cops.'
'And then?'
'And then bring her to the tobacco shed.'
Edson had told Vicenza to be on the northeast corner of Republic Square at four o'clock. Someone would come, pick her up, and take her to him.
In her blonde wig, dark glasses, and floppy hat she felt like a character out of a spy movie. Even disguised beyond recognition, she was still getting admiring glances from males.
Five minutes after the appointed hour, a battered Volkswagen taxi stopped directly in front of her. She waved him off, but the driver wouldn't take no for an answer. Ignoring the horns and catcalls from the traffic behind him, he climbed out and opened the door on the passenger side.
'I don't want a taxi,' she said.
'You'll want this one, Senhorita Pelosi.'
The driver was well above average height, with hair that had once been blond and intelligent brown eyes.
'I'm here to take you to Edson.'
He didn't sound like any taxi driver she'd ever met. His elegant Portuguese bore a trace of a foreign accent.
'So who are you?' she asked, as they pulled away from the curb.
'I'll have to ask you to turn off your cell phone,' he said. 'It's been said they can be used to trace one's location.'
No. Definitely not a taxi driver.
She took her phone out of her purse, switched it off, and leaned over to show him the blank screen. He reminded her of someone she'd seen somewhere before but she couldn't recall where or when.
And then she remembered. 'Weren't you at the league encampment on the Muniz fazenda? Weren't you feeding a little girl with rickets?'
He glanced at her in the rearview mirror.
'I think you have me confused with someone else,' he said. 'We're going to follow a roundabout route. It will take some time to get where we're going. In the meantime, we're not supposed to talk.'
'Who says so? Who says we're not supposed to talk?'
He didn't respond.
They drove into the countryside. He stopped at the top of a hill where there was a view for kilometers in every direction. He must have been pleased with what he saw, or didn't see, because he gave a grunt of satisfaction, made a U-turn, and started back toward the city. Less than two kilometers later he came to a sudden stop and put the car into reverse. He'd missed the turnoff. It was a dirt road-not much more than a track, really-and almost obscured by vegetation. There was a sign, barely legible white paint on a wooden board: SEM SAIDA, it said. Dead end.
They drove through a little forest with tree trunks no thicker than her arm, and emerged into tobacco fields where leaves from the plants brushed both sides of the car as they passed. The track ended at a cylindrical structure, a standpipe or silo, with riveted metal walls and a domed roof. The driver stopped, got out, and opened her door.
'Edson will be along directly,' he said, speaking for the first time in many minutes.
None of the tobacco plants in the neighboring fields were taller than knee-high. There was no trace of another human being.
'You'll be taking me back?' she asked, nervous now at the isolation.
He nodded. 'But I can't stay here. This yellow car is too visible.' He returned to the taxi and drove back the way he'd come, the wheels throwing up red dust. She watched the retreating vehicle until it vanished into the trees.
Behind her, someone cleared his throat.
Her heart skipped a beat. She put her hand to her breast and spun around.
'Don't be afraid,' the young man said. He must have been hiding behind the tall metal cylinder.
Chapter Thirty-three
'They ran the ID from that guy who lives with the priest,' Arnaldo said, handing Silva the printout of an email he'd picked up at the hotel's reception desk.
'Euclides Garcia?' Silva asked, reaching for it.
'Yeah, him.'
They were in Silva's suite, waiting for news from Vicenza.
'And?' Hector asked while Silva read.
'One minor charge for assault,' Arnaldo said. 'It happened during his army days.'
'Compulsory military service?'
'Nope. Volunteer. Before that, he was a street kid. He used the military to get himself off the street, but once he was in he didn't like it. He took a swing at a superior officer. They gave him six months in the stockade and chucked him out. Other than that, nothing.'
'Any news from your sister?'
'Yup. Marly and the kids are safe and sound in Riberao, and I was wrong. She really has no idea where Edson is. I talked to her by telephone.'
'Too bad we haven't got a way to let the kid know his mother's safe,' Silva said. 'He knows that, he might come in.'
'I've got the number of Vicenza's cell phone,' Hector blurted out.
The two men turned to look at him.
'Really?' Silva said, raising an eyebrow. 'Do you now?'
'I… I asked her for it. Just in case,' Hector said, flushing.
'So call her.'
Hector tried. But there was no response.
Vicenza Pelosi sensed that Edson was holding something back, but it didn't bother her overmuch. She had enough for a great story. All she had to do now was to figure out how to present it without getting the network sued for libel. She believed everything the kid had told her but he hadn't a shred of evidence to back him up. And then, to make it worse, he pricked her balloon.
'I'll say goodbye now,' he said and pointed. 'He'll take you back.'
She heard the sound of an engine, turned, and saw the taxi appearing from among the trees.
'No, no, no,' she said. 'I need to get your story on tape. You have to come with me.'
'With Ferraz out there?' The kid looked at her as if she had some kind of mental deficiency. 'No way! I'll come in when he's locked up. Not before.'
'A chief inspector from the Federal Police is in town. I'll get him to protect you.'
The kid shook his head stubbornly. 'It's not safe,' he said.
'What if Ferraz finds you?'
'He won't. I've got friends.'
'But… but without you there's no proof.'
The kid met her eyes. 'And with me, there's no proof. Just my word against his.'
'No, it's not like that. It's-'
'It's exactly like that, Senhorita Pelosi. But now that I've clued you in on what's happening, all you need to do is to prove it.'
He made it sound easy.
'Edson, listen to me. I'm a reporter, not a cop. It's the cops who have to get the proof, and you have to help.'
'I already helped. I called you didn't I? You'd better leave now. Your car's here.'
