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

life and did not have a copy of the key to her room—was speechless. Aniceto took the opportunity to return her keys to her. She exited, pale, trembling, cursing her former tenant’s treachery and lack of morals.
    The capoeira had recently moved into a rooming house near Harmonia Square. Officers escorted him there in order to examine the evidence. And, sure enough, there was the letter, which said the following: “I made a silly mistake. It wasn’t on purpose. Please forgive me. And thank you for all you’ve taught me.” It was signed, very visibly: “Fortunata.” Below, in a postscript of sorts, the prostitute prayed for the secretary’s soul, citing the deceased by name.
    Later on, witnesses from the House of Swaps recognized the jewels found in Aniceto’s possession as having belonged to the prostitute. Baeta was also able to attest that the signature on the letter was authentic by comparing it to the forged reports that Dr. Zmuda regularly asked the nurses to sign, as a precaution.
    The expert also asked if the capoeira could give the names of any of his acquaintances who were also friendly with Fortunata.
    â€œI never mentioned her, boss. Who mentions a sister who’s a whore?”
    Â 
    In one of those old taverns in Santa Rita Square—or, more precisely, on the corner of old Cachorros Alley, in a dark and smoky room, where voices were never elevated above a whisper—the Brotherhood of the First District, sucking on their cigarettes and drinking cachaça after a strenuous day on the job, discussed the case of the English Cemetery.
    The first lieutenant, who had been present at the forensic analysis of the allegedly violated grave, was lamenting a fatal error, which, according to him, could definitely have compromised the investigation.
    â€œThe first time around, we didn’t count the bodies. We just checked to see if they were male.”
    This was his thesis: the police had started from a false premise—i.e., that Rufino had killed the prostitute and hidden the body in the mass grave. After forensics had done their job, since no female cadaver had been exhumed, the conclusion was that no crime had been committed. However, the lieutenant had a different theory: the old man had opened the grave and robbed a corpse to carry out some abominable spell, and for this he received the pair of gold earrings. And then, before the 23rd, he returned the body to the grave. Therefore, during the second inspection, the number of dead matched the records.
    â€œAnd why didn’t you ask for a count?”
    It simply had not occurred to him. Perhaps the sinister environment, the fear of contracting the plague, the disgust of seeing those bodies piled up, explained the urgency with which everyone had dealt with the situation.
    â€œAnd where does Fortunata fit in?”
    She did not. For the lieutenant, such speculation was not acceptable. Rufino had to be arrested for multiple counts of grave robbery. And he reminded them of the public commotion over the recent cases, never solved, of stolen cadavers, in which suspicions were raised about the presence of necrophiliacs inside the police morgue.
    â€œIt’s time to put that thief behind bars!”
    The officers, however, believed the old man. These were honest cops, almost all of them, but possessed of an excessive honesty, bordering on mysticism. The fact that they came, most of them, from the same environment, were raised amid those same criminal characters they arrested, still weighed on them. Many consulted
alufás
and
mães-de-santos
, cropped their hair close, attended
jira dos catiços
to call on spirits, lit votive candles on Mondays. They had associated with capoeiras, gone to the
batuque
and
pernada
circles. They had, naturally, acquired the vice of gambling, and they did not just bet on the
jogo do bicho
, they also played in illegal card games with heavy pots. Intellectually, they