Crimes Of August Part 10

"Who can that be?" said Salete.

Mattos opened the door.

"Did I give you my address?" asked the inspector, surprised to see Alice in the hallway.

"I saw it in the phone book." Pause. "Colette died, did you know. On the third. She's going to be buried day after tomorrow, in the Pere Lachaise."

"No, I didn't know."

"You said you liked her books." Alice tried to identify the book the inspector had in his hand, unsuccessfully.

"Right now I have my own cadavers to worry about. I'm a cop, or did you forget?"

"Aren't you going to ask me in?"

"I have a visitor."

Alice raised her gaze past Mattos's shoulder and saw Salete.

"I'm sorry . . . I came by to-I'll phone you later . . . Is it all right if I call you later?"

"Yes. Call, if you want to."

The inspector closed the door.

"Who was that woman?"

"A friend."

"Pretty." Pause. "I'm going to see if the water's come," said Salete, without moving from her position. "Are you mad because she left when she saw me?"

"No."

"She's a lady . . . I saw that right away. Is she your other girlfriend? The real one?"

"It's nothing like that. Let's change the subject."

"You're mad." Pause. "I didn't know you liked blondes . . ." Pause. "If you'd asked, I would've gone away and left you here with her, without getting upset."

In Dona Floripes's house she had been taught that men existed to be pleased, that men existed to be deceived and exploited, and therefore it was necessary to know how to dissimulate.

But she didn't want to deceive or exploit this man. "It's not true. I was jealous of her. I would've been very unhappy if you had sent me away."

Mattos gave Salete a kiss on the cheek.

"I'll go see if the water's come," said Salete.

When she entered the bathroom she saw her face in the mirror of the medicine cabinet. However small, a mirror always attracted her gaze.

She brought her face close to the mirror. She would like very much to be blonde and have blue eyes, like that woman, and like that woman know how to look directly at others, as the blonde woman had done when looking at her from the door. Now, from up close, she contemplated her face in the mirror. The eyes were very round; everyone said it was almond-shaped eyes that were pretty. The eyebrows were thick and dark, the nose too long, the mouth too large. Why had G.o.d made her so ugly? What saved her was her body.

She removed her clothes and tried to see her body in the small mirror. She would have liked at that moment to see herself nude in a large mirror in order to forget the blonde lady. At home she would dance naked in front of an enormous wall mirror, and the sight of her nude body in motion always caused her immense happiness. But in Mattos's apartment there was only that crummy mirror that let her see only her horrible face.

The pipes in the bathroom began to rumble. The water was back. Salete filled the bathtub, taking care to see that the temperature was right. Then she stood beside the tub. She didn't need to strike a pose; she wasn't like many of the girls she'd met at Dona Floripes's, who would try to appeal to johns by hiding their b.r.e.a.s.t.s and b.u.t.t behind cloths, sucking in their belly, contorting themselves by placing one leg over the other to conceal the curved opening between their thighs. She shouted: "You can come in."

Mattos entered the bathroom.

"Get rid of that book."

Salete watched the inspector put the book in a corner, on the clothes hamper. Where was the look of surprise at her nudity, or that other look, that of desire? She took Mattos's hand and placed it on her breast.

"Can you hear my heart?"

She had seen that in a film. It wasn't one of the clever wh.o.r.e's tricks that she'd learned in Dona Floripes's house; whenever she was nude in front of Mattos, her heart would pound, and he must be able to feel that with his fingers. Her body trembled.

"Yes, I can hear your heart beat." He turned his back to her, picked up the book, and left the bathroom.

Salete retrieved her clothes from the floor and dressed sadly. She went back to the living room. Mattos, his elbows supported on the table, was deeply absorbed in reading the book in front of him. Salete left in silence, without the inspector noticing.

IN THE SENATE GARAGE, Senator Vitor Freitas, accompanied by his aide Clemente, got into the official car at his disposal and ordered the driver to take them to the Aeronautics Club. The club, on Marechal Ancora Square, wasn't far from the Senate; normally the car would arrive in less than ten minutes, but that day, after half an hour stuck on Avenida Presidente Antonio Carlos, the senator got out of the car and, along with his adviser, walked the rest of the way.

A crowd was at the door of the club, and several times Vitor Freitas had to invoke his status as senator to finally be allowed to enter.

The coffin with the body of Major Vaz had just been sealed and was being covered with the Brazilian flag.

"We're late," Clemente said.

"Where's the brigadier, Eduardo Gomes? I need for him to see me here," said Vitor Freitas. The brigadier had been the UDN presidential candidate in 1946 and 1950. In the first election, he had lost to General Gaspar Dutra, who had been Vargas's secretary of war during the dictatorship. In the second, he had lost to Vargas himself, an unexpected victory for the ex-dictator, who thus avenged himself on one of the military officers who had led the movement that deposed him in 1945. Despite being twice defeated, the brigadier maintained in the eyes of the middle cla.s.s the romantic aura as a revolutionary hero acquired during the episode of the Eighteen of the Fort, on July 5, 1922: seventeen officers and soldiers and one civilian left Copacabana Fort and headed for the Catete Palace, where the commander of the fort had been taken prisoner for insubordination, ready to fight an unequal battle. They were marching along Avenida Atlntica when they were attacked by forces loyal to the government of President Epitacio Pessoa. The civilian and a lieutenant died. Three officers, among them Eduardo Gomes, were seriously wounded.

Clemente spotted the brigadier in the middle of a group of air force officers and civilians. But Freitas was unsuccessful in offering his desired condolences to Brigadier Eduardo Gomes. The senator managed to say, "Brigadier, the martyrdom of Major Vaz shall not be in vain." But the brigadier, whose leadership among younger air force officers, though himself in the reserves, was indisputable, didn't hear what Freitas was saying, for at that instant he shouted in irritation, "I've already said the cortege will not go past the door of the Catete. It will go along the beach. This is not the moment for provocation."

Clemente whispered in Freitas's ear, "Take advantage of the chance to speak with General Caiado. It's not a bad idea to stay on the good side of both Greeks and Trojans."

The head of the president's military cabinet, visibly uneasy, remained in a corner, accompanied by an adjutant. Caiado de Castro was there as the personal representative of President Vargas. The general had come directly from the Catete, where the Vargas family had gathered.

Freitas greeted Caiado, who recognized him.

"The president is deeply shocked by this barbarous crime. He has given strict orders to find those responsible, whomever it may hurt," said Caiado.

"Vargas is facing this situation like the great statesman he is," said Freitas, quickly taking his leave of the general. It was best not to commit to anyone. The situation was very fluid.

A throng of five thousand people accompanied the casket on foot to the So Joo Batista cemetery. Senator Vitor Freitas and his adviser had finally succeeded in insinuating themselves among the military and civilians surrounding Eduardo Gomes. Upon recognizing the brigadier, bystanders along the cortege route shouted to him, "Brigadier, keep democracy alive!" and "We're going to sweep the criminals out of the palace!" The brigadier maintained a solemn and concentrated bearing.

It was 6:30 p.m. when they finally arrived at the cemetery. A canopy, with a lantern burning at its top, covered the tomb where Major Vaz was to be buried. When the body was lowered into the sepulcher, Vitor Freitas had managed to place himself between Tancredo Neves, the secretary of justice, and Cardinal Dom Jaime de Barros Cmara. "The police will do everything possible to bring to justice those responsible for this crime," said the secretary in a weary voice when he recognized the senator beside him. Tancredo Neves had uttered that phrase dozens of times in the last twenty-four hours.

Before leaving the cemetery Vitor Freitas suddenly found himself beside Eduardo Gomes. For a few instants he didn't know what to say, but his indecision was brief: "The death of this hero will be the birth of decency in Brazil," he said, recalling a phrase he had read on a wreath back at the Aeronautics Club. He saw that the phrase had an effect on the brigadier. "I'm Senator Vitor Freitas, of the PSD," he added. "Thank you, Senator," replied Eduardo Gomes, in a voice heavy with emotion.

From the cemetery, Freitas and Clemente went to the home of the journalist Carlos Lacerda. The apartment was crowded with people, many of them uniformed military. Lacerda was leaning back on a sofa, his foot in a cast, elevated. Freitas approached the journalist. "A monstrosity," he said. "This administration is one of lawlessness and insanity," answered Lacerda. The senator spoke with various people to mark his presence, among them Generals Canrobert and Etchgoyen, Brigadier Trompowski, the lawyer Sobral Pinto, and the deputy Prado Kelly. He even spoke with Dona Olga, the journalist's mother.

From Lacerda's home, the senator and Clemente went to Ciro's, a nightclub.

"What a day," Freitas said after the waiter served him a double whiskey.

"You think the cruzeiro will be devaluated? It's 18.82 to the dollar, official rate, and 64.30 in the black market," said Clemente.

"You're speculating in dollars?"

"I have to look out for myself. What you pay me in the Senate isn't much. I have expensive habits. Let's hear it, Vitor, answer."

"Souza Dantas said the cruzeiro isn't going to be devaluated. It's going to be maintained at the official rate of 18.82."

"I don't believe anything coming from those f.u.c.kers in the government. If you find out anything, you'll let me know immediately?"

"Of course I will, my angel. What a day! I think I deserve a rest."

"I know what you need," said Clemente, with a devious smile.

"Get me a good-looking boy this time."

"I'll see what I can do. But don't forget, I deserve a rest myself."

IT WAS ALREADY NIGHT when Salete arrived at the mac.u.mba site of Mother Ingracia.

She related everything that had happened. Mother Ingracia, smoking a pipe, her head turned because she was a little deaf, listened attentively.

"What was the blonde woman's voice like? Did it sound hoa.r.s.e?"

"I didn't hear her voice. But she must have a pretty voice. The wretched woman is beautiful."

"When the man's undershorts don't work, there's just one thing that does," said Mother Ingracia after several puffs.

"What's that, Mother?"

"The scab from an injury. You have to bring me a scab from an injury of his."

"A scab? How am I supposed to get a scab?"

"Who doesn't have a small injury of some kind? Everybody gets injured from time to time. And every injury creates a scab. Look here."

Mother Ingracia showed her arm, where there was a lesion covered by a scab.

"Can't it be something else?"

"No. It's got to be a scab. One of those little brown ones."

Mother Ingracia carefully removed the scab, placed it in the palm of her hand and showed it to Salete.

six.

ON FRIDAY, AROUND SEVEN A.M., carrying an empty suitcase, Climerio returned to the home of the gunman Alcino.

"The s.h.i.t's. .h.i.t the fan," said Climerio. "That f.u.c.ker Nelson turned himself in to the police yesterday. Today they took him to the Military Police barracks, and the b.a.s.t.a.r.d spilled his guts. I shouldn't have trusted the son of a b.i.t.c.h. You'd better go into hiding."

He handed Alcino the suitcase. "Put some clothes in it. It's best for you to leave immediately."

"What about my money? You promised it by today."

Climerio took from his pocket a wad of money and handed it to Alcino. Ten thousand cruzeiro notes.

Alcino threw into the suitcase a sweater, two pairs of undershorts, two shorts, a knit woolen cap, a rosary with a metal cross at its tip, and a pair of clogs.

FIRST TO ARRIVE AT THE A MINHOTA, on So Jose, downtown, not very far from the Chamber of Deputies, was Lomagno. It was almost one o'clock. The restaurant, normally frequented by many senators and deputies, was empty.

Lomagno sat down, uncommunicative. He asked the waiter for a whiskey on the rocks. After serving Lomagno, the waiter left on the table a bucket of ice and a half-full bottle of White Horse onto which was attached a vertical strip of paper marking the number of drinks consumed.

A short time later, Claudio Aguiar arrived. They had spoken several times by telephone, but that was the first time they had seen each other since the death of Gomes Aguiar. Claudio gestured to the waiter, indicating Lomagno's whiskey.

"Claudio, you're a son of a b.i.t.c.h. Magalhes told me you tried to transfer the Cemtex financing to Brasfesa."

Claudio stammered. "He . . . he said that?"

"Why did you do it?"

"Luciana is going to get control of Cemtex now. I don't trust her. Luciana is going to cheat us."

At that moment, Vitor Freitas arrived, accompanied by his aide Clemente and Deputy Orestes Cravalheira, of the PSD. Claudio greeted the three dryly and left the table, heading for the bathroom. Lomagno followed him.

"Take it easy," Lomagno said inside the bathroom.

"Did he have to bring his catamite?"

"Easy, easy," Lomagno repeated.

"He can't do this to me. I'm going to tell him I don't want that f.a.g at our table. The scoundrel! The scoundrel!"

Lomagno slapped Claudio forcefully. The latter drew back, startled.

"Why did you do that?"

"You're not going to say anything. When you're over this attack of hysteria, come back to the table and keep quiet."

"What's with Claudio?" asked Freitas when Lomagno returned from the bathroom.