A taxi drives by, he stops it and he gets in. There’s a pack of Lucky Strikes on the dash. What the hell. Lascano asks the driver for a cigarette, which he gives him reluctantly. He lights it and leans back in the seat. Behind him, the corner where that tragedy took place begins to drift into the past tense.
Damn!
23
Several times during the long night, Lascano is woken by the same dream. He’s stark naked and walking down a narrow corridor of fog, which seems to go on forever. Suddenly, through the haze, there emerges the greyish outline of a human figure carrying a lance adorned with multicoloured precious stones. The faceless man points the lance at him and says: If you don’t do something with your life, I’ll take it away from you.
In the morning, he cuts himself near his lip while shaving; the blood spurts out. He lets it drip down his face. Contemplating himself in the mirror, he is reminded of a vampire in a B movie, the kind he’d see in the neighbourhood theatre when he was a child and when this life he is leading was still unimaginable.
He decides to go and pick up Miranda. But first he must see Pereyra to get him to expedite the order that would make Mole’s detention a formal arrest.
When he gets to Marcelo’s office, they tell him they don’t expect him until noon. He leaves word that he will be at the Usia, the cafe in front of the courthouse on Tucuman. He leaves the Palace of Justice, enters the cafe and starts reading the paper.
He’s about to finish when Marcelo arrives, sits down in front of him and orders a cafe cortado.
How was your night? It’s still not over, I haven’t slept a wink. You know what, Pereyra? What? I’ll wager a lot of money that boy is not the Giribaldis’ son. Why? I think he was stolen. Why? Didn’t you notice last night, he never even looked at his so-called mother? And what’s that supposed to mean? In a stressful situation, a kid’ll usually look at his parents, his way of finding out what’s going on. It’s natural. Well, this one didn’t. I didn’t notice. I did. And there’s something else. What? That boy looks a lot like some people I know whose grandson was taken at Coti Martinez. You really think that’s him? Hell, I don’t know what to think. Could just be wishful thinking that those people find him. Who are they? A family in Haedo, last name Napolitano. Tell them to call me and we’ll do a DNA test. Good. I wanted to talk to you about something else, about Miranda. Who? Miranda the Mole, the bank robber…
It takes Lascano a few minutes to explain the situation. They agree they’ll give the chief of the Haedo precinct credit for the arrest and that Lascano himself will be in charge of transferring him. The prosecutor tells him that he’ll look the other way as far as his illegal detention of Miranda goes, but warns him that’s the only irregularity he’ll let slide. Lascano agrees and congratulates himself for not mentioning anything about the reward. Nor does Marcelo think to ask him his reasons for detaining him; they’ve already established a bond, common cause as enforcers of the law. Marcelo lends him his car and tells the driver and a policeman from the Tribunales police station to accompany Lascano to pick up Miranda. They get in the car and leave. A movie showing an endless series of moments of other people’s lives passes by the car window.
In the meantime, Mole is smoking a cigarette and waiting calmly in his cell. A guard walks by. In the office next to him, Peloski, the officer in charge, comes on duty, a stack of papers under his arm. Miranda calls to the guard.
Hey, kid. What’s up? Do me and yourself a favour. What? When Roberti arrives, tell him Miranda the Mole is here and that it’s important. The super is going to be grateful to you. If I see him I’ll tell him. Thanks.
Mole watches him walk away down the hallway and smiles. Peloski has overheard part of the conversation. He stops the guard as he walks by.
Who were you talking to? The prisoner. There’s a prisoner? Maldonado brought him in yesterday afternoon. He spoke with Medina, then left him here and took off.
In a quick glance Peloski checks the log. Nobody’s been booked.
What did he tell you? That when I see Roberti I should let him know that Miranda the Mole is here. He told you he was Mole? Yeah, Mole. What else did he tell you? Nothing, that Roberti would thank me. Okay. Do me a favour, go to the armoury, see if Gomez is there and send him to me. At your service, sir. We are all at God’s service.
Going to and from the armoury won’t take less than fifteen minutes. Plenty of time for what Peloski is planning. When the spring hinge shuts the door, he goes around the counter and walks the few steps down the row of cells until he sees Mole sitting there, smoking peacefully. Mole looks up and nods. Peloski has no further doubt: that’s Miranda the Mole all right. He goes back to the counter, but first he opens the door and checks to make sure there’s nobody outside in the corridor. He picks up the telephone and dials a number.
Hello, Superintendent. Peloski here… Listen. We’ve netted a very interesting fish here at the station… He’s been prepped and is ready for the grill… I’d get here right away… I know, I know, but this one’s worth the trouble… Okay… No worries… Right… I’ll expect you… Make it quick.
Lascano gets out of the car and rings the doorbell. Beba opens it immediately and steps aside to let him in. When the mutt sees him, he dashes out like a wind-up dog and lies down in his basket.
Any news? Nothing much, Beba. Last night I was present at the arrest of an army major, the man who ran Coti Martinez. Oh. So? Well, it turned out pretty bad, because before we could do anything he grabbed a gun and shot himself. Why are you telling me this, Lascano? It’s just that this major and his wife live with a boy they say is their son. Fortunately, the boy wasn’t home when it happened, but he arrived a while later. And? I can’t be sure and I don’t want to raise any false hopes, Beba… But? But that boy looks a lot like you and Eva, though I might just be imagining things. I want to see him. Look, the case is in the hands of Marcelo Pereyra, a public prosecutor. I already told him about you and he’s expecting you to call him. Here’s the number. Thank you. You’ve got nothing to thank me for and I suggest you don’t get your hopes up. I don’t think you need to suffer any more than you already have. Let me be the judge of that. As you wish. May I ask you for something? What? A picture of Eva.
Beba walks into the back room and returns a few minutes later with an instant photograph: Eva in a bikini on a terrace with sun umbrellas above a beach. The shadow of the man who took it is falling over her lap. Suddenly overwhelmed with emotion, Lascano stuffs the photograph in his pocket.
On an impulse that surprises Beba and himself, Lascano gives her a kiss on the cheek, turns on his heels and leaves the house. Just when he’s about to open the door of the car, he hears Beba calling out to him. He turns around.
Come here a minute.
Twenty minutes after Peloski’s call, Roberti enters the station. If he’d come a bit sooner, he would have crossed paths with the guard who was supposed to give him Mole’s message and whom Peloski had sent on a mission for the sole purpose of getting him out of the way. The officer smiles at the superintendent.
Who is it? Miranda the Mole. No kidding, who brought him in? Lascano, with Maldonado. Perro? The very same. I thought he bit the dust. He’s alive and kicking. Word in the force is that he’s dead. He’s working for himself. Did they book him? No, I’m telling you he’s ready for the grill. Go see for yourself. Don’t let anybody disturb us. Leave it to me, but afterwards, don’t forget your poor friends.
Peloski points his finger in the direction of the cells, as if this were necessary. Roberti takes a few quick strides down the hall. When he sees Mole he slows down, then stops. He picks up a bench that’s leaning against the wall and brings it up close to the bars of the cell where Mole is sitting peacefully and smoking.
Mole! How delightful to see you. You’ve got no idea how happy I am that you’ve come for a visit. How’re you feeling, Roberti, old friend? Very well, Mole, very well, and I’m quite sure I’m going to feel even better very shortly. There’s nothing like a man with faith. Let’s see, what shall we do: we come to some kind of understanding or I book you? What about Lascano, what do we do about him? Lascano is already taken care of. How? Perro isn’t with the force any more. He got involved with subversives. I thought they’d killed him, but it seems like he got away and now he’s slipped back. Just one more of the benefits of democracy. That means he nabbed me for nothing, the motherfucker. He screwed you big time.
Mole sits there for a moment staring off into space, his index and middle finger holding the cigarette. He tosses the butt to the floor and crushes it. He smiles.
What were you asking me? If we should make a deal or if I should book you?
