Crimes Of August Part 11

"He's not feeling well."

"Is he having a tizzy?" asked Clemente with a sarcastic smile.

Lomagno ignored the question.

"Cravalheira's going to have a whiskey with us while he waits for some friends who're having lunch with him," Freitas said.

The waiter brought gla.s.ses and another bottle of whiskey. They drank. They spoke about the a.s.sa.s.sination attempt that had claimed Major Vaz's life and talked about generalities. Cravalheira commented that Judge Murta Ribeiro had been chosen by lot to draft the report on the appeal of Lieutenant Bandeira, sentenced to fifteen years in prison for the death of the banker Afrnio Arsnio de Lemos, a crime of pa.s.sion that still held the city's attention. The water shortage, as always, was mentioned, but only briefly. Freitas mentioned the issuing of money by the government. "You know how much Oswaldo Aranha has issued in the last twelve months, from August first '53 to August first '54? Over eight billion cruzeiros. There's not even time for the employees to authenticate the notes manufactured by the presses at the Mint, American Bank Note, and Thomas de la Rue."

Lomagno remained silent. Claudio returned to the table.

"Feeling better, dear boy?" Clemente asked. "You look as if you might have a touch of fever."

Cravalheira returned to the subject of the a.s.sa.s.sination attempt.

"Until yesterday, or rather, until last night, the fourth, or the early hours of the fifth, when the attempt took place on Rua Tonelero, the climate in this country recalled that of 1937. But now Getlio no longer has any chance of pulling a coup."

"He wasn't going to pull any coup," said Cravalheira.

"Why do you think Getlio canceled his trip to Bolivia for the inauguration of the Santa Cruz de la Sierra-Corumba highway?" said Freitas, pouring himself another whiskey. He answered his own question, labeling as lies the reasons stated, that the Santa Cruz airport, in Bolivia, provided no security. Actually, Getlio didn't want Vice President Cafe Filho to a.s.sume the presidency.

"Like every coup-maker, he's always thinking that others are trying to pull a coup on him," said Clemente.

Cravalheira took a clipping from his pocket.

"Let me show you who this Cafe Filho is. Look at what he said."

The deputy read aloud: "My life has been one long partic.i.p.ation in revolutions and conspiracies. I've suffered a lot; I have bullets in my body."

"Poor thing," said Clemente.

"Listen to the rest. He says that the most dramatic moment in his life occurred not long ago. He was flying to Chile and the air force plane in which he was traveling had to make a forced landing among the Andean peaks. Immediately, the governments of Chile and Argentina sent planes so they could continue the trip. But Cafe patriotically reflected that this was a Brazilian Air Force plane and that changing planes in those circ.u.mstances would show lack of confidence in the technical skills of the valiant officers of the air force. He sensed, as he made this decision, the full extent of his responsibility as vice president of the Republic. When the plane was repaired, brave Cafe said he dismissed those accompanying him and embarked on the plane to die, for he was fulfilling the duty of rendering prestige to our aviation and our pilots."

Clemente sang the refrain from a well known Carnival song: "And the band of brownnosers grows and grows."

"Cafe ended the interview with these words: 'That was how I experienced my most dramatic moment, because of my mandate as vice president of the Republic. I had never imagined that such a thing would happen to me, not even during the most arduous campaigns and the most inflamed revolutions.' To think this poseur may become president."

"It's the flyboys who give the orders . . . Cafe knows which way the wind is blowing."

"Did you go the major's funeral?"

"Yes. You'd have to be crazy not to go," said Freitas.

"A public prosecutor and an air force officer were named as observers to the inquiry. There's talk that Commissioner Pastor, who's heading the police inquiry, is a Getulist."

"Speaking of police, I need to talk to you about an inspector-" Clemente stopped mid-sentence.

"What inspector?" Freitas asked.

"No, nothing. We'll talk about it later."

"Getlio's days are numbered," Freitas said.

"Getlio usually has an ace up his sleeve," said Cravalheira.

"The man's senile. Did you see the photo of him having his hair combed by Gregrio in public? He looked like an orderly at the Santa Casa da Misericrdia hospital taking care of one of those geezers who pee in their pants."

Cravalheira answered that underestimating Getlio was a mistake. "Remember the lunch-pail campaign the old man put together?"

"Borghi was the one who planned it all."

Cravalheira gave a long commentary on the opportunism and cowardice of Brazilian politicians. "Pila is an exception; he had the integrity to say that it's necessary to meet force with force. When the impeachment attempt came up, and that's only just over a month ago, only thirty-five deputies had the courage to face the Catete Palace. The only reason Getlio didn't close down Congress was because he didn't want to."

"Why didn't he want to?"

"He preferred to first divide the opposition, preparing the way for a coup. Oswaldo Aranha's waiting room at Treasury was packed with people from the UDN until yesterday. But I agree that the a.s.sa.s.sination attempt changed everything. Getlio's been put on the defensive."

"This chickens.h.i.+t political stuff bores me," said Clemente.

"He made a mistake for the first time in his life. He didn't need to waste time dividing a party like the UDN. The army would have gone along with the coup, before the a.s.sa.s.sination attempt. Now that the aviator was killed it's more difficult."

Lomagno and Claudio took no part in the conversation, maintaining an aggressive silence that finally bothered Cravalheira. The deputy, even before his lunch companions arrived, said goodbye and went to sit at another table.

"A total cretin," said Clemente. "I don't know why you waste your time on an idiot like him."

"What's the urgent problem you wanted to talk to me about?" Freitas asked.

"It's a private matter," Claudio said, looking pointedly at Clemente.

"Clemente is in on everything."

"I don't trust the guy," said Lomagno.

"Dear boy, as Vitor said, I'm in on everything. When push comes to shove, it doesn't matter in the least whether you trust me or not."

"If you call me dear boy one more time, I'll knock the daylights out of you right here," said Lomagno.

"Shut up, Clemente," said Vitor, sighing. "So, what's the problem?"

"What's the problem? What's the problem? The murder of Paulo!" exclaimed Claudio. "The largest shareholder in Cemtex now is Luciana."

"That nymphomaniacal harpy?" said Freitas.

"Don't talk nonsense," said Lomagno, with a violence that took Freitas by surprise. "You don't know Luciana," Lomagno added, controlling his unexpected rage.

"Maybe I don't, actually . . . I was just repeating-"

"Let's change the subject," Lomagno said dryly.

"I asked Magalhes to speak with Gregrio to see if he could transfer the import license to Brasfesa," Claudio said, looking timidly at Lomagno. "The Negro refused to talk to him. Magalhes is scared to death of him."

"Since Gregrio received the Maria Quiteria Medal, he's gotten even more arrogant. Absurd, giving the army's highest decoration to that guy."

"You could speak directly with Souza Dantas," Claudio said. "As president of the Bank of Brazil he gives the orders in the Cexim."

"The situation is very serious," said the senator, taking another swallow of whiskey, choosing his words with care. "The country has entered a crisis that can have grave consequences."

"The death of that aviator? It'll soon be forgotten."

"Lacerda won't let anyone forget."

"You're avoiding the subject," said Claudio, annoyed. "I asked if you'd speak with the president of the Bank of Brazil. Will you speak to him or not?"

"The attempt changed everything," Freitas said. "The military is furious over Major Vaz's death. Today there's an a.s.sembly at the Aeronautics Club, with clear-cut coup objectives. Also today, in both chambers of Congress addresses will be given condemning the attempt. Deputy Aliomar Baleeiro, who's coordinating this joint action and will be one of the deputies to speak, asked me to talk also."

"He's not going to speak to Souza Dantas. Let it go, Claudio," said Lomagno. His irritation appeared under control.

"My friend," Freitas said, "I'm from the Northeast. You know what that means? That I'm a survivor. I foresee anything bad that's going to happen. Nero Moura, the secretary of the air force, and the secretary of war, Zenbio da Costa, said there would be no a.s.sembly of military men at the Aeronautics Club. But Zenbio put elite units like the Guard Battalion and the Military Police Battalion on stand-by alert. Truth is, the military secretaries no longer have control over the younger officer corps. When generals can only command other generals, things are bad. Very bad."

"Are you or aren't you going to speak to Souza Dantas?"

"He's not going to. Let's drop the subject," said Lomagno brusquely.

"The opposition is going to take advantage of the situation. Souza Dantas was already a target before, just imagine now . . . I'll be frank with you: I don't want to be involved in this business anymore. I can't. I have to hunker down and see what's going to happen," Freitas said.

"You're in this business up to your neck," Claudio said.

"Don't let yourself be coerced, dear man," said Clemente.

Freitas stood up.

"Claudio," said the senator in an obliging tone, "in my thirty years in politics I've never made a wrong move. It won't be you, who besides everything else are my friend, and I hope you'll continue to be despite this unpleasant episode, who'll succeed in blackmailing me. You're going to have to get out of this mess on your own."

"You're nothing but a corrupt son of a b.i.t.c.h," said Lomagno.

"We're all corrupt sons of b.i.t.c.hes at this table. In this country. Let's go, Clemente."

Freitas and Clemente walked down So Jose toward Avenida Rio Branco.

"Lomagno and Claudio are a couple of b.a.s.t.a.r.ds. You ought to break it off with them."

"When the time comes. What's this story about some inspector?"

"He showed up at the Senate wanting to talk to you. He didn't say about what."

"You should have told me."

"I forgot. The guy's a low-rent piece of s.h.i.+t. You can tell by looking at his clothes."

"You should have told me."

"Do I have to remember everything?! And just where were you that Thursday afternoon?"

"What's the name of the policeman?"

"You think I remember the name of some cop who wears off-the-rack clothes?" Clemente laughed. "Two things I wouldn't be caught dead in: cheap clothes and ready-made suits." Changing tone: "I wrote his name down somewhere."

"Go look for Teodoro, Senate security. He's hoping to get a job for his wife. You can promise it to him. Tell Teodoro to find out who that cop is and what he wants with me. The whole rundown. We mustn't leave anything hanging."

The two entered the Senate together. Clemente went to look for Teodoro. Vitor Freitas, in his office, put the finis.h.i.+ng touches on the speech he was to make condemning the Rua Tonelero attack.

THAT AFTERNOON, AT THE SAME TIME Vitor Freitas was speaking in the Senate-"The nation can never forget, nor ever pardon this ignominious act"-Inspector Mattos was receiving a phone call from Antonio Carlos, of Forensics.

"The hairs on the bar of soap aren't the victim's."

"Are they a woman's?"

"A man's. A Negro."

"A Negro? Is it possible to discover that? I have the latest edition of Soderman, from 1952, and he doesn't mention that."

"Soderman is out-of-date. The tests I did are based on a study published in the latest issue of The New England Journal of Medicine. I ran all the tests. A Negro used that bar of soap and probably took a bath in that tub."

A Negro. The Aguiars' pantryman was white.

"Thank you, Antonio Carlos," said the inspector. He took from his pocket the gold ring he had found in the bathroom shower. A Negro with thick fingers.

As Mattos was about to leave, Rosalvo asked to speak with him. "Only if it's urgent," the inspector replied. He was in a hurry to get to the Deauville, where Gomes Aguiar had been murdered.

"I was here Sunday," the inspector told the doorman.

"Yes, sir. I remember."

"You were going to tell the night doorman to see me at the precinct."

"I spoke to Raimundo, sir. He didn't go?"

"You said he lives in a room in the rear. Go tell him to come here."

Raimundo appeared, looking sleepy. He was a thin man from Pernambuco, with a small brow; his hair seemed to begin just above his nose.

"Let's go to your room."

They entered a windowless cubicle with a narrow bed and a small doorless closet, inside which were piled cheap faded clothes.

"I'd like to ask you some more questions about the murder of Mr. Gomes Aguiar."

"I don't know anything. I didn't see anything, sir."