Page 23 of Of Love and Shadows


  But now they were in the Cardinal’s office. The photographs on the massive antique desk were starkly lighted by the sun streaming through the windowpanes. From his chair, the visitor could see the clear blue sky of spring and the tops of the century-old trees in the street outside. The room was simply furnished with dark furniture and book-lined shelves. The walls were bare except for a cross of barbed wire, a gift from prisoners in a concentration camp. A teacart held large white china cups and quantities of pastry and marmalade provided by the Carmelite nuns. José Leal drank his last sip of tea and picked up the photographs, returning them to his plumber’s bag. The Cardinal pressed a bell and his secretary answered immediately.

  “Please, I want to see the people on this list . . . today!” he directed, handing the secretary a list of names he had written in his perfect script. The secretary left the room and the Cardinal turned toward José. “How did you learn of this story, Father Leal?”

  “I told you, Your Eminence. It’s a secret of the confessional,” José said, smiling and indicating that he did not want to talk about it.

  “If the police decide to interrogate you, they will not accept that answer.”

  “I’ll take that risk.”

  “I hope it will not be necessary. I understand you have already been arrested—twice, is it not?”

  “Yes, Your Eminence.”

  “You should not call attention to yourself. I would prefer that for the present, at least, you not go to that mine.”

  “But I have a strong interest in this matter and, with your permission, I would like to see it through to the end,” José replied, flushing.

  The prelate looked at José inquisitively, pondering his deepest motives. He had worked with José for years and considered him to be a bulwark of the Vicariate, which required strong, brave men of generous heart like this man dressed in workingman’s clothes and holding on his knees a plumber’s bag containing evidence of unspeakable evil. The priest’s honest gaze convinced the Cardinal that he was not acting from curiosity or pride, but from a desire to learn the truth.

  “Be cautious, Father Leal, not only for your sake but for the sake of the Church. We want no war with the government, you understand?”

  “Perfectly, Your Eminence.”

  “Come this evening to the meeting I called. If God wills it, tomorrow you will open that mine.”

  The Cardinal rose from his chair and accompanied his visitor to the door, walking slowly, with one hand on the muscular arm of this man who, like himself, had elected the difficult challenge of loving his neighbor more than himself.

  “Go with God” was the elderly Cardinal’s farewell, accompanied by a firm handshake that cut short José’s move to bow and kiss his ring.

  At dusk a group of carefully chosen individuals gathered in the office of the Cardinal. The event did not go unnoticed by the Political Police and the State Security Corps, both of which reported to the General personally but had not dared to interfere because of specific orders to avoid confrontation with the Church: Bloody hell! Those damned priests stick their noses in where no one asks them—why don’t they attend to the soul and leave the governing to us? But don’t interfere with them. We don’t want to get into another fracas there, said the General, fuming; but find out what the hell they’re plotting so we can put a cork in it before the genie gets loose, before those bastards begin shooting off their mouths from the pulpit, fucking up the whole country, and leave us no choice but to teach them a lesson—though I would certainly not take any great pleasure from that, being an apostolic, Roman, practicing Catholic. I’m not planning any fight with God.

  They did not learn what was spoken that night, however, in spite of sensitive listening devices purchased in Biblical lands, instruments that could capture the sighing and panting of lovers in a hotel three blocks away; in spite of all the telephones tapped in an effort to hear every intent whispered throughout the vast prison of the nation; in spite of agents who had infiltrated the residence of the Cardinal himself, dressed as exterminators, deliverymen, gardeners, even the lame, blind, and epileptic who had stationed themselves at the door asking for alms and benedictions from the passing cassocks. The Security Corps used every tactic at their command but could ascertain only: for a number of hours the persons on this list remained behind closed doors, General, sir, and then went from the office to the dining room, where they were served a seafood bisque, roast beef with parsley potatoes, and, for dessert, a— Get down to brass tacks, Colonel, I don’t want menus, I want to know what they said! No idea, General, sir, but if you want we can interrogate the secretary. Don’t be an ass, Colonel!

  At midnight the invited guests said good night at the door of the Cardinal’s residence before the vigilant eyes of the police openly stationed in the street outside. Everyone knew that from that moment their lives were in danger, but none hesitated: they had grown accustomed to walking on the edge of an abyss. They had worked for the Church for many years. Except for José Leal, all were laypersons and some were unbelievers who had had no contact at all with religion until the military coup, after which they had banded together in an inevitable pledge to resist in the shadows. Once he was alone, the Cardinal turned out the lights and went to his room. He had dismissed his secretary early, and all his staff, because they did not approve of his late hours. As he grew older, he needed less sleep and he liked spending his wakeful hours working in his office. He walked through the house, making sure the doors were locked and the shutters closed; after the latest bomb explosion in his garden he had taken simple precautions. He had flatly rejected the General’s offer to provide him with a team of bodyguards, and had refused a similar offer from a group of young Catholic volunteers who wanted to protect him. He was convinced that he would live until his appointed hour, not a second more or a second less. Besides, he said, representatives of the Church cannot go around in bulletproof cars and anti-flak jackets like politicians, mafiosi, and tyrants. If any of the attempts against his person should be successful, within a very short time another priest would take his place to carry on his work. That knowledge gave him enormous peace of mind.

  He went into his bedchamber, closed the thick wooden door, removed his clothing, and pulled on his nightshirt. Only then did he feel his weariness and the weight of his new responsibility, but he did not allow himself to doubt. He knelt at his prie-dieu, buried his head in his hands, and spoke with God, as he had done all his life with the deep certainty of being heard and of finding a response to his questions. At times the voice of his Creator was slow in making itself heard, or was manifest in tortuous ways, but always there was an answer. The Cardinal knelt immersed in prayer until he became aware of his icy feet and the crushing burden of his years. He remembered that he could no longer make such demands of his old bones, and he climbed into bed with a sigh of satisfaction, because the Lord had blessed his decisions.

  * * *

  Wednesday dawned as sunny as a midsummer day. The commission arrived in Los Riscos in three automobiles, headed by the Auxiliary Bishop and directed by José Leal, who, instructed by his brother, had marked the route on a map. Journalists, representatives of international organizations, and a number of attorneys were observed from a distance by the General’s agents, who had kept them under surveillance since the evening before.

  Irene wanted to be a part of the team from her magazine, but Francisco would not allow it. Journalists had no guarantee of safety, unlike the other members of the commission, whose positions afforded them a measure of security. If Irene and Francisco were ever connected with the discovery of the bodies, they could not hope to escape with their lives; and there was a good possibility they would be, since both had been present when Evangelina tossed Lieutenant Ramírez around, were known to have made inquiries about the missing girl, and had maintained contact with the Ranquileo family.

  The cars halted a short distance from the mine. José Leal was the fi
rst to attack the rubble at the entrance, using to advantage his bearlike strength and his familiarity with hard labor. The others followed his lead, and within a few minutes they had made an opening. From their position, the Security Corps communicated by radio to inform the General that the suspects were trespassing, and opening a sealed mine in spite of posted warnings: We await instructions, General, sir; over and out. Limit yourself to observation, as I ordered you, and make no move to intervene. No matter what happens, do not get into a confrontation with those people; over and out.

  The Auxiliary Bishop had decided to take the initiative, and he was the first to enter the mine. He was not an agile man, but he managed to get his legs through the opening and then, twisting like a mongoose, slipped the rest of his body inside. The stench struck him like a club, but it was not until his eyes became adjusted to the darkness and he saw the cadaver of Evangelina Ranquileo that he uttered a cry that brought the others running. He was assisted back through the entrance, helped to his feet, and led to the shade of the trees to recover his breath. Meanwhile, José Leal improvised torches from rolled newspapers, suggested that everyone cover his face with a handkerchief and led the members of the commission, one by one, inside the sepulcher, where, half kneeling, each saw the decomposing body of the girl and the Vesuvius of piled-up bones, hair, and tattered cloth. Every stone they removed revealed new human remains. Once outside, no one was capable of speech; trembling and pale, the observers stared at one another, struggling to comprehend the enormity of what they had seen. José Leal was the only one who had the heart to close the entrance again; he was thinking of dogs that might nose among the bones, or of the possibility that the authors of those crimes, warned by the gaping hole, might spirit away the evidence—a futile precaution, since some two hundred yards away sat a parked police van equipped with European telescopes and North American infrared-ray machines that informed the Colonel of the contents of the mine almost at the same moment the Auxiliary Bishop saw them for himself. But the General’s instructions were very clear: Don’t interfere with the priests, wait until they take the next step to see what the shit they have in mind. After all, there’s nothing there but a few unidentified bodies.

  It was still early when the commission returned to the city; after swearing not to comment, they went their separate ways, planning to meet that evening to give an account of their activities to the Cardinal.

  That night the lights in the Archiepiscopal Residence remained on until dawn, to the discomfiture of the spies stationed in the treetops with apparatus acquired in the Far East that enabled them to see through walls in the dark. But we still don’t know what they’re planning, General, sir. It’s past curfew now and they’re still talking and drinking coffee. If you give us the word, we’ll break in, search the place, and arrest everyone there. What did you say? Idiots! Try not to be such assholes!

  At dawn the visitors left and the prelate bade them goodbye at the door. Only he seemed serene, for his soul was at peace and he was a stranger to fear. He went to bed for a while, and after breakfast he called the Chief Justice of the Supreme Court to ask him to receive as expeditiously as possible three of his envoys, the bearers of a letter of great importance. One hour later the envelope was in the hands of the Justice, who wished he were on the other side of the world, anywhere far away from this ticking time bomb that must inevitably explode.

  To the Honorable Chief Justice,

  The Supreme Court

  Sr. Chief Justice:

  Some days ago a person communicated to a priest, in the secrecy of the confessional, that he had knowledge and proof of the existence of a number of cadavers which were to be found in a place whose location he supplied to the priest. The priest, authorized by the informant, called the aforementioned information to the attention of ecclesiastical authorities.

  With the purpose of establishing the veracity of the information, yesterday, in the early hours of the morning, a commission composed of the signers of this letter, the directors of the newsmagazines Acontecer and Semana, respectively, along with officials from the Office for Human Rights, went to the location described by the informant. The site is a mine, at present abandoned, located among the foothills in the vicinity of Los Riscos.

  Once at the site, and after removing the loose matter that blocked the mouth of the mine, the aforementioned individuals corroborated the existence of remains corresponding to an undetermined number of human beings. Following this verification, we cut short our inspection of the site, as our only objective was to confirm the gravity of the report received; we were not authorized to proceed further in a matter more appropriate for judicial investigation.

  Nevertheless, it is our opinion that the appearance of the locale and the disposition of the remains whose existence we have established substantiate the eventual discovery of a large number of victims.

  The public outcry that the aforementioned information may evoke has caused us to bring the matter directly to the attention of the highest judicial power in the land, so that the Supreme Tribunal may adopt the necessary measures for a rapid and exhaustive investigation.

  With regards to Your Honor,

  we, the undersigned, remain,

  Very sincerely yours,

  Alvaro Urbaneja (Auxiliary Bishop)

  Jesús Valdovinos (Vicar General)

  Eulogio García de la Rosa (Attorney)

  The Chief Justice knew the Cardinal. He recognized that this was not a skirmish and that the Cardinal was prepared to wage all-out war. He must have all the aces up his sleeve, because he was too astute to lay that pile of bones in his hands and challenge him to bring the forces of law to bear unless he was very sure. It required no great experience to conclude that the perpetrators of those crimes had acted with the approval of the government, and so, having no confidence in the authorities, the Church had intervened. He dried the sweat from his forehead and neck and reached for a pill for his high blood pressure and another for his heart, fearing that his moment of truth had arrived after years of juggling justice in accord with the General’s instructions; after years of “losing” files and tying up the Vicariate’s lawyers in bureaucratic red tape; after years of fabricating laws to fit, retroactively, recently invented crimes. Oh, why didn’t I retire in time, why didn’t I take my pension while it was still possible to do so with dignity, go cultivate my roses in peace and pass into history free of this burden of guilt and shame that won’t let me sleep by night and that haunts me by day if I relax for so much as an instant; it’s not as if I did it from personal ambition; I only meant to serve the nation, as the General himself asked me to do a few days after he assumed command; ah, but it’s too late now, that damned mine is yawning at my feet like my own grave, and since the Cardinal decided to intervene, these dead cannot be silenced as so many have been; I should have retired on the day of the military coup, the day they bombed the Presidential Palace, jailed the Ministers, dissolved the Congress, when the eyes of the world were focused on us, waiting for someone to stand up and defend the constitution; that is the day I should have gone home, claiming that I was old, that I was ill; that is what I should have done instead of placing myself at the service of the Junta, instead of undertaking the purge of my own courts of law.

  The first impulse of the Chief Justice of the Supreme Court was to call the Cardinal and make him a proposition, but even as the thought occurred to him, he realized that this matter was beyond his capacity as a negotiator. He picked up the telephone, dialed the secret number, and spoke directly with the General.