Angels - the Judith's secret

A frizzing cold, a mist, hangover, a wife that doesn't know how to make coffee, one whole week ahead; a shitty workplace, and today is only Tuesday. I don’t have reasons to return the “good morning” of my esteemed colleague sitting outside the prison, looking at butterflies. Faggot! And, in fact I will not give him good morning.

  — Being grumpy doesn't take you anywhere.

  — I got a hangover and a headache. That is all!

  He laughed without taking the eyes from the butterflies surrounding the police station’s garden.

  — Does the so called sorcerer have any relatives that may help him?

  — No. The woman that lived with him disappeared and left him with a daughter to raise by himself, but the girl is at his church’s shepherd house.

  — How old is she?

  — Maybe six or seven, why?

  — I need arguments, and this may be vital.

  I tried not to think anything stupid, because after him saying the things that went through my mind, and watching him observe the empty corners of the bar, and after David joking about a possible pact with the devil, I got even more suspicious. Today he will try to speak with the sorcerer… I think I am in some terrible mess.

  The sorcerer was no longer a sorcerer. He was now an evangelical and no longer desired to be called a sorcerer. In the last years he walked around in suit and tie, with a bible on his hands. His conversion drew many followers to that church exactly because he was considered an expert in rituals and voodoos.

  Then, three weeks ago, a group of evangelicals decided to preach on the square, a little further from the final bus stop. People gathered around; there were even some catholic. Imagine: a collective worship where exactly the catholic and the parish house are located! No priest would like to see an event like this so close to his home. Especially the priest in our church.

  Father Lázaro is very conservative and had the power to keep the discipline with a simple look. I am a big fan! If everyone else had the culture that he has, the world would be different.

  All of a sudden the priest appeared on the blue frame of the window on the top floor of the parish house, where we could see clearly the evangelical gathering. Then, it was easy to predict what would happen only by observing his cranky appearance and clenched hands: things would not be easy on that square. While the evangelicals prayed, right in the middle of the “Glory, Hallelujah”, “Amen, Lord” and other things, the priest showed up with a hard stick and attacked. Everyone started running everywhere; even the dogs at the square got hit. I have never seen someone hating animals as much as him. I laughed hard!

  Since every evangelical is “weak”, not one of them stood against the priest. Instead, those responsible for the event requested everyone to go back to their homes and reflected on what had just occurred.

  “The devil disguises himself as an angel of light, but deep down he just wants to rule God’s kingdom!”, said the shepherd directly at the priest, who replied yelling “Misbelievers!”.

  It was then when Josias, the sorcerer, could no longer take the insults and, when everyone walked away in silence, turned and yelled:

  — You have not heard the last of this! — Walking backwards, raising his forefinger and repeating the threat wildly and loudly.

  And Judith, one of the catechists of the catholic church, was walking on the opposite direction of the evangelicals. She was at a cousin’s house walking without direction and did not know about any of this up to that point. When she faced the crowd in the middle of the streets and realized that evangelicals were returning, she decided to walk through them with her head down.

  And there Judith went, looking down, walking and avoiding the mass of people angry at the city’s priest behavior. And, consequently, she did not see the one walking backwards — it was Josias yelling “You have not heard the last of this!”.

  That is, they could not see each other, and inadvertently, they bumped into each other strongly. The sorcerer, stumbling, fell over the feet of an elderly woman before hitting the pavement. The old woman twisted her ankle and had to be sent to the hospital in pain. Judith did not fall down thanks to a car parked to which she had hold on to. Josias, that nearly flipped back due to the fall, got up more angry than ever, looked straight to the careless catechist with a deep wrath and mumbled something in a strange language — almost a curse. This turned into a gossip around town…

  One week later, Judith showed up dead on the parish house yard, with a violent bump to the back of the head. Her body was found inside of an hexagonal star deeply engraved on the ground.

  To me, this is some heavy voodoo followed by a pagan sacrifice, and worse, I just figured out that this detective came with the objective of saving the sorcery colleague. Probably they are from the same sect!

  The sorcerer, after the conversion, brushed his hair and shaved constantly, however after the arrest he got sloppy and went back to the old look, looking more like a tramp. He was held apart from the other prisoners because none of them wanted to be his cell mate for his bad reputation, and we agreed with the poor bastards. What if he puts a curse on the other prisoners?!

  When opening the door I realized that Clóvis was awfully focusing his eyes at one of the corners of the prison cell, while the sorcerer was laying down in one of the beds, barefoot, observing a fixed point beyond. However, it looked like both of them were hearing the same whispering; something mystical, bizarre and invisible. The detective entered and faced the sorcerer. I stayed out of the cell.

  — Good morning! — greeted the detective, who got no reply — Josias, my name is Clóvis and I am here with the mission of getting you out of this mess, however, I need your help. I came from far away to investigate deeply this murder, but I need your cooperation, do you understand?

  The sorcerer was not even a little bit moved with the presence of that man, who was his only chance of freedom. He didn’t even blink. While Clóvis asked the questions and talked about the advantages of an open dialogue to clarify some topics of the investigation, Josias seemed inaccessible. The detective started telling emotional and philosophical stories, trying to keep a conversation with the prisoner — without success, though. And time passed by.

  After using several arguments, Clóvis remained in silence for a while. After wasting his breath talking about justice, hope, freedom… and he even mentioned the bible, without success! It would be best to shut up anyway.

  — You have a daughter, right?

  The sorcerer starred at the detective and went from indifferent to frightened, as if the detective had just touched his sore point.

  — If your life is meaningless now — he continued —, stay alive for her. Use her as your reason to live.

  A whisper. Sufficient to see that the detective was feeling defeated. He got up and waited for the cell to be open by me. As soon as I unlocked it, the sorcerer mumbled:

  — Does it make any difference?

  Clóvis made a gesture so that I would keep quiet and the sorcerer continued:

  — Does it make any difference if I am guilty or innocent? People look at me with fear on their eyes, the friends I had, left me. Everyone act as if they never met me, I am a nobody now. Does it make any difference if I am guilty or innocent? Life sucks. Human beings suck. I was at the top of my happiness and they threw me in the gutter. I had fought for my ideals, I had fought for a dignified life, I changed the way I think and dress. What changed? Nothing! I feel the devil mocking me; I feel the contempt in people’s eyes; I lost the sense of life. God has forsaken me, this is what happened. No, I rather accept that I am heading to darkness. Certainly, it must be better than keep living in this unfair world.

  — Maybe you are being tested, — Clóvis interrupted him — as Job also was. Do you know the Job’s history. The devil doubted of his wisdom and God took away everything that he had: his family, flock and health. Job’s faith remained unshaken; and the devil lost the bet. What you are going through doesn't come close to the suffering of that Job went thro
ugh.

  — He was his favored! — he replied — What about me? Who am I before God?

  — Another son, as many others, however that insists in feeling worst than Job and the rest of the world. This is what people do. Any abnormality that takes place quickly is transformed into a storm.

  — You say this because you are not in my shoes! I live by myself and I do not have an alibi to prove I was home on the day of the murder. Innocent or not, I feel like a looser, and this is embarrassing. No one will offer to help you if you have no longer a reason to live.

  — Then, pretend that you are dead already and live on behalf of others! Your daughter needs help. Will you be this coward and abandon her lost in this?

  — She has a church that may take good care of her.

  — But she doesn't have you! Or do you think that you may be easily replaced as this?

  The sorcerer acted in disdain and went back on starring at the floor. Clóvis, again, look defeated.

  Good they finally shut up; to me they were talking Greek. The detective, after that instant of silence, looked again to the corner.

  — On the day of your accident with the catechist, you mumbled something in another language. May you translate what you said?

  — “You have not heard the last of this!”, but in an African dialect. It was a moment of weakness, further, of rage! That priest should not have acted in that way. Otherwise, no one would have planned this crime and I wouldn’t be in this situation. It is coming to him and no one will save his soul. Sometimes I feel that this day is near.

  — There are people that act as they please, reach the extreme without realizing how ridiculous they are being, it is normal, including for priests. You cannot blame him for being here.

  — Who do I blame?

  — Do you have any opinion on who may have killed Judith?

  — No. I barely knew her. She never hurt anyone, and I had never wished for her death, much less for that incident. I have no idea who killed her.

  — What about you, do you have enemies?

  — I am not what people say around. — he snapped.

  Clóvis kept quiet and with his eyes open, focusing on something. Minutes later, he thanked for the cooperation and left. O immediately locked the cell, without looking inside.

  — Odd — said the detective outside the police station. — Very odd indeed!

  — What is odd?

  — A simple man. He must not know a lot about African dialects nor about sorcery.

  — Are you inferring that he doesn't know another language?

  — Exactly.

  — Are you telling me he was never a true sorcerer?

  — Are there any true sorcerers?

  — Well, then, what do you think it is “very odd”?

  — I could not unveil anything.

  — Unveil what?!

  — Never mind. I am just thinking out loud. — he said lost — We need to visit the parish house.

  We got into my Variant and went. The detective got down and concluded no one was there, once the windows and doors were closed.

  — Is Tuesday the day to visit people at the rural areas? — I asked myself — However, it is likely that one of these catechists is around here.

  — Do you know where Judith’s sister lives at?

  — At Mundo Velho. Why?

  — Let’s go there.

  — Don’t you want to see if there are any of the catechists in the church?

  — We will come back here later.

  Mundo Velho is a place with houses and farms far from each other. It is so vast that it was divided in two, Mundo Velho de Cima and Mundo Velho de Baixo. The low vegetation creates a typical savanna landscape. Besides being arid, it is a mountain region, without rivers or forests. In short, there are only dust, , cattle grids and streamlets.

  — How did you know that Judith had a sister?

  — The owner of the hotel told me.

  I kept quiet. At this point he must know already her age, what she likes to eat, her zodiac, if she is married, single or widower and even the way to her home.

  The detective began looking at the Variant: this is what I was afraid of. The entire panel dusty and the tape deck without the knobs called the attention immediately. However, he kept a smile that highlighted his cheeks.

  — A tape deck! — he joyfully exclaimed — It has been a while since I saw one of this in a car!

  People from big cities are like that: they enjoy the last generation equipment and then come laughing of our things.

  — Does it work?

  I turned it on without saying a word. I just had to turn the pin where before existed the knob that my youngest son, Gabriel, had swallowed with maize.— A relic, isn’t it?! — he exclaimed.

  I bought the tape from some street seller for a couple of bucks that I had in my pockets. He was joking me, for sure. Clóvis boosted the volume. It reproduced with some interference a song by the Beatles: “While My Guitar Gently Weeps”. This is my favorite, because of the guitar weeping.

  After a while, Clóvis began to make some notes in a black book.

  — What the hell are you doing? — I asked.

  — I am writing a book.

  — Book?

  I tried to ignore the fact observing the mist that was still there, what kept the weather looking fresh, but I was already drenched in sweat and troubled with the hangover keeping my mouth always dry.

  After seven or eight farm gates, we got to Judith’s sister home, a plain and isolated location. The house was kind of cute; it was only missing some maintenance on the roof. To me, the most important thing was the tangerine plantation — those fruits eased my indisposition.

  I got off the car and went straight to the plantation, while Clóvis clapped his hands together until someone showed up. A skinny lady with her face wrinkled by the actions of time, looked at him with surprise through the window, trying to acknowledge the visitor. I noticed she was scared.

  — Miss Ruth, I am here at the plantation picking up some tangerine!

  — Isaías! — grumbled in relieve. — Is that you?

  Miss Ruth was still traumatized by her sister’s death. She practically lives alone in the middle of nowhere and spend all time taking care of her property. It is understandable someone panicking in face of strangers coming close, because she, as well as the rest of folks in Rio Vermelho, believes that the sorcerer had accomplices to kill and take Judith’s body to the back of the parish house. Accomplices that have not been found yet.

  Miss Ruth, friendly, invited us in. I picked up some tangerines and got in.

  In the kitchen a big table dominated the center of the room. We sat down, and Clóvis, as usual, started looking to the corners and saying that crap about what he was there to investigate, and all. After, they talked a little about how cold it was during the mornings and the heat in the afternoons, well, that chitchat to get intimate to the poor lady. That was when he popped the fundamental question:

  — Do you have any enemy, for any reason, that may have committed such cruelty?

  — Only the sorcerer! — She replied certain — That bastard walked around with the bible in his hands, but deep down he was just a false religious man! He tricked a lot of simple folks, making them to convert to that church. I even suspect that the shepherd himself that helped him kill my sister! I don’t know if you noticed the look of wizard he has. One time…

  Miss Ruth started babbling about the shepherd. I forgot to tell, Her mouth runs a mile a minute. Old people are like that.

  — Any boyfriends?

  — Judith had her last boyfriend a couple of years back — she answered.

  — Did they broke up?

  — He went to the United Stated and stayed there.

  — Does he keep contact?

  — Only with his family.

  Miss Ruth looked like she did not want to talk about it and lowered gradually her voice, while the detective contemplated the huge table. Al
though seeing that his restless eyes were fixed at the central portion of that table, I had the impression that it wasn’t the table he was contemplating. It looked like he was trying to hear something, or that he was actually hearing it… it was odd.

  — I miss my sister a lot — cried Miss Ruth, changing the subject — She used to help me a lot, actually, she helped us all. She was always at the mass, helped in the distribution of food, she taught at catechism, help in organizing the asylum…

  Clóvis comforted her so that she would not cry. Miss Ruth even got better, but kept on going.

  — Next Sunday it would be Judith’s birthday. She was twelve years younger than I. After I was born, my mother had a complication in her uterus and she could only get pregnant again with a treatment, and she had Judith. Since her pregnancy was a high-risk pregnancy, the doctor prohibited her of having more children.

  While she kept on telling stories, from time to time Clóvis looked around, focusing on other things until he was convinced that his trip to Mundo Velho was a waste of time.

  — Well, Miss Ruth, we are leaving — he said, carelessness — We need to look at Judith’s home. Do you have the keys with you?

  — I have it with me, but you may take it. Later, if it is not too much trouble, you may leave the keys with Tobias, my godson, and ask him to get someone to clean the house, it must be all dusty. Isaías knows him.

  — We will only take a look at it with respect to her private life, ok?

  — Ok, feel free to do so, and that justice is made! — concluded Miss Ruth, excited with the detective’s presence.

  She gave a keychain to Clóvis while I was already leaving. My hurry was such, that I even forgot to throw away the tangerine peel on the table.

  In our way back to the city, the detective made no other notes and kept on focused on what Judith’s sister had just reported.

  — Have you met Judith’s former boyfriend?

  — Samuel? Yes, I have. His parents live in the city of Paulista. He was a quiet guy, well-dressed, even being a carpenter and helping his father to work the land. He went to the United Stated and stayed there.

  — Weird, isn’t it?

  — No. He went away with a bunch of crazy guys with the intention of getting rich washing dishes in restaurants. This was more than two years ago and a lot has changed since then. What is weird about it?

  — Details are important — he said.

  Once again I felt the urge of throwing him out of the car, however it is best to let it go, I don’t want to take the chance of him reading my mind again. Clóvis smiled with mystery.

  We got back to Rio Vermelho. I left the car downtown and went home. It was lunch time.

  I had lunch and took a nap. I was tired and, after a heavy meal, it would be normal to pass out on the sofa, wouldn’t it?

  I woke up with the telephone ringing — It was Clóvis calling me to work. My lunch hour has passed by and no one woke me up in time. Since I discuss at home because no one cooperates with me, everything is like I was some ignorant in the family!

  My oldest son, Matheus, for example, is already seventeen, he knows damm well the time I go to work, and the only thing he knows how to do is playing videogames. Does this pay off? As older he gets more irresponsible he is.

  I washed my face and ran down to meet with the detective. Let us continue the investigation that, certainly, will come to nothing. I really think that the killer is the sorcerer anyway.

  Clóvis got into the car with a inexpressive smile and said “What’s up?!”, like a teenager. I hate slangs, therefore I remained in silence and pick up the road without starting a conversation.

  A bull skull adorns the center of the gate of Moisés’ home. The skull, varnished, have long horns, in a curled shape and tied up tightly with some wire. People say it keeps away evil-eyes, and Moisés is full with superstition. Superstition and dogs. I have never seen someone with so much liking of dogs.

  Moisés’s son showed up and ordered the mastiffs to go inside. He speaks all possible dirty words, I'd rather be deaf.

  His name is Abel. With long and damaged hair, weird clothing, lazy and a hustler. Despite of this, he had an athletic shape, broad shoulders and loved to walk around without a shirt on to show off his hairy chest. He has been in and out of jail several times for public disorder.

  That demonstration, certainly, was to demonstrate he was not afraid of us; but as soon as he locked the dogs, I got off the car and demonstrated my superiority.

  — Good afternoon, we are looking for Moisés — said Clóvis.

  — What for? — he replied stupidly.

  — We are investigating Judith’s murder, and we want to know about Samuel.

  — Samuel is in the united States.

  — We know! — said Clóvis, in a more aggressive tone — We are looking for Moisés and not Samuel. Do you get it?!

  For a minute they stared each other.

  — He is working in the back.

  We got in through the garage that took to a messy carpentry where everything was half done. There were closets, wardrobes, tables, chairs and the air was filled with a smell of chopped wood.

  We saw, then, on a corner, Moisés working in a chair so slowly that it was easy to see that his thoughts were far from there.

  — Good afternoon, Moisés!

  — Good afternoon.

  — My name is Clóvis, and we are here to ask you some questions. This is Isaías. Do you know him?

  — Who doesn’t? — he exclaimed roughly — Questions about what?

  — About your son that went to the United States. Nice chairs, uh? — said, Clóvis, trying to be friendly with the poorly finished work of the carpenter.

  — Thank you. Did anything happened to my son?

  — No! We just want to know how his relationship with Judith was and why they broke up.

  — Ah, Judith! I got thinking they would get married, but my son decided to go abroad and… well, things ended up.

  — They used to fight a lot? — asked Clóvis, observing the upper portion of a unfinished wardrobe.

  — No.

  — Samuel was jealous?

  — No.

  — Did he had low self-esteem?

  — No.

  — do you know about any fight between them?

  — No, they got along just fine.

  — Are you sure?

  — Yes!

  After a moment of silence, Clóvis looked to Moisés and then to a table far ahead.

  — Why, exactly, he went so far away? — questioned the detective.

  — To have a better financial status. As everyone does!

  — You are hiding something — said the detective.

  — What do you mean?! — grumbled the old man.

  — Samuel had no financial problems. He sold one of his two cars to live on this money the first months, while he looked for jobs in the United States; he conveyed the house he had bought to you, who gets the rent paid; there is profit from the sale of cheese from his farm and, further, you are the only carpenters in the region. Therefore, with a financial situation stable as this, I affirm that this was not the reason why Samuel emigrated. How do you explain that from the group that went to the United States, he is the only one that never came back to visit his family? He doesn't miss you? Why he doesn't come back?

  — This doesn't concern you! — the old man raised his voice, furious as a bull that had just seen a piece of red cloth — My son has nothing to do with Judith’s death!

  — That is true, but I never said that your son had anything to do with the murder.

  Clóvis got up and went closer to see the table.

  — You need to sand a little bit of this table’s foot, it is unbalanced.

  The old man, restless, ended up sitting and ignoring the notes from the detective. He was trembling. The detective walked seriously up to the back of the chair in which Moisés had just sat on.

  — Judith had a lover — said
Clóvis, with certainty — Your son found out, broke up and decided to travel far away. He was ashamed with this and afraid of someone finding out and spreading it around the town. This would be a disaster to the family’s moral, right?

  Moisés was petrified.

  — How do you know? — questioned, confessing everything.

  — What we have to find out now, then, is who was Judith’s lover?

  — But, how did you found out about this!? — insisted Moisés, pale. He seemed to have kept this secrete under lock and key and the fact had been revealed as if he had told it himself.

  — Let us say that an angel mentioned something relevant and I understood the message — he replied laughing.

  — Angel! — exclaimed the old man — What kind of joke is this?

  — This is not important; we need to talk to Judith’s lover to see if they kept on seeing each other even after your son had left, and if there is any connection with the crime.

  — I don’t know who he is!

  — I know perfectly well that you do not know who he is, however I believe you have some suspicions, right? I need some suggestions, and I promise I won’t come back here... other than to buy this beautiful living room set, of course!

  I got a little intrigued, scared and curious with the investigation methods of this detective. If Clóvis got here in Rio Vermelho less than twenty four hours ago and no one in the city knew about this case, how did he get to these conclusions? And how did he know that there was a lover? How did he know Moises didn’t know who the lover was? What about this story of angels? Everything got me confused.

  — Any problems, father? — questioned Abel, showing up all of a sudden with a pitchfork in his hands. I had just remembered him and he appears. I got up and put my hands on my waist, near the revolver.

  — We are leaving. — replied Clóvis — There is no problem, Abel. You may rest easy.

  — Wait! — I ordered — We still have to know who was Judith’s lover!

  Father and son faced each other terrified; both stopped breathing. Abel was the lover. His look denounced it!

  — do you know what I am talking about, Abel? — I asked, but Moisés’ son was paralyzed.

  — Let’s go, Isaías, we got enough.

  Clóvis took me by the arms and walked me out of the house without even saying goodbye.

  — Why didn’t we cornered them and make them confess who was hiding around with Judith? I bet it was Abel, I mean, I am sure it was him!

  — No matter who it was, they don’t know – answered Clóvis already refuting my theory – we will get some evidences in her house, then we come back with arguments.

  The narrow alley where Judith used to live in is a way out from the square that connects to another parallel street and up from the street tangent to the church. It is so narrow that only one car blocks out the traffic. And it is the only house in this alley, with the only neighbors being the back of the houses on the main street. From there you could see a part of the church square and the crown of the palm trees above the roof tops; further ahead, it could be seen a store and part of the street where the city commerce extends to; and right on the corner, the speed bump that, of so tall, is destroying the cars in town. I parked in front of the house. If anyone wished to drive by that street he would have to go around the block. I am on duty.

  Clóvis took the key chain and got right on the first choice which was the entrance key, unlocking and pushing the door open slowly, squeaking the joints as in a terror film. No one had touched anything in the house since the owner’s death. The thin dust and the spider webs were proof of this. The strange death of Judith made everyone spooky about going inside this house. The detective observed everything: images of saints, invitations, encyclopedia, bible, paints, vases, plants, flowers and photos with the family and friends. I have never seen so much trash in a single home. And, what is more interesting is that there was no telephone.

  — There are people in the world that like everything at the same time, Isaías, and do not get rid of anything, even if they no longer use it, making life more complicated.

  — It is a house like any other. Is it possible to know someone just by looking inside their house?

  — Yes, it is. The world that the person creates around is exactly how the world exists inside. If the outside is a mess, the soul is the same thing.

  For a second, I remembered of my home. It is a mess, yes, needing some restoration, changing the furniture that my children destroyed with time, cleaning the yard full of things Madalena insists on not throwing away because some day she might need it. However, this doesn't mean that my soul is a mess, It means that I don’t have time.

  — Lack of time is the excuse more often used by the incompetents — he babbled without saying a word. I locked my breathing to lessen the burning feeling rising in my stomach. I was just thinking, it was clear that he was able to capture the ideas going through my mind. I don’t know how, but it was clear.

  — What do you mean by that? — I asked.

  — Putting myself in Judith’s shoes, I see that she was a frustrated person. She saw in the material values a way to ease her anguish; feeding the pleasure of having something new to her eyes; but she never realized that nothing lasts forever. Any and all material value pleases a person only while it is new; with time, this person needs to accumulate more and more objects around as a way to renew the self-esteem. This is not a good thinking to a person to have.

  — What would be, then?

  — To have only the simple and fundamental: the enrichment of the soul, and not of material values.

  — Oh, Judith was a catechist and a religious, of the type that would never miss going to the mass on Sundays! During her leisure moments, she kept laughing out loud, the kind of laughter that hurt the ears. It was clear that she had no problems with anyone in this world and that she followed strictly her religion. And you, just by looking at this room of her home, are trying to tell me she had a poor soul?

  — Any person can be religious in this world. Someone corrupt, a murderer or a disturbed person, anyone may easily keep visiting a church and walk around with a bible in hand. However, when we observe things around, there is a great probability of clarifying traces of one’s personality. She carried a great frustration.

  — A life dedicated to the youth! — I replied — She extracted from the bible the teachings that the youth needed for a worthy life, and dignity is something this people ought to have. You call a highly competent catechist frustrated?

  — Who is not frustrated in this world?

  — I am sure she wasn’t.

  — Appearances are deceiving. She had a life dedicated to the youth, but also had a secret lover… Do you think she had her conscience clean when she talked about God? Didn’t she felt the possibility of finding herself in hell? Or did she ignored her own actions once, despite of that, she considered herself to be a good person? What if God doesn't share the same point of view?

  — If she did not get along with her partner, she is right in looking for someone that did! This is not a sin. She wasn’t even married. Life must be enjoyed top the fullest because death come to us all and earth will eat us, pall, without pity! This is why sex today has less strings; exactly due to this kind of conscience. This is how things are and it won’t change. Besides, hell is something for the ungodly.

  — Life is a whiff and hell is a certainty, however, men see it as a fantasy or something that doesn't relates to men. But, actually, we are all going down, believing that there is any rescue from the final judgment.

  — God is forgiving! — I said laughing.

  He shook his head negatively.

  — Don’t you think that the life of this poor creature could have been a little bit longer?

  — Yeah…! — I said embarrassed — But things are like this. The important thing is that she was happy while she was alive.

  — Are you sure she was happy?

  — Yes, she was. If
you have met her, you would also know it. Each second of her life lived up to the fullest! This is how life should be. And more, why someone would waste her time studying, philosophizing, reading the bible, or any other book for that matter, and leave aside this great world full of surprises? Someday everything ends, and then what?

  — Do you really believe that this world has surprises?

  — At least for me it does.

  — Things were already here much before your imagination could calculate. The only surprise in this world is you.

  — This doesn't make any difference, since what is important is my point of view.

  — It is exactly your point of view that the devil controls. What if you are being controlled? Have you ever thought of this?

  — No. I want distance from the devil! And, I can’t find any sense in this theory.

  — It is best you know that life can be very ungrateful to those that do not search for this sense.

  — What sense?

  — The sense in life.

  — Then, answer me, what is the sense of life?

  He kept thinking for a minute. He knew everything and now he’s gone mute. Looked to the ceiling and concluded, as if he was the wisest of all:

  — Death.

  I looked straight into his eyes and felt the urge to laugh of his weak concept about the sense of life. And I questioned:

  — If life is like that, why don’t you just shoot yourself in the head?

  — I am not talking about suicide — he laughed — but about accepting the truth. We have a great facility of taking things to the extreme. When I talk about accepting death, I am not talking about losing life, but in giving a sense to it. Well, to renounce to the illusory values that this world gives, to look into the deep silence of our souls, the treasury that guarantees our actual and unconditional happiness. This doesn't mean that I want to die.

  — Because to me, thinking about dying or being in a deep silence is the same as getting into depression. So that have an idea, it disgusts me when I turn the TV off in my room to sleep and all I can hear is the chirping from crickets in my yard. That makes me feel like going out shooting everything I see! Empty... if you want to know, life is much better when we ignore this kind of discussion.

  — Running is the best option. I perfectly understand. But, what did you get with this kind of attitude so far?

  — What do you mean?

  — I refer to your happiness. The happiness you look so hard for. When will you reach it? When you retire? When you get a better job? In another job? In another city? In a nice car? In another woman? Maybe when you are famous, who knows?

  He laughed for a while and continued.

  — Isaías, where is your happiness? For how long will you look for it? Will running always be the best option?

  — I am not running from anything, I am happy just the way I am, I accept the fact that death exists and I am aware that someday I will be “six feet under”! But, until that day, I will enjoy all moments with my heart still beating. Besides, this so called “treasure that guarantees our true and unconditional happiness”, by any chance, pays the bills I have in the butcher shop? You talk like that because you don’t have children that eat like hungry tigers. I have debts, family and obligations. Time to keep quiet, honestly, only after I am dead!

  Mr. know-it-all opened a smile, shook his head negatively and turned to Judith’s bedroom.

  “Live life knowing that you are going to die.” What a stupid thinking! I will die someday, of course, but I don’t want to think about something that will happen in several years from now, when I am old and tired of this world.

  The entrance door creaked roughly. I trembled such that I almost fell down on my knees; I leaned on the closet avoiding this mess. A man came in suddenly.

  — Hello?! — he greeted us.

  — Hello. — I breathed in relief, but actually I wanted to punch him in the nose.

  — Are you investigating the murder?

  — No! We are looking for a job!

  The pain in the ass realized I was not into conversation, he entered Judith’s bedroom, got close to the know-it-all and reached out the hand at him.

  — Nice to meet you, my name is Tobias, Miss Ruth’s Godson.

  — Nice to meet you too. Clóvis!

  Tobias is a meddler, and must be about thirty two years old. He has the terrible habit of talking and laughing at the same time. Because he has a friendly face, he brags about drawing the attention of many women; he is the priest’s chauffeur and thinks he is so important for this. He is wearing sunglasses, always in the fashion and no one ever saw him on a bad hair day. Even being the person that has the most contact with priest Lázaro, he cannot overcome his alcohol addiction. He is drunk in a minute. Not even the priest could get this devil out of him.

  The detective ignored the presence of that preppy and fixed the attention in a locked small pastel colored handcrafted chest. He studied the chest in every possible way, even turning it upside down. Then, he got a pen out of his pocket and extracted the pins from the joints with the tip, what released the upper portion of the chest at the opposite side: there was a bunch of letters, postcards and an old big key.

  — What does this key open? — asked Clóvis, intrigued by its length.

  — It is for the priest’s house — replied Tobias. — All catechists have a copy so that, in case the priest goes away on a trip, they continue having access for cleaning, classes, visits and other things. And Judith taught catechism at the parish house.

  The know-it all raised his eyebrows, still admiring the size of the key: it had the size of a palm; a relic in extinction.

  — Do you think there is any possibility of someone sending anonymous letters threatening her? — Tobias asked.

  — No, I am just trying to figure out what Judith was like.

  — Based on this old letters?

  — The handwriting of a person can give us clues about her personality.

  — Personality based on the handwriting? That is impossible!

  — Don’t you believe in investigations, Tobias?

  — To me, investigation and guessing are the same thing.

  — Are you suspicious of anyone that may have committed that atrocity, Tobias?

  — Yes.

  — Of whom?

  — The sorcerer. People say he is crazy now, that he doesn't talk to anyone and that already confessed that he has the devil in his body.

  — These are just rumors from people that have nothing better to do. He is depressed, that is all, as anyone would be.

  — It is a sign that he has a guilty conscience. I would be ok if I were in his shoes.

  The detective laughed.

  — Do you hate him for killing Judith?

  — Of course! Judith was like a sister to me.

  Then, Clóvis raised his eyes from the letters, and seriously looked at Tobias.

  — What does your mother have to do with this?

  — Nothing!

  Tobias blushed. The antipathetic smile was changed into a terrifying look in face of the detective’s question.

  — Are your mother a catholic?

  — She has been a while back, however, today she belongs to the same church that the sorcerer went to. My mother is very old and naive. Why do you ask?

  — For nothing — mocked detective — Are you feeling ok?

  — You scared me with that question.

  — Do you have a guilty conscience?

  — Obviously not!

  Clóvis began staring at the floor from one side to the other and, even with his head down, I noticed the hidden movement of his dark eyes.

  — Miss Ruth entrusted us to ask you to get someone to clean this house.

  — I already knew, but I needed the keys. A girl already volunteered to clean up as long as I keep her company. She is afraid of being here alone, do you understand?

  Clóvis gave a malicious smile.

  — I see. But, accor
ding to the request by Miss Ruth, you are supposed to clean this house and by the looks of it you want to take advantage of the house, right?

  — What do you mean?

  — Why didn’t you choose someone older?

  Tobias was flabbergasted, pale and petrified. Well done! I want to see his antipathetic face saying now that “investigation and guessing are the same thing”.

  — I will take this chest back to the hotel to read the letters and I will return it later to the same place, ok?

  — Fine by me.

  We left the house and went to the car, followed by Tobias, who still had a dumb and enigmatic look on his face. Waived and stayed on the small porch observing every movement Clóvis did when he went out.

  I got inside the car and was about to ask which would be our next stop in our investigation.

  — Isaías, you are dismissed. There are many letters for me to study and, maybe, at night we meet.

  — Ok!

  This is what I wanted to hear since I woke up. It is better than being in the company of this terrifying detective. So, I gave him a quick goodbye and went towards the police station, because there were several services pending and it would be best to speed up my work before the Chief of Police get back from the trip.

  Through the rearview mirror I saw Tobias, who stayed on the porch and still observed the detective leaving the place, when turning the corner on foot towards the church square. Thank God I got rid of both at once.

  I speed up a little my service and stayed the rest of the afternoon chatting with David, the prison guard. I couldn’t do much without the presence of the Chief of Police and, therefore, I just did my part. I remained like that up to my time to leave.

  I stayed home until night and left without giving ears to Madalena. The bar was waiting for me.

  Everyone was there: David, Daniel, Norberto, Piaba, José and Betão.

  I had no intention to drink, but there is always someone that ask for a glass and fills it up, someone else makes a toast and another one that buys more beer… well, a lot of laughs, a lot of chitchat, shameful stories, jokes, etc. That is where I felt good: I could talk and laugh as much as I wanted. All of this was like therapy to relax my nerves. Why not enjoy the good things life gives us?

  — And the detective, Isaías, does he really have a pact with the devil? — asked David, laughing.

  — Lower your voice! He is coming.

  — Are you afraid of him?

  I was about to tell about my day, but I already knew that they were going to mess with me, so I preferred to shut up.

  Clóvis arrived and greeted everyone. He ordered a soda, sat with us and told us some jokes. However, it didn’t last long and he wanted to leave.

  — Don’t go, man! — I exclaimed — You are not a child to be in bed. Stay a little longer with us and I will introduce you to some “friends”. By the way, are you married?

  — No. But as I told you before, I want to solve this mystery this week and leave on Monday at seven in the morning. Sleeping late messes with my concentration. Speaking of which, I have something to tell you that I believe you won’t like: Josias will be released.

  — What?!

  — That is right. Since the investigation was resumed, there is no reason to keep him incarcerated without concrete evidences.

  — He had no alibi for the night of the murder…

  — Someone that lives alone with a small daughter have problems presenting an alibi, since his only witness cannot acquit him due to her age.

  — When does Josias will be released?

  — Tomorrow morning, by order of the district attorney.

  My good humor melted like cotton candy in the mouth of a child, and my body itched on angry. I looked to the television with the intention of distracting myself, but what I really wanted was to go home.

  — I am going to the hotel. I have a lot to do, and tomorrow will be a long day.

  — I am leaving too — I grunted — I am not feeling well.

  Wednesday