The outlaw accepted the agreement. The moment Laura Guimarães Furtado was naked in his bed, Roma’s life would be saved. But if the promise wasn’t kept, it was curtains. Except that, in this case, Robocop would be authorized to exercise his favorite hobby: killing slowly.
In the suite at the Sheraton, the hyperactive socialite felt suddenly ecstatic. The offer to meet with Zéu made her eyes shine more than at any other time with Roma. And there had never been a lover happier to be in second place. The glow in Laura’s eyes foretold the success of Romário’s masterly ploy: to save his skin, and to reach the governor. But she was stubborn.
“Why do you want to meet the governor so badly?”
Using his final reserves of sangfroid, the maestro of the band said, “Because I want power.”
Laura guffawed. “Power?! You want power?! You don’t know what power is, my dear! You just came down from the favela yesterday with your little 171 band and already want a front-row seat?!”
Romário continued unruffled: “The 171 is my band and it’s only a parody of crime. But the crimes of your husband’s firm are no parody.”
Laura was about to reply, offended, but this time Roma didn’t let her speak.
“You don’t need to defend the family honor. Here between four walls we know the story. I want money and power, but I have a plan for the city. And the governor’s going to submit to me.”
“Okay. So go there and ring the governor’s doorbell, because I’m not going to usher into the palace some nobody who attacks my husband and then wants his help.”
“Fine. From what I see, you don’t really care about meeting Zéu...”
It was the last bluff Romário had left. If Laura knew he was marked to die and she was his salvation, she would trade one thing for the other, and goodbye to an audience with the governor. But Laura didn’t want to miss out on the tryst with the trafficker, so her lust spoke up: “Okay, sweetheart. I’ll put your name on the governor’s list. But first you have to set up my meeting with the sultan of love.” Roma assented.
Laura asked for the check. The third bottle of Dom Pérignon had arrived and would be charged to her bill, without having been opened. The socialite didn’t even notice. She took a wad of money from her purse — the proper way to pay for misbehavior — and asked her partner to handle the checkout. She would go directly down to the garage. He would exit the Sheraton on foot (with a bottle of champagne in his hand).
As he was walking down Avenida Niemeyer toward Leblon, a police car stopped beside him. A light-brown-skinned man, almost mulatto, coming out of the Sheraton on foot carrying a bottle of Dom Pérignon was by definition suspicious. The questioning was about to begin, but Roma forestalled it.
“Look, I was going to drink this with the governor. But I think you’re thirstier than he is,” Roma said, sticking the bottle in the patrol car and walking away without looking back.
The policemen didn’t refuse the present. The diplomat of Greater Rocinha knew the people of his territory.
Now all that remained was to conquer the palace and escape the death sentence.
The two blows to Lizard’s face resounded so loudly that Zéu heard them from inside his bedroom, with the air-conditioning on. He came out and found Robocop in the game room wearing his usual frozen expression and Lizard looking panicky.
“Why’re you smackin’ the soldier around, Robocop?”
“Caught the son of a bitch talkin’ to the police, Zéu. That means summary execution, don’t it?”
Zéu scratched his head, still a bit sleepy. “Yeah. I mean — let’s interrogate him first. Lemme have my goddamn coffee. You bring me problems at this hour of the morning and I can’t think straight.”
At that moment a shapely mulatta emerged from the chief’s bedroom, stretching and still in a nightgown. Noticing the tension, she said, “Ah, Robocop... let Lizard go. This habit you guys have of going after people...”
Zéu wasn’t pleased: “Shut up, Adelaide! I’ve told you not to stick your nose in military affairs.”
Lizard ran to Adelaide, kissing her hand and swearing innocence. Zéu threw him onto the pool table.
“Get your hands off her, you traitor! You wanna die slow?!”
The chief sat down at the living room table facing the pool, drank coffee with scrambled eggs, scanned the news on his iPad, lit a Marlboro, and summoned Robocop. During the interrogation, Lizard said he had only spoken with a military police corporal because the cop had accosted him at the entrance to a McDonald’s.
“The guy wanted to sell me information, Zéu. I told him I don’t talk to police, but that was when Robocop showed up and grabbed me by the neck—”
“Liar!” interrupted Robocop. “Lizard was talkin’ to that Corporal Saraiva, who charges us a toll to bring cargo up the hill. Lizard’s in cahoots with the German, Zéu! Let’s put this fucker under the ground right now!”
Lizard begged them not to kill him, seeing Robocop with his finger already on the trigger.
Zéu had one last question: “Okay. You’re sayin’ Corporal Saraiva wanted to sell information. Then I wanna buy that information.”
Lizard was confused. “You’re gonna buy information from the police, Zéu?”
“The punk’s makin’ it up!” snapped Robocop.
“If he’s making it up I’ll know right away. How much does the German want for the information?”
“He said he wants a pretty virgin here on the hill,” murmured Lizard.
“Then it’s settled. How old’s your kid sister, Lizard?”
“No, Zéu, for the love of God—”
“Fuck the love of God! How old is the bitch?! Has she screwed anybody?”
Lizard stared at the floor. “Twelve. She’s still a virgin.”
“Great. Robocop, tomorrow night bring the girl, the cop, and Lizard to the bedroom over Jacaré’s bar. Let me know when they’re all there. Now call that piece-of-shit Romário. And you, Lizard, you know if you run away from the favela your family dies and I’ll hunt you down wherever the hell you go.”
After two tries, Robocop informed the chief that Roma’s cellular was turned off. He took a blow to the face stronger than those he had dealt to Lizard — Zéu had to stand on tiptoe to strike the giant’s face.
“How many times have I told you I don’t wanna know about the things you don’t do, you stupid robot? Find Roma and put him on the line with me.”
Robocop would have avoided the humiliating punch if he had simply told the chief what he wanted to know: he had spoken earlier with Romário, who had said that the socialite Laura Furtado had confirmed for Friday, two days from then, at four p.m. in Zéu’s bunker.
Upon receiving this information, the trafficker turned into a pussycat. He told Robocop he was “fuckin’ great,” and he was invited to watch the Flamengo game that night at Zéu’s home theater. The henchman accepted with a smile, his cheek still red from the blow.
Corporal Saraiva arrived in plainclothes and smelling of cologne for the encounter with the virgin and the trafficker in Jacaré’s bar. Robocop sent him upstairs, where Lizard and his prepubescent sister Keitte awaited. Soon afterward, Zéu arrived, looking sideways at Lizard, who was there as a prisoner — suspected of treason and perhaps of ambush.