Lauro Tadesco.
Topaz even remembered his last name, probably due to some kind of fantasy on her part, a fantasy of getting out of the life, seeing herself as Senhora Tadesco, set up in a house of her own with a couple of kids. Well, that was behind her now. She wouldn’t be talking to Lauro Tadesco anymore.
The Goat shook his head at the gullibility of both of them; Lauro’s even more than Topaz’s.
“Who the hell needs to impress a whore? Who even cares what a whore thinks? This Lauro, he must be some kind of religious freak.”
Claudia mulled it over. If Lauro was feeding information to Silva, there might be a way to use him to bait a trap. She thought about discussing her emerging plan with The Goat, then rejected the idea. He wasn’t as threatened as she was, and he wouldn’t be as likely to consider extreme measures.
Marta Malan had been talking for almost an hour, first to the couple who’d picked her up, now to the fat guy who wanted her to tell the whole story all over again. Everything she’d said was true, but she’d left a few things out. For one thing, she didn’t feel obligated to explain the true nature of her relationship with Andrea. That was nobody’s business but their own. She said that Andrea had been sold off because she was too old, but didn’t mention that it was also because she was no longer a virgin. She did mention her grandfather. That had impressed the first two, and it seemed to impress the man who was interrogating her now. His eyebrows had gone up when she said it.
She took another sip of her third cafe com leite. He didn’t press her, just sat there, silently, waiting for her to go on.
“I turned left on the main road,” she said. “There wasn’t much traffic at that time of the morning. The first set of headlights I saw, I panicked. They were coming from behind me, and I thought it might be that brute I’d left back at the house. I crawled into the brush to hide.”
She looked down at the old-fashioned cassette recorder he was using to take her statement, felt her eyelids drooping. Now that the danger was over, adrenaline was no longer keeping her awake. Any moment now, she was liable to fall asleep right there at the table. Her throat was dry from talking. She took another sip of coffee and continued. “When daylight came, I went to look for a stretch of road where I could see the cars coming from a long way off. As soon as I was sure it wasn’t that woman, or her capangas, or The Goat, or his girlfriend, I’d step out and try to flag them down. Nobody stopped. They must have thought I was a thief, or a prostitute, or something. I got so sick of it that when I saw that couple coming, I went out and stood in the center of the road. They had to either stop or drive over me. They stopped. And they brought me here.”
The fat man pushed the button to stop the tape.
“They did the right thing,” he said, “and so did you. Now, why don’t you lie down in my office and get some rest while I get busy and do my job?”
Marta felt a glow of satisfaction. They were in trouble, all of them, and they were going to pay for what they did to her and to Andrea. She thought about asking the fat man if she could use his telephone.
But she was tired, so very tired, after her long ordeal. She’d have a short nap first. Then she’d call her mother.
Otto was on the dock, waiting for them. While Hans was still tying off the mooring lines, he climbed on board and rushed up to Claudia.
“It’s the little bitch,” he said. “She’s gone. Escaped. Took the fucking door right off the hinges.”
“And where were you?!”’
“Sleeping.”
“Sleeping it off is more like it! How long has she been gone?”
“Hell, I don’t know. I told you, I was-”
She wanted to scratch his eyes out, tell him what a stupid, incompetent bastard he was, but there was no time to lose. She swallowed her anger and said, “Come along, both of you.” She jumped onto the dock and started hurrying toward the house. They followed a few paces behind. “We’ll take the boat,” she said, without looking back. “You, Hans, take some plastic garbage bags and fill them with food from the kitchen. You, Otto, get the camera, lights, recording tape, anything else that looks incriminating. I’ll get my papers and the cash I’ve got on hand. Hurry, both of you.”
The telephone was ringing when they opened the back door. Hans stopped to pick it up. Claudia rushed toward Marta’s room to see things for herself. She was standing there, cursing, when Hans handed her the wireless phone.
“Chief Pinto,” he said. “Says it’s urgent.”
Claudia took the phone and put it to her ear.
The chief was in the best of moods. “Hello, Carla,” he said, “I hear you lost something.”
“You heard what?”
“Yeah,” the chief said. “Listen to this.”
She heard a click then Marta’s voice: “As soon as I was sure that it wasn’t that woman, or her capangas, or The Goat, or his girlfriend, I’d step out and try to flag them down. Nobody stopped. They must have thought I was a thief, or a prostitute, or something. I got so sick of it that when I saw that couple coming, I went out and stood in the center of the road.”
There was another click.
“Where is she?” Claudia said.
“Sleeping in my office. She’s gonna have, as they say, a rude awakening.”
“ That’s really funny,” Hans said.
He pushed aside the bag he’d half-filled with canned goods and reached for the bottle of cachaca. Otto shoved his glass forward for a refill.
“It’s not funny at all,” Claudia said. “It’s sheer luck. What if the little bitch had run into the federals first? What if she’d made a telephone call before they dropped her off at the delegacia? Where would we all be then? Tell me that!”
“We’d be in deep shit,” Hans said. “But she didn’t, so we’re all right.”
“We’re not all right. We’ll only be all right when those federal cops are no longer a threat. I want them dead.”
“If we kill them, the feds are gonna go ballistic. They’ll send ten more.”
“But it won’t be Silva or Costa, because they’ll be dead, and that’s the way I want it.”
Lines creased Hans’s forehead. He rubbed his chin.
“It’s something personal between you and them, isn’t it?” “That’s none of your damned business.”
“Killing a few whores is one thing,” Hans said. “Killing a federal cop is heavy, really heavy. Why don’t we just clear out and go somewhere else?”
“And have them on our trail forever? No, we’re going to kill them. Then we’ll clear out and go somewhere else.”
Hans polished off his drink and cast a glance at Otto. Otto didn’t open his mouth, didn’t even move his eyes, but Hans nodded as if he’d voiced an opinion. He turned back to Claudia.
“We’re not gonna do it,” he said. “You can’t kill three federal cops and get away with it. Those fuckers are re… rel…” He furrowed his brow. He couldn’t think of the word, so he said it another way. “They don’t give up. And when they catch up with you, they don’t just slap the cuffs on you. They get payback. And then they kill you. Get somebody else to kill the federals. Then Otto and me will kill them. Make the trail a dead end.”
Claudia taunted him. “Scare you, do they? The federals?” Hans didn’t bite. “You’re goddamned right they do.”
He would have said something else, but just then the doorbell rang.
“There they are,” Claudia said.
The chief looked rumpled, as if he’d been awakened far too early, but there was a broad grin on his face.
Not so Marta. She was in handcuffs, her face pinched and pale, her eyes bloodshot.
“Welcome home,” Claudia said.
“ Vai tomar no cu, ” Marta snapped. Go fuck yourself.
Claudia would have slapped her for her insolence, but she didn’t want to give the chief the satisfaction of seeing her lose her temper. Pinto rubbed a thumb against his forefinger, making the sign for money.
