Lascano spends the whole night compiling all the bits and pieces of information about Miranda he has stashed away in his memory. He was in charge of the investigation that led to his arrest. Mole got off with a light sentence because he’s one crook who doesn’t scrimp on lawyers. He’s astute and intelligent but, unfortunately, devoted to crime. He’s always dreamt of convincing him to work for the police. A mind like his would be an enormous boon because you have to think like a criminal if you want to capture one.
The things that matter to a man tend to remain the same, despite time and experience. And if there’s one thing that matters to Miranda, it’s his family. His wife and son. As far as Lascano knows, she has nothing to do with his criminal activities. She’s a “native beauty”, the girl next door — though not such a girl any longer — who had the misfortune to fall in love with a crook. But she’s nobody’s fool: several times she managed to shake off a policeman who was tailing her to get to Miranda. The son must be about twenty by now. Too bad he doesn’t have any contacts to find out what the kid is up to. He remembers spending days and days watching the house, which is what he plans to do again now.
A little before dawn Lascano stations himself in the doorway of a house on Pasaje El Lazo. From there he has a good view of the front door as well as the back, which Miranda could easily come and go through. Miranda’s house is silent and still. The neighbourhood slowly begins to come to life. A Falcon carrying three plainclothes cops turns the corner at Cuenca. Perro immediately recognizes one of them: it’s Flores, one of the most corrupt and bloodthirsty superintendents of the Federal Police. Lascano knows that his presence there is no coincidence. Flores has the same idea he has, except Flores is not going to waste time following the son and hoping he’ll lead him to Mole, as Lascano was planning to do. He’ll surely take a much more expeditious route, like, for example, kidnapping him and demanding Mole in exchange. Perro’s brain kicks into high gear. He starts walking away quickly while digging around in his pockets for a coin. As soon as he’s out of sight of the Falcon, he jogs to Jonte. El Quitapenas is raising its metal curtain. He dashes in, rushes to find the telephone, picks up the receiver and dials information.
Please, the number for Channel Nine…
A recorded voice recites the number, one digit at a time. He hangs up, cradles the phone between his shoulder and his ear and inserts another coin into the slot, repeating the number to himself as if it were a mantra. He dials.
… The news department, please…
It seems an eternity before they answer.
Come on, come on…
It rings six or seven times, then finally a young voice answers.
Listen, there’s been a shootout here in Paternal… Thousands of shots… I think there are piles of dead bodies… I’ll give you the address… Write it down, 2049 Cuenca… Half a block from the corner of Cuenca and Jonte… Yes… Is there some kind of… reward?… Jorge Lopez… That’s fine, when the van gets here I’ll tell them who I am… You’re welcome.
He hangs up, then dials the police. A woman answers immediately. Trying to sound arrogant and intimidating, like a lordly landowner, he spits his words out like a machine gun.
Hello… This is Judge Fernandez Retamar of the Second Criminal Court… Let’s see, I want to report an assault occurring at this very moment at a private residence… No, I’m in the street… It’s a residence… Cuenca and El Lazo… There are three men stationed outside in the alleyway in a grey Falcon… I didn’t notice… They’re armed… Send people immediately… I’ll wait here for you… Agreed… Step on it…
Lascano returns at a fast clip to Miranda’s house but keeps walking past it at least a few yards. Everything remains calm. One of the cops stands guard, next to the Falcon, the other two are still sitting inside. He sits down on the front steps of an Italian-style house. Lascano doesn’t have to wait long. Two squad cars, blasting their sirens, enter the alleyway in the wrong direction and two others block the other end of the street. The car doors open and twelve uniformed police officers get out, their pistols, machine guns and rifles drawn, and crouch down behind their cars. The inspector, talking through a megaphone, orders the men in Flores’s car to come out with their hands up. They register a moment of shock and confusion. The order is repeated through the megaphone. Several neighbours look out their windows. The shutters over the window in Miranda’s house open and Susana looks out. Flores and the other cop descend from the Falcon and slowly lift their arms over their heads. Flores shouts that they are policemen. In response, they’re told to get on the ground face down. They look at each other: they have no choice but to obey. Lascano stands up. A news van from Channel Nine arrives and brakes abruptly. Susana opens the front door, looking sick with worry. A reporter walks up to her, straightening out his tie and fixing his hair. A cameraman follows behind, shooting the scene. The uniformed officers, their fingers on their triggers, cautiously approach the men on the ground. Susana walks to the corner and tries to see who the men are. A sergeant goes up to her and takes her by the arm; she shakes him off with an indignant gesture. Flores is already standing up, angrily brushing off his suit. The inspector desperately tries to explain. Lascano smiles. Susana turns on her heels and heads for her front door, where her son has appeared. Flores seems about to levitate from rage; he motions to his men; they get in the Falcon and leave. The inspector guestures to the squad cars to let him through. Relieved, the twelve policemen return to their squad cars and leave. The reporter pats his hair into place as the cameraman returns to the van and sits down in the back seat. Lascano turns to look at Miranda’s house. Leaning against the door frame, Susana, still and serious, is watching him. Perro slowly crosses the street toward her.
Mrs Miranda, I am… I know exactly who you are.
Her interruption was abrupt and bitter. Lascano opens his arms in a conciliatory gesture; she starts to close the door.
Wait. What do you want, Lascano? I’m the one who organized this whole to-do. What are you saying, that I should give you a medal? Listen to me for a second, please. I’m listening. I concocted this whole thing to stop them from kidnapping you, your son or both of you. What are you talking about? I was watching your house when I saw Flores and the other two in the alley. Who’s Flores? Ask your husband when you see him. Those guys are after the money Mole stole. And they wouldn’t think twice about using any means to get it. And you, what’s your game? You just happened to be walking through the neighbourhood? No, I’m looking for your husband. He doesn’t come here, get that through your head. That’s fine, please allow me to give you some advice. Is it absolutely necessary? I think so. Out with it. Leave your house for a few days, those people are very dangerous and you can be sure they’ll be back. Thank you, I’ll keep it in mind.
The woman shuts the door in his face. Lascano feels a sharp stab in his chest and can’t breathe. He stumbles, his head knocks against the door and he falls to the ground. Susana opens the door and sees him crumpled up at her feet. Fernando looks at him, frightened, and bends down to help him up.
Are you okay?
Perro loosens his tie and feels the air beginning to flow back into his lungs. He’s drenched in sweat. Susana disappears and an instant later returns with a glass of water and a wicker chair. Lascano rejects the chair and accepts the water. He takes tiny sips. His breath is still laboured but he’s starting to recover.
Are you better? Yes, it’s passing, I apologize. Would you like me to call a doctor? No, it’s not necessary. Are you sure?
He nods. His vision has cleared up.
Don’t take lightly what I told you. Those people are dangerous. It’s okay, don’t worry. Another thing. What? Tell your husband what happened and that I’m looking for him. He knows he’ll be safe with me. If he gets in touch with me I’ll tell him. Good. Do as I say, get out of here now.