“I’m not a customer,” she said. “I just dropped by for a chat with Samuel. You go ahead.”
Hector would have preferred to question Arns on his own, but he could hardly tell her to leave. He bit the bullet by showing his badge.
When she saw the flash of gold metal, the woman took in a sharp breath. Cops sometimes had that effect on people, particularly on people who enjoyed a juicy bit of gossip.
One of those, Hector thought-and turned his back in an attempt to exclude her from the conversation.
“Delegado Costa, Federal Police. I’m assuming you’re Samuel Arns?”
The locksmith looked over Hector’s shoulder and exchanged a quick glance with the woman. Hector could practically feel her eyes burning into his back.
“I am,” Arns said. “What do the Federal Police want with me?”
“It’s our understanding you recently changed some locks for Senhora Juraci Santos. Is that right?”
“I did, Delegado. I do it all the time. She’s a regular customer, changes locks every time she changes servants.”
“And that’s often?”
“Fortunately for me, it is.”
“This particular job was on Thursday of last week.”
“I remember.”
“How many sets of keys did you make?”
“Four. It’s always four.”
“This time as well?”
“This time, every time.”
“You sound very sure.”
“I am. Senhora Santos always buys the best. The locks on all her external doors are Medecos. They’re imported, virtually pickproof, but they’re expensive, and I don’t sell a lot of them. They come with two keys. If you want to make extras, you need special blanks. I stock them just for her.”
“Suppose someone wanted to make another copy of one of those keys. Suppose you weren’t here, and they needed the copy in a hurry. How could they go about it?”
“They’d go into town.”
“Where in town?”
“Their best bet would be one of the big locksmiths on Avenida Sao Joao. Those guys keep blanks for every conceivable type of lock, Medecos included. Why are you asking?”
“We think the kidnappers used a key to get into Senhora Santos’s house.”
“But…” It was the woman again, speaking from behind Hector’s back.
Hector turned to face her. “But what?”
“I read in the paper they’d smashed the door to her house.”
“They did.”
“Then why did you want to know how many keys Samuel made?”
“Yeah,” Samuel said. “Why? You think maybe they got in some other way? You think they used a key?”
“Maybe.”
The locksmith shook his head. “Sounds crazy to me. If that’s what they did, why would they go to the trouble of smashing the door?”
“He knows something,” the woman said, pointing at Hector. “Something that wasn’t in the papers. Is that right, Delegado?”
“It’s just a theory we’re working on.”
“But what would make you think-”
“Please, Senhora. With all due respect, I’m not here to answer your questions. I’m here to ask them of this gentleman.”
She reddened. “Yes, yes, of course,” she said. “Sorry.”
Hector turned back to the locksmith. “Any idea why she always asked for four sets of keys?”
“One for her, one for the servants, one for her son and one extra.”
“And anyone who had one of those keys could have had it duplicated?”
“Yes, they could. There are certain keys that you can’t duplicate, and other ones you aren’t supposed to duplicate, but Medecos don’t fall into either category. The only problem in duplicating a Medeco is to get your hands on a Medeco blank.”
Hector thought about it. Lefkowitz had found three sets of keys in Juraci’s house. One had been in her office. That must have been the extra set. One was in the purse of one of the maids. That would be the servants’ set. One was in Juraci’s purse. Her set. That left the set that had been made for her son. He sure as hell wouldn’t kidnap his mother. But who was to say that someone hadn’t used Tico’s set? Or copied it?
Perhaps a line of inquiry into Madeco blanks might lead to something. If they couldn’t come up with anything else, they could always try that.
“Who do you get the blanks from?” he said.
“The importer.”
“There’s only one?”
“Only one. That’s how they manage to keep the prices as high as they do.”
“Can you give me the name and address of those people?”
“Sure.”
Samuel Arns went into the back. The woman, visibly chastised, didn’t say a word while he was gone. A minute or so later the locksmith came back with a piece of paper. He held it out to Hector.
“It’s a reliable firm,” he said. “One of the oldest.”
Hector took the paper and glanced at it. Arns had printed out an address and telephone number in a clear, legible hand. The importer was in Sao Paulo. That, at least, was a break. Hector couldn’t think of anything else to ask the locksmith, so he bid him and the red-faced woman a good day, went out to his car and called-in a report to his uncle.
Chapter Eleven
Pedro Cataldo looked to be five kilograms heavier than the last time they’d seen him, maybe more. The extra weight was straining the buttons on his shirt.
“Jesus, Pedro,” Arnaldo said, eyeing his gut, “you-”
“-need an exercise bicycle. Yeah, I know. How are you guys?”
“More important,” Silva said, “How are you? You deserve a medal for putting yourself through all this.”
“Forget the medal. I’d settle for a day on the beach, or even a walk in the park. Maybe it’s some kind of poetic justice. I’ve sent away a lot of people in my time. Now, I’m getting a taste of my own medicine.”
“Poetic justice, my ass,” Arnaldo said. “They deserved it. You don’t.”
Cataldo flashed him a sad smile. “There’s that,” he said. “Coffee?”
“No sugar,” Silva said.
“I remember. I remember yours, too, Arnaldo. Lots of sugar, lots of milk, right?”
“Right.”
Cataldo, busying himself with the cups, pointed with his chin.
“You guys take those chairs. I’ll sit on the bed.”
Pedro Cataldo was forty-two years old, a federal judge condemned to death by the people he was trying to bring to justice. In over a year, he’d left the office-where he worked, slept and ate-only twice, both times because it was strictly necessary, both times wearing a bulletproof vest, and both times riding in an armored car accompanied by armed guards.
In the course of the previous eighteen months, he’d condemned 114 people to a total of 919 years and six months of prison. He had, in addition, confiscated twelve fazendas totaling 12,832 hectares, three mansions, one valued at almost six million Reais, three apartments, three houses, dozens of vehicles and three aircraft, all bought
