Crimes Of August Part 9

At the precinct were only the inspector, a cop, and the jailer in charge of the lockup. Mattos told them of Pastor's request and returned to his office.

When they were alone, the cop commented to the jailer that he'd been transferred to the precinct recently and that this was his first time on the same shift as Mattos. "He's not playing with a full deck," the cop told the jailer. "That business of kicking Mr. Ilidio in the tail means trouble. The man bankrolls the numbers game in this jurisdiction, and he's the partner of Aniceto Moscoso in Madureira . . ."

"I was inside there and didn't see what happened. Why would the inspector do something like that?" asked the jailer, shocked. After all, the money that Mr. Ilidio distributed monthly in the precinct supplemented the meager salary the cops received.

"A bookkeeper of Mr. Ilidio's was arrested, and he came here to get the man released. But Mr. Ilidio tried giving orders to Inspector Mattos; I think he didn't know who he was dealing with. The inspector's a straight arrow, he's not involved in the split of the numbers money. That was Mr. Ilidio's bad luck. He got kicked in the b.u.t.t and wound up in a cell."

"I was embarra.s.sed to lock up Mr. Ilidio, but what could I do? The inspector is G.o.dd.a.m.n tough," said the jailer.

"He's like a soul in torment, pacing from side to side all night and making faces," added the cop.

The morning newspapers ran large headlines about the attack. Students had gone on strike in "protest against criminality. Our soul is awash in opprobrium. A grave has opened, and the people will not forget." In Congress, repercussions of the attack had been enormous. Galleries in the Chamber of Deputies and Senate were packed when sessions opened in the two houses of the legislature. According to opposition congressmen, "blood ran in the streets of the capital, and there was no more tranquility in homes." Representatives of every political party had given speeches condemning the attack. Deputy Armando Falco had introduced a bill providing aid to Major Vaz's widow. Responding to Lacerda's statements, published in newspapers, that "the sources of the crime lie in the Catete Palace, Lutero Vargas is one of those behind the crime," the government leader in the Chamber, Deputy Gustavo Capanema, had taken the floor to denounce as groundless the accusations against the president's son. The crowd in the galleries had loudly booed Capanema.

After visiting the prisoners in lockup-those he hadn't been able to set free upon beginning his shift because they were awaiting trial-Mattos made entries in the blotter, signed doc.u.ments attesting to residence and poverty, and did the paperwork to send to the morgue a body found in the street.

Rosalvo came into the office.

"Is it true you a.s.saulted Mr. Ilidio?"

"You mean Ilidio the numbers boss?"

"And then threw him in the clink?"

"I don't feel well today, Rosalvo. Best not to irritate me."

"Sorry. The chief wants to speak to you about it."

Mattos entered the superintendent's office without knocking.

"You want to talk to me?"

"Sit down, Mr. Mattos. It's about the incident with Mr. Ilidio."

The inspector sat down, uneasy. Someone had told the chief what had happened. But he didn't care who it was. What was certain was that the news had gotten around.

"Well," said Mattos, "he came here to ask us to release one of his employees who'd been arrested for involvement in a scuffle. I didn't know he was a numbers racketeer. By phone I requested the record of the prisoner and the two others involved in the dustup. Since all of them were first-time offenders and fighting is nothing, shouldn't even be part of the penal code, and since the lockup was full, I decided to let everyone go. Soon after freeing the employee, who, I repeat, I didn't know until then was a lawbreaker, he stuck his finger in my face and said, 'I don't want this to happen again, you hear?' I asked the guard: 'Do you know this gentleman?' The guard answered in a respectful tone, 'He's Mr. Ilidio.' That's when I realized the guy was a bankroller for the numbers game. At that moment he turned to the guard and pointed to me and said: 'That young guy has a lot to learn.' I got irritated and kicked him and threw him in the holding pen. But he wasn't there for long. I let him go early in the morning. I released his employee first."

"You acknowledge a.s.saulting Mr. Ilidio?"

"Yes. It was a mistake. I could charge him with a 231, disrespect of authority. I lost my head."

"You know, then, that you committed the crime of unprovoked violence? Article 322, practicing violence in the exercise of office or the pretext of exercising it."

"Yes."

"Headquarters has established that suppression of the numbers game should be handled by Vice. You're aware of that, aren't you?"

For the first time, Chief Ramos had the inspector in a situation of inferiority. The pleasure he felt showed on his face.

"You also violated Article 319, failure to perform an official act to satisfy personal interest or feeling. The term for that is malfeasance. As this is your first infraction," continued the superintendent, "I'm inclined to overlook it. But I require more obedience on your part."

"Malfeasance? Unprovoked violence? Look here, Ramos, do whatever you want. But spare me the sermons. You don't have the moral standing for it."

"I'm your superior. I won't allow you to talk to me like that."

"I'll talk however I like. You protect the numbers people, you're in cahoots with them."

"I have orders from HQ to leave suppression of the numbers game to Vice," shouted Ramos.

"Everybody's been bought by numbers money. Not just you. Vice is a den of thieves," said the inspector.

"You can't-" Ramos began. The inspector turned his back and left the superintendent talking to himself.

Later, Rosalvo returned to the inspector's office.

"Mr. Ramos is p.i.s.sed off. He said you'll get what's coming to you."

"What that guy says doesn't matter to me. You can tell him that."

"How can you say that, sir?"

"At the next Marian Congregation meeting you can tell him."

"Sir, I haven't entered the Congregation yet. I'm still thinking about it. I went to a meeting last Tuesday, at the Liceu Literario Portugus, to see what it was like. There were over four hundred congregants. The president of the Catholic Archdiocese Confederation, Euripedes Cardoso de Meneses, gave a speech against Samuel Wainer's magazine Flan."

"Rosalvo, I've got other things to do."

"Those Jews who run Flan published an article that's offensive to our Catholic pride. Euripedes had come from a meeting with Cardinal Dom Jaime de Barros Cmara, at the Palacio So Joaquim, where it was decided that priests would say in their sermons that Catholics shouldn't read newspapers that support corruption. The congregants were p.i.s.sed off at the article. Euripedes asked people to send protest telegrams and letters to Flan and ltima Hora with two phrases: 'Long live the Pope!' and 'Down with ltima Hora and Flan!'"

"Long live the Pope . . . Changing the subject, what did you find out about Pedro Lomagno?"

"Just let me finish the story. Suddenly everyone at the Liceu Literario Portugus was yelling 'Long live the Pope! Down with ltima Hora and Flan!' Mr. Ramos told me that normally they ended the meeting by reciting a Salve Regina, but Tuesday there was nothing but vivas and down withs. As soon as the meeting was over, we went out into the street shouting 'Long live the Pope!' and 'Down with ltima Hora and Flan!' Suddenly we were ripping up copies of ltima Hora on newsstands in the neighborhood. You know that I'm Catholic and a Lacerdist, but I'm not a fanatic like those congregants. I think I'll tell Mr. Morais that I'm not going to enter the Congregation."

"I'm not interested in that. Talk about Pedro Lomagno."

Rosalvo took a small notepad from his pocket.

"Lomagno's father was a well known fascist who financed the Brazilian Integralist Party until 1938, when the 'green hens' attempted that putsch that failed. Then Lomagno's old man changed sides and backed Getlio, who had wiped out his party. The son was never interested in the Integralists, but it's also true that he was a young child when Plinio Salgado ran the party. In any case, the boy's thing is to make money. He was Gomes Aguiar's partner in Cemtex but never performed any function in the firm. Cemtex, according to the Tribuna da Imprensa, obtained a scandalous import license from the Bank of Brazil, through the skullduggery of a fast-buck operator named Luiz Magalhes."

Luiz Magalhes again. Mattos's stomach burned.

"Claudio is also a Cemtex partner. The way things look, our friends have been up to their necks in the same schemes from an early age. I think that's the crux of it."

"Enough of crux. Proceed."

"Lomagno plays polo at the Itanhanga Club. High-cla.s.s guy. A polo player uses four thoroughbreds during the match." Pause. "One good thing about being a cop is that you're always learning things."

"What about Jose Silva?"

"It's hard finding the boy, I mean, the thirty-year-old f.a.g he must be by now. I got hold of his old address-my brother-in-law the beadle arranged it. I don't do anything for him, but even so-"

"Proceed," Mattos interrupted.

"He lived in a house on Avenida Atlntica. I went there, and you know what I discovered? An enormous building where the house used to be. And the houses on each side had also been demolished. It won't be long before all the houses on Avenida Atlntica are turned into skysc.r.a.pers."

"Proceed."

"There's no neighborhood left where I can ask questions. I'm back at square one."

"Stop in bakeries, grocery stores, businesses on nearby streets."

"Good idea." Pause. "Did the madam come through?"

"No."

"She didn't say anything?"

"Nothing. Move ahead."

Rosalvo left. Mattos called Antonio Carlos at Forensics.

"Got anything for me?"

"We're running a complete examination of everything found at the scene. You know how long that takes. And we found a lot of stuff, trace evidence, blood, mucus, saliva, sperm, feces, urine, hair samples. All I can give you is some preliminary information."

"Start with the blood."

"The blood on the sheet isn't the same as the victim's. The victim's is AB, Rh negative. The blood on the sheet is A, Rh positive. Probably the criminal's. The victim had blood in his mouth that wasn't his. He must have taken a good bite out of his killer."

"Hair?"

"There were two hairs on the soap we found in the shower. From examining the medulla and the pigmentation of the cortex, we concluded they're not the dead man's."

"Are they from a man or a woman?"

"We don't even know for sure what part of the body they're from. We know they didn't come from the head of either a man or a woman. Or from the armpit, leg, or nostril. And they're not an eyelash or eyebrow."

"That leaves beard and mustache."

"And the s.c.r.o.t.u.m, a.n.u.s, and v.a.g.i.n.a. G.o.d made man an animal covered with characteristic hairs, just to make it hard for forensics specialists." Pause. "But I'm using a new technique in my examinations. Maybe I'll discover something."

"What about the sperm?"

"I think it's the victim's. In a couple of days you'll know everything. I'll call you."

Next, Mattos called the morgue and spoke with the medical examiner who'd conducted the autopsy.

"The bruises and hematomas of the soft parts of the neck, the muscular tearing, the lesions of the carotids, and the fracturing of the hyoid bone indicate that the guy died from strangulation. But I can't get the report to you till next week."

Shortly before Mattos ended his shift, Salete phoned to say that she'd stop by his place. She was anxious to see if Mother Ingracia's sorcery had worked. She hoped that through the old mac.u.mba woman's black magic, as soon as she entered Mattos's apartment the inspector would take her in his arms and, after a pa.s.sionate kiss, ask her to marry him.

"THIS EXCESSIVE HYDROCHLORIC ACID will be the end of me," said Mattos, opening the door to let Salete in.

"Drink a gla.s.s of milk," the girl said, disconsolate after standing with arms spread for several seconds, hoping for a show of affection from the inspector.

"I already did."

"Drink another one."

Salete opened the refrigerator. On the shelves was nothing but some bottles of milk and lots of eggs, some of them hollow. Salete, who felt repugnance toward eggs and had never eaten one in her entire life, had watched in disgust as Mattos made two small holes in the end of an egg and sucked it, "like he was a possum." Someone had told her that possums sucked eggs that way.

"I don't want milk."

"Then suck an egg. It doesn't bother me. I just won't watch."

"I'm going to chew another antacid."

Salete watched Mattos chew the antacid tablet.

"You don't . . . don't feel like it?"

"I will. In a little while."

"I'm not bothering you, am I?"

"You never bother me."

"I went to the Getlio Vargas Foundation and enrolled in the secretarial course."

"Congratulations. That makes me . . . feel like it." It was a lie.

"Let me see." Salete reached toward the inspector's pubis. He backed away.

"In a little while. In a commentary on the Talmud, a scholar known as Raba said that the erection of the male member can only occur with 'the aid of reason.'"

"You read that in that book?" Salete pointed to the book the inspector had just picked up.

"A different one."

"I think you read too much. Dona Floripes said that a man who frequented her house went crazy from so much reading. He wanted the girls to pee on him."

"If I go crazy, I promise not to ask you to urinate on me."

"You should do other things. You should dance. Dancing is good for the head."

"On top of everything else, the doorman told me the water is going to be out until six o'clock. Let's wait."

The doorbell rang.