Crimes Of August Part 17

"If this is an arbitrary act on my part, I apologize in advance. Put on the handcuff the way I ordered. Close it. Now put the other ring around the ankle of your right leg. I said the right leg. Close it. Cross your legs and you'll be more comfortable."

a.s.sad crossed his legs.

Mattos placed the revolver on the table. He took an antacid from his pocket and as he chewed it, observed the man sitting on the floor. The guy was calm and alert; he was also observing the inspector.

Mattos searched a.s.sad. He took his ID card. The green wallet bore a silver design of the Brazilian coat of arms and the words, also silver: United States of Brazil. Federal District Police. Felix Pacheco Inst.i.tute. Identification Card.

Mattos opened the small wallet. On one side: Register 749468. This wallet belongs to Ibrahim a.s.sad Filho, born in Minas Gerais on August 12, 1912, the son of Ibrahim a.s.sad and Farida a.s.sad, Brazilian nationality, Rio de Janeiro, December 21, 1943. Over two stamps, a green one for three hundred reis and a red one for two hundred reis, was the signature Jose M. Carvalho, Director. On the other side of the card, a photo of Ibrahim a.s.sad, next to the words Photograph invalid without Inst.i.tute stamp; an impression of his right thumbprint, and the fingerprint file number: Series V.4333, Section V.2222; and a.s.sad's signature.

The FN pistol of shining black metal was under a.s.sad's right arm, in a white leather holster. Mattos examined the weapon. He ejected the bullet that was in the chamber.

"Did you come here to kill me?"

"No, sir. That's absurd."

"Then why did you invade my house?"

"Invade your house? Sir, you pointed a gun in my face and ordered me inside. I came to register a complaint."

"What was the complaint?"

"Now I'm afraid to say anything. After the way you received me."

"Your pistol had a bullet in the chamber."

"A pistol always has to be like that, doesn't it, sir?"

"That's true." Another antacid.

"Why do you go around armed? Since when does a commercial representative need to carry a weapon?"

"There's a lot of outlaws running around the city. And I travel a lot. It's a beauty, don't you agree?"

"Who gave the order to kill me?"

"That's absurd. I'm not here to kill you."

"Who told you to come here . . . to visit me?"

"No one. The idea just came into my head, sir. I wanted to lodge a complaint against the corrupt cops in your precinct who take numbers money."

"In general, people have nothing against the numbers game. Why'd you come here to make that accusation?"

"You misunderstood, sir. I'm not against the numbers game. I'm against corrupt policemen. Since they told me you're an honest man, I decided to lodge my accusation with you."

"And I'm supposed to believe that?"

"The judge will."

Mattos's stomach began to ache. He put the gun against Old Turk's head.

"I can put a bullet in your head right now and toss your carca.s.s in the Sapucaia landfill."

"You're not the kind of man who does such an awful thing."

Mattos sat down in the chair in the living room.

"Could you get me a gla.s.s of water, please?"

Mattos called the precinct and asked for a patrol car.

He filled a gla.s.s with water from the filter and gave it to the handcuffed man.

ROSALVO HAD SET UP THE MEETING with his former colleague from Robbery and Theft at the Avenida dance hall, downtown.

Rosalvo, who liked dancing with the taxi-girls, arrived early. He bought a punch-card for the dances, sat down, ordered a gin and tonic, and watched the girls sitting along a row of chairs on one side of the room. He was especially interested in a mulatto woman, slim but not overly so, the protuberance of her rear end showed that she was well padded with flesh in the right place. Rosalvo liked mulatto women and justified that preference by claiming he was the "grandson of a Portuguese."

He took the girl to dance a bolero.

"I'd like to take you home later," said Rosalvo. He was a practical man and didn't like to waste time on small talk.

"We'll see about that later," said Cleyde, the dancer. She was practical as well and sensed that she had latched onto an old sucker good for several punches on her card that night. The more punches, the more she earned.

When Teodoro arrived, Cleyde's card had been punched six times, three boleros, two sambas, one fox trot. "I'll be right back," Rosalvo told the dancer at the end of the dance.

Rosalvo and Teodoro sat down at a special table chosen by the former. Teodoro apologized for being late.

His eye on Cleyde, who was now dancing with a fat bald man who had a diamond ring on his finger, Rosalvo said, "Let's get right to it."

"What's that Inspector Mattos like?"

"A crazy troublemaker. Intelligent but nave. A straight arrow, you know the type."

"What's your relationship with him?"

"He eats out of my hand."

"Explain that."

"He doesn't trust anybody at the precinct but me."

"What's his interest in Senator Freitas?"

"What's in it for me if I spill the beans?"

"A transfer to Vice."

"He's investigating the senator's backroom deals."

"The senator doesn't make backroom deals."

"Don't f.u.c.k with me, Teodoro. Let's skip the bulls.h.i.t. You and me go back a long way."

"Which backroom deals?"

"The Cemtex import license."

"That by itself isn't worth a transfer to Vice."

"Mattos is also investigating more serious stuff."

"Like what?"

"Article 121."

"Article 121?" said Teodoro, surprised. "The senator isn't the type to kill anybody. You're sure? What homicide is it?"

Rosalvo hesitated. It was better not to talk about the murder of Paulo Gomes Aguiar just yet, hold on to a few trump cards.

"I still don't know what the homicide is. But I'm sure that man's investigating a 121 involving the senator."

"Didn't you say he eats out of your hand? How can you not know?"

"I'm being frank with you, I don't know yet. But the man is going to have to call on me for help in the investigation. Like I said, Mattos doesn't trust anyone else. Tell the senator that if it's in his interest, and I think it is, I can ball up the investigation so bad that not a G.o.dd.a.m.n thing'll come out of it."

"But you haven't said which 121 it is."

"I don't know yet. Yet. The senator must know, doesn't he? Have you forgotten what you learned at the academy, Sherlock?"

The fat man with the diamond ring had sat down at one of the tables with Cleyde. They were drinking champagne. She had found a better sucker.

Rosalvo looked at his watch.

"Go talk to the senator. I want guarantees. The transfer to Vice has got to be published first, in the daily bulletin from HQ. I get a month for the transfer. That'll give me the time to f.u.c.k up the inquiry." As he was saying this, he thought regretfully that he had done something stupid by running to Mattos with the news that he had located Jose Silva. But for everything in life there was a remedy.

"Now get lost. I've got other things to take care of."

Teodoro left. Rosalvo went to the table where Cleyde and the fat guy were.

"Beat it," said Rosalvo, sitting down beside the fat man and showing his ID with the word POLICE in red letters.

The fat man rose, startled.

"You shouldn't be up this late . . . Pay your bill and go home. Your old lady's waiting for you."

Rosalvo took Cleyde by the arm. The orchestra was playing a bolero; he liked boleros.

As they danced: "Is that fat guy a butcher?"

"He said he's an accountant."

"An accountant of sirloins and T-bones."

"I didn't know you were a policeman."

"Now you know. The face doesn't always match the heart. That's the crux of it."

"My boyfriend is coming to pick me up at the end of the evening."

"Give him his walking papers. Like a good pimp, he knows better than to eat off someone else's plate; he'll pull in his horns."

IN THE EARLY HOURS THAT NIGHT, General Zenbio da Costa had arrived at the Catete Palace to confer with President Vargas in his office on the second floor. Also present was General Caiado de Castro. Zenbio had come to bring the president word of the extraordinary meeting of the Army High Command.

"The High Command asked me to reiterate to Your Excellence the army's firm commitment to safeguard and defend our inst.i.tutions," said Zenbio.

Vargas found the High Command's guarantees ambiguous. "The office of president of the Republic is a democratic inst.i.tution. Does the High Command have that in mind when it speaks of safeguarding and defending inst.i.tutions?"

Zenbio hesitated before answering.

"The High Command didn't go into specifics."

"Was the attack on Major Vaz discussed at the meeting? And the unjust attacks I've been receiving from the opposition?"

Zenbio continued to vacillate. "No, not during the meeting. It was discussed informally earlier, before the meeting began. Fleeting comments."

"Such as?"

"About the uneasiness among the personnel in the air force."

"The army has never given any importance to uneasiness in the air force," replied Vargas. "Or in the navy, which is the oldest and most traditional armed service. The army is the army!"

"Beyond a doubt, Mr. President."

"Can we count on all the generals in the High Command?" asked Vargas.

"Yes, Mr. President." Zenbio's broad, expressive face pathetically betrayed his nervousness.

"General Caiado?"

"Uh, I didn't take part in the meeting of the High Command, but I share the secretary's point of view," Caiado replied.

As he said goodbye, before leaving in the company of Caiado de Castro, General Zenbio added: "Your Excellence's measure of dissolving the personal guard was well received."

Vargas didn't answer. The general left and the president remained seated at the small desk on the second floor, looking out into the darkness through the windows of his office. That same day he had received, in the afternoon, the visit of Vice President Cafe Filho; the secretary of justice and internal affairs, Tancredo Neves; the secretary of education, Edgard Santos; the secretary of health, Mario Pinotti; the secretary of labor, Hugo de Faria; and Governor Amaral Peixoto. With the exception of the expression of Peixoto, who was his son-in-law, and that of Tancredo, in which he noticed primarily nervousness, in the face of all the others he had detected the same thing he had seen in Zenbio's: indecision.

TEODORO TELEPHONED Senator Vitor Freitas.

"You told me to call you at home if I had any important and urgent information."