the floor came shouts of "murderer, dictator, criminal," p.r.o.nounced against Vargas. Led by members of the UDN, opposition deputies began a chant that echoed loudly in the Chamber: "Res-ig-na-tion! Res-ig-na-tion! Res-ig-na-tion!"

The president of the Republic, Capanema continued amid the hubbub from the floor, could not resign because he needed to defend, for the good of the people, the essential works of his administration and const.i.tutional stability. Capanema reiterated an argument he had used repeatedly. Now he responded to Deputy Bilac Pinto to tell him not to hypothesize the peaceful succession of Vice President Cafe Filho, not because Capanema lacked confidence in the serene and correct expectation of the armed forces but from fearing and foreseeing that resignation as demanded by a pa.s.sionate minority against the majority of the people, thrown in the face of the poor, the workers, the laborers, the soldiers, would subvert public order, and be so upsetting to tranquility and order, that the nation from one moment to the next might face a conflagration of disastrous and unpredictable consequences; because, once the spark of revolution was struck, who could any longer a.s.sure the preservation of inst.i.tutions?

SOON AFTER CAPANEMA ENDED HIS SPEECH, Vitor Freitas met with his "group of independents" to relay the information he had received from his "friend in the palace." What Freitas said was received with surprise and apprehension by the other legislators. According to his palace informant, an emissary from the president, Marcio Alves, had left that day for Minas Gerais, on a secret mission for Vargas, to enlist the support of governor Juscelino Kubitschek for imposition of a state of siege in the country.

Some members of the group doubted the veracity of the information.

"Why didn't Getlio choose Capanema or Tancredo for that mission?"

"It would be impossible for either of them to do it secretly," answered Freitas. "Capanema spoke to General Dutra to get support for Getlio and everybody knows about it. The choice of Marcio Alves was clever. He's an intimate friend of Amaral Peixoto and his wife; he's intelligent, discreet, and loyal to the government. The right person for a delicate mission like that."

"Does Lacerda already know about it?"

"Certainly. He has the same informants as I do."

"Then the UDN is going to try to pull a coup first."

"They'll have to convince the military."

"The air force is already more than convinced."

"But the army's in charge, and the army is undecided. Zenbio, Estillac, Denys-everything depends on them, and for now they don't know what to do."

"The UDN is trying to influence the military in several ways. One is by the pressure of public opinion. The large newspapers are playing the opposition's game. ltima Hora, which in the past strongly supported the president, strikes me as cowed lately."

"Getlio received a.s.sis Chateaubriand this morning."

"Let's see how Chateau's newspapers behave from now on. In any case, Getlio has already lost the battle for public opinion."

A SHORT TIME before finis.h.i.+ng his s.h.i.+ft, Inspector Mattos received some information from the clerk, Oliveira: "Remember that Portuguese with the oranges? Mr. Adelino?"

"Of course. His son falsely confessed to a homicide. I charged the old man with physical a.s.sault resulting in death and made it clear that the circ.u.mstances demonstrated that the agent had not intended that fatal outcome."

"Right, you felt sorry for him . . . But it didn't do any good. The old man had a heart attack and died."

Mattos had already handed over duty to Inspector Maia when the jailer came to say that the cell boss Odorico wanted to talk to him.

"Want to come with me?" asked Mattos.

"They want to talk to you," Maia excused himself. "Make believe you haven't relieved me yet."

In the lockup the prisoners were arguing. When they saw Mattos they ran to the bars. Their simultaneous complaints were silenced by a gesture from Odorico, the boss of the cell.

"Sir, just a quick word. We know you're about to end your s.h.i.+ft, but we don't have n.o.body else to ask."

Mattos took an antacid from his pocket, placed it in his mouth, and chewed.

"Whenever you're in charge of the precinct, you empty the lockup a little. But the situation keeps getting worse. This week five more arrived that not even you can let go, they've been convicted. There's not even room in here to move. There's barely s.p.a.ce for everybody to sleep at the same time."

Mattos approached the bars. The prisoners, pressed against the bars, seemed like a double wall of bodies.

"Open the door," Mattos told the jailer.

Mattos entered the lockup. He walked about the cell. The prisoners pressed against one another to let him through. Even so, Mattos rubbed against the dirty bodies of the inmates, smelling their fetid breath.

"We can't get any sun, or exercise. It's horrible. Can't you arrange for some of us to be transferred to the penitentiary?"

"I'll see, Odorico, I'll see."

Mattos knew there were no vacancies in the penitentiaries. And that all the other precincts' lockups were also beyond normal capacity.

"At least the food's better, isn't it?"

"It's better, but food ain't everything."

"I'll see, Odorico, I'll see."

Mattos left his s.h.i.+ft, caught the streetcar, thinking about Odorico and the other prisoners in that filthy, stinking cell. He thought about Mr. Adelino. What was his orange grove like? Sweet oranges? He, Mattos, could only eat sweet oranges, which had less acidity. He thought about the son, Cosme, his pregnant wife. The world he lived in was s.h.i.+t. The entire world was s.h.i.+t. And now he was going to the home of a luxury procuress to do the work of a vulture, his heart heavy and his mind laden with problems. The black man who had killed Paulo Gomes Aguiar wasn't Lieutenant Gregrio, as his ingenuous hastiness had led him to suppose. Now he needed to find a black man who was big and strong-the mac.u.mba priest Miguel could also be eliminated from his deliberations. He needed to locate the doorman Raimundo. He needed to connect all the dots. He needed to investigate the murder of Old Turk even though the case was in a different jurisdiction and prospects were very unpleasant, since he suspected Padua. He needed to pressure Ilidio. He needed to have a talk with Alice. He needed to have a talk with Salete. He needed to see the doctor. He needed to check his feces in the toilet bowl.

Almeidinha opened the door.

"Mr. Mattos, so nice to see you. Dona Laura is waiting for you." Ingratiating, pandering: "You really must come here more often. . . Dona Laura was very taken with you . . ."

Laura was sitting on a sofa in the semidarkness of her red living room.

"You may go, Almeidinha."

The two remained silent for a moment.

"Sit down, Inspector."

Mattos sat in an armchair.

"Sit over here by me," said Laura, patting the sofa.

"I'm fine here."

"But I'm not fine with you there. I don't want to put on my pince-nez to see you, understand? I'm very nearsighted."

Mattos didn't move.

"Please, I don't bite."

"Put on the pince-nez."

Laura got the pince-nez from a small table beside the sofa. She placed the silk cord around her neck and brought the pince-nez in front of her eyes, without supporting it on her nose.

"Have you stopped hitting your head against the wall?"

"For the time being. I'd like to get some information from you."

"About Senator Freitas?"

"Exactly."

"What do you want to know?"

"What kind of person the senator . . . uh-"

"Young men. Business employees, students-any clean, good-looking young man."

"Does he like black men?"

"The senator?! He's a racist. He hates blacks. He once fought with a friend, because the guy has a black boxing instructor."

"Can you tell me the name of that friend?"

"One Pedro Lomagno."

"Can you tell me what you know about this Lomagno?"

"He was here just once. He only had a few whiskeys with Freitas and left. They were going to meet another senator, who never showed up. I heard a bit of their argument. Freitas said Brazil was a backward country because of Negroes and the Catholic church. A cursed black heritage: the Jesuits' robes and the skin of slaves. He may even be a little bit right." Laura patted her red hair. "Of course, blacks aren't to blame for being black, the poor things."

Rosalvo, sadly, was right, Mattos had to admit. You can find out a lot of things in high-cla.s.s bordellos.

"This . . . boxing instructor. Do you know him? Do you know anything about him?"

"I don't have the faintest idea who he is. Let's change the subject, Inspector . . . Let's forget this unpleasant police work . . . I have a suggestion . . ."

"I don't have anything else to discuss with you."

"But you don't even know what my suggestion is."

Mattos stood up. "I don't want to know."

"No man treats me like this, did you know that?"

"Like what?"

"With such disdain. You don't like those who serve as intermediaries in amorous encounters, is that it?"

"It's a crime. It's called procuring. I didn't make the law."

"So you disdain me, because I'm a criminal?"

"I don't disdain anyone." He thought about Salete. He thought about Mr. Adelino. About Alice. Luciana. Lomagno. Ilidio. Old Turk. About the prost.i.tutes in his childhood on Conde Lage. A whirlwind in his head.

"What does someone have to do to deserve a bit of, I don't say affection, but a bit of your compa.s.sion?" asked Laura.

"Look, I already have two women, and I don't know what to do with them. My hands and my heart are full."

"Whoever has two can have three," said Laura, seriously. "I like you. It doesn't bother me that you're a policeman, it doesn't bother me that you have an ulcer in your stomach, it doesn't bother me that you bang your head against the wall. It doesn't bother me that you have as many women as you want."

Mattos sat back down.

"Can you get me a gla.s.s of milk?"

"What?"

"My stomach is hurting."

Laura stood up. She was wearing a long, tight satin dress.

Rua Conde Lage.

"I'll get your milk."

As she pa.s.sed close to him, Mattos smelled the perfume emanating from Laura's body. Rua Conde Lage.

IT WAS STILL DARK, at five a.m., when the troops employed in the hunt for Climerio began their execution of the plan laid out by their commanders. The dogs, after sniffing again Climerio's clothing found in the home of his friend, became restless and were the first to move, restrained by the soldiers of the patrol.