The Mystery of Rio by Alberto Mussa, Alex Ladd Read Free Book Online Page A

single mother, who gave the child to his godmother to care for when he was not even ten days old, and disappeared shortly thereafter into the far-flung corners of Bangu. The boy’s name was Aniceto Conceição—and his last name was not the only coincidence he shared with the prostitute Fortunata. Baeta, who sat next to the chief during the interrogation, detected in Aniceto many features of Fortunata’s physiognomy.
    â€œShe’s my sister, boss. Twins. She left with my mother. I stayed behind.”
    It was a typical story. Aniceto became an assistant typographer, in his father’s company. His father took him in without ever acknowledging that he was his son. When his father died, his brothers threw him out. From then on, he lived around the docks, doing odd jobs. He never saw his mother again, and only recently had he reestablished contact with his sister.
    He did not have a police record, but the officers who escorted him to Relação made sure to mention that Aniceto was well known in capoeira circles, although he had been missing from the
rodas de pernada
lately.
    â€œI was up in Alagoas, boss. It’s been about a month since I’ve been back.”
    The capoeira confirmed what Rufino had said: the seahorse-shaped earrings were payment for a service rendered, and before that they really had belonged to his sister. Obviously, such a statement, even if it did not directly cast suspicion on the witness, demanded plenty of explanation. The expert wanted to understand the relationship between the twins, since the nurses and the landlady were completely unaware of Aniceto’s existence.
    Aniceto told the story as follows: Between June 3rd (the day of his arrival) and 13th (the day of Fortunata’s disappearance) he resided in her room, and in fact she had given him the keys, giving him access to the entire second floor. His days were spent in the room, with the door locked (the landlady could not suspect his presence), and late at night he would go out to stretch his legs and have his fun, always returning before dawn.
    Fortunata had promised to help him secure some type of job through influential clients of hers. At this point in the interview, in a very suggestive tone—but a veiled threat, nonetheless—the capoeira revealed that his sister’s other life was no secret to him.
    â€œI knew where she worked, boss. I know very well what she did there.”
    Finally, on the 13th, at around 7 a.m. , Fortunata entered the room, desperate to get money and other objects, saying she needed to disappear immediately. Without any explanation, she gave him some of her jewelry and wrote a letter to be delivered to Madame Brigitte—a desire he was still reluctant to comply with, because the hastily written missive contained a confession.
    â€œI didn’t tear the letter up. It’s probably with the stuff she gave me.”
    Aniceto left the second-floor apartment shortly after his sister, and—since he had long harbored the desire to submit himself to one of old Rufino’s spells—he immediately sought him out, giving him the earrings as payment.
    The old landlady, who ran the sewing school and owned the apartment, was subpoenaed to testify. She was categorical:
    â€œI’ve never seen this scoundrel before.”
    Aniceto could prove otherwise. First, he described the house in detail: the rocking chair, the mahogany table, the statue of Saint George, facing the door, the niche in the bedroom with Saint Anthony; and the hallway niche with Saint Francis of Assisi. He also spoke of the flowerpot with its horrible yellow ribbon and of the rusty carving knife. What is more, he showed an extensive knowledge of the landlady’s habits: that she went to bed early and woke up at sunrise. He knew the names of two or three of her students, and that Sunday lunch was chicken with okra.
    The sewing teacher—who was not in the habit of prying into Fortunata’s