Crimes Of August Part 33

As soon as the day brightened, the helicopters took flight.

At the top of the mountain, the sounds of the small creatures of the forest, who during the night had terrified Climerio and not let him sleep, began to be replaced by the distant barking of dogs. Soon afterward, a louder sound filled Climerio with fear. He lay curled up on the ground, and saw, through the crowns of the trees, a helicopter circling slowly. The 'copter was so near that Climerio could read the letters on its cabin: FAB.

The barking of the dogs increased.

Climerio was trembling from cold. His hand was so chilled that he had difficulty taking the revolver from his belt. He rested the barrel against his head. He didn't have the courage to pull the trigger; they're not going to kill me, he thought, they need me alive.

When he saw the first dogs and the men from the patrol, Climerio came out from behind the trees with his hands raised.

Three shots rang out. The agreed-upon signal that the hunt was over. It was eight a.m.

At eleven, Climerio was disembarking in handcuffs from a helicopter at the military base at Galeo, to the sound of cheers and jubilation. His wife, Elvira de Almeida, had been arrested that morning.

Brigadier Eduardo Gomes, the opposition military leader, was immediately informed of the fugitive's capture. No thought was given to informing the secretary of the air force, Nero Moura, with the same rapidity. In any case, he was to be replaced that same day by a new secretary, Brigadier Epaminondas. But neither of them was respected by air force officialdom. The de facto secretary was Eduardo Gomes.

IN HIS FORTRESS IN BANGU, Eusebio de Andrade met with his fellow bankers Aniceto Moscoso and Ilidio.

"Did you get the summons yet?"

"Not yet. But the clerk told me it's coming."

"That inspector is going to give us trouble yet," said Aniceto.

"He's already giving us trouble," said Ilidio.

"I'm not talking about this. This is something you created," said Aniceto.

"I already spoke to my lawyer," said Ilidio.

"You need to change lawyers. That peg leg can't get it up." Aniceto and Moscoso laughed; Ilidio's attorney actually did have a mechanical leg.

"He fell off the streetcar when he was a student," Ilidio said.

"We can't have lawyers who fall off the streetcar," said Eusebio. "Go into a sanatorium this very day, one of those that specialize in rest cures. There's a very good one at Alto da Gavea. Spend a week there. When the summons arrives, send the peg leg with a medical certificate to say you're sick. In the meantime, we're going to act on another front, aren't we, Aniceto?"

"We'll find a way. It'll cost money, your money, Ilidio, but we'll get out of this jam."

"Is it going to be a lot?"

"Whatever it takes. That'll teach you to go off half-c.o.c.ked."

eighteen.

"I'VE GOT TO GIVE Senator Freitas some information. He's pressuring me."

Rosalvo remained silent, meditating.

"You told me the inspector is investigating a homicide in which the senator may be involved. Just what crime are we talking about?"

Teodoro, the Senate security officer, and Rosalvo, aide to Inspector Mattos, were conversing in a restaurant on General Osrio Square, in Ipanema.

"Remember that rich guy who turned up dead in the Deauville Building?"

"Is that the case?"

"The high roller was involved in under-the-table business with the senator, import licenses obtained fraudulently from the Cexim, along with other backroom deals. He knew too much, and he got killed."

"And the inspector thinks it was the senator who killed the guy?"

"His conclusion is that the senator ordered the killing, to hide his role in the larceny."

"Does the inspector have proof or is it all supposition, a hunch?"

"I don't know."

The waiter brought pork loin with manioc flour.

"There's a rumor that the senator's a fruit," said Rosalvo.

"How can you say that! Some people have the habit of calling any fellow who's not married a pansy. The senator's a man."

"Could be a bull d.y.k.e."

"Impossible. If he were, I'd know."

"Don't go telling the senator what I said."

"No way! The senator will get rid of me if I say something like that to him."

"Inspector Mattos is crazy. Real crazy, the kind who talks to himself and tears up money. Tell the senator that. He has to be careful with him."

TEODORO LOST NO TIME telling Clemente what Rosalvo had said. The part referring to the senator's possible h.o.m.os.e.xuality was omitted.

"I'll talk to the senator about this . . ."

Clemente stared at Teodoro for a long time, until he detected nervousness in his expression. "Can we trust you?"

"But of course, sir."

"Can the senator trust you? Blindly?"

Teodoro paled.

"The senator will know how to reward that trust," continued Clemente.

"Whatever the senator asks, not asks, orders, I'll do."

Ordering the killing of political adversaries, Clemente said, was common in the interior of Brazil, even more so in Pernambuco, the senator's home state, but in Rio de Janeiro, capital of the Republic, it was rarer, for one simple reason: it was difficult to find a killer "of faith." A killer so reliable that if caught he would never reveal who hired him. After this long buildup, Clemente stared at Teodoro and said: "The senator wants to get rid of that inspector. Could you do it?"

"Me?!"

"The senator has confidence in you."

"Mr. Clemente, I know someone better than me."

"Our man can't be some a.s.shole like that Alcino of the Rua Tonelero business. Who's the man?"

"My brother."

"Your brother? I didn't know you had a brother."

"He's the black sheep of the family. He's been in and out of trouble since he was a boy. He can do what the senator wants. He's a tough guy from Pernambuco. If he gets caught, he won't open his mouth; he'll kill himself first. But that won't happen. My brother has already killed over twenty people, and they've never laid a finger on him. You know who killed the mayor of Caruaru? The chief of police in Macei? It was him. He's killed politicians, soldiers, priests. He's very good."

"What's his name?"

"Genesio."

"Does he live in Rio?"

"Recife. But just call him and he comes, does the job, and takes it on the lam the same day."

"Then tell him to come right away. By plane. The senator's in a hurry. As soon as-Genesio, isn't it?-gets here, let me know. If everything goes well, that appointment for your wife will go through right away. You have a nineteen-year-old son, don't you?"

"Yes, sir."

"The senator can arrange something for him, too."

Meanwhile, in his office, Senator Freitas was receiving his main electoral supporter, a plantation owner known as "Colonel" Linhares. The "colonel" informed him that he was buying false voting papers for the October election for five cruzeiros apiece.

"Here in the State of Rio the same papers can be bought for two, three cruzeiros at most," protested Freitas. "You think I have a printing press to manufacture money like Oswaldo Aranha?"

"I brought you a bottle of your cherry liqueur," said Linhares.

"Don't change the subject. You've got to get the voting papers for less. I doubt if my opponents are paying all that."

"I'll see what I can do, senator. Now try the liqueur. Try it, it's really very good."

THE INSPECTOR BEGAN THE DAY by going to have an x-ray done of his stomach.

The doctor's office was in Copacabana, on Rua Barata Ribeiro. The inspector saw in the street many women carrying on their heads and in their hands cans, buckets, pots, and teakettles filled with water.

"I don't even have water to wash my hands," was the first thing the radiologist told him. "My wife went out this morning with the maid. It's absurd. She didn't even make breakfast. Yesterday it was the same thing. My children's school closed for lack of water, and there haven't been any cla.s.ses for three days. I'm was.h.i.+ng my hands with bottled water. Meanwhile, the politicians make speeches, everybody makes speeches, but n.o.body solves the problem of lack of water."

With dramatic gestures, as if to demonstrate the gravity of the situation, the doctor opened a bottle of So Lourenco water and used it to wash his hands in the small sink in the consultation room.

"How are your stools? Very dark?"

"I always forget to check."

"You have to take care of your health. The hemoglobin count from your blood test indicates that you're having gastric hemorrhaging. We'll see what the x-ray has to say."

"I take care of my health. I always carry antacids in my pocket and drink milk all the time."

The radiologist handed him a gla.s.s with a thick beige-colored liquid.

"What's this concoction that I'm drinking?" The taste of dirt mixed with chalk, similar to the taste of the whitewash on walls he sometimes ate when he was a child.

"Barium. For the contrast."

Mattos took off his clothes, put on a gown, and lay down on the x-ray table.

The x-rays were taken.

"You may suffer some constipation because of the barium," the radiologist said.

A CHECK OF FINGERPRINTS with the Felix Pacheco Inst.i.tute confirmed that the corpse identified by Mattos at the morgue was Ibrahim a.s.sad.

Mattos had asked Leonidio to record the name of whoever came to the morgue to claim the body and provide him with the information at once. For three days the cadaver had remained in the refrigerator, without receiving a single visitor. Administrative measures were being taken for a.s.sad to be buried as an indigent when an employee of the Santa Clara mortuary showed up to embalm the body.

"The remains are going to be transported to Caxambu, in Minas, to be buried," Leonidio said. "The body s.n.a.t.c.her says he doesn't know who paid the expenses."

In the office of the Santa Clara funeral home, an employee received Mattos and explained that the person who had paid the costs of embalming and transport of the body had asked for his act of charity to be anonymous.

"That person knows the mother of the deceased, a lady without resources . . . There are still good people in this world capable of a disinterested act of kindness . . ."

Mattos, who until then had not said he was from the police, showed his ID. His stomach felt heavy because of the barium he'd taken for the x-ray, but at the same time he believed the test had improved his health, and that he was cured.

"I'm investigating a murder. Tell me who paid the costs."

"You put me in a difficult position."

"Out with it. I've got a lot ahead of me today."

"A difficult situation . . ."

"Do you prefer to go the precinct with me?"

"It was a police officer, like you."

"His name."

The employee wiped sweat from his forehead with a purple handkerchief he took from his pocket. "Mr. Ubaldo Padua."