Mr Lascano, Fermin has spoken very highly of you. I understand you are a police superintendent. I was. Not any longer. Even better. He also tells me you are the best detective of the Federal Police. Tell me what you need and I’ll tell you if I can do it. Agreed. Let’s get straight to the point, then. Please do. There was a robbery at one of our branches. Uh-huh. The assault failed… partially. One of the robbers is dead, another is in prison and one or two escaped. If the assault failed, I don’t see why you need me. I said it failed partially. One of the ones who escaped did so with one million dollars. You call that a failure? Officially, yes. I don’t understand. That million dollars wasn’t supposed to be at that branch. It was a misunderstanding between the accountant and the armoured truck company. In other words, you can’t report it and so the insurance won’t cover it. To tell you the truth, sir, I’d rather not have anything to do with dirty money. Why do you assume it’s dirty money? Because if it weren’t dirty, you’d report it and the insurance would cover it. I don’t think you’ve understood me. Please explain. The insurance company requires us to keep track of all the cash at each branch. Because of an accounting error, this money didn’t get recorded, the accountant left it for the following day. He was negligent. Report the accountant. I can’t. Why not? Because he’s my son. And you’re sure your son isn’t an accomplice of the robbers? I’d like to be able to suspect him of that, but the poor boy is so stupid he wouldn’t even be capable of it. You’ve got to have some talent to rob a bank. If you say so… What do you want me to do? I need to find that robber and, if possible, the money. The essential thing here is that my son never comes under suspicion. What do we know about the robber? Almost nothing. And the one they arrested? You can interrogate him whenever you like, but he hasn’t let out a peep. What’s his name? No idea. You can speak with our contact in the police department. Who is he? Deputy Superintendent Sansone. I know him well. What are you offering? Three thousand now. If you find the robber, fifty thousand and ten per cent of the money you recover. And if I don’t recover anything? Too bad for you. And if I don’t find him? Also, too bad for you. And how will you know that I don’t just take the three thousand and do nothing. I don’t, but I pride myself on being able to read a person’s character, and you don’t seem like somebody who would do that. Anyway, if you were a con artist, Fermin wouldn’t have recommended you and, finally, Lascano, I know a little about your situation, and I don’t think you are in any position to make more enemies. Wouldn’t you agree?
Perro nods. Makinlay picks up the telephone and talks to his secretary. An instant later, the girl comes in, places an envelope on the desk and leaves.
This is for you. Do we have a deal? I guess so. From now on you’ll communicate only with Fermin. Whatever you need or have to say, you tell him. Understood? The one who pays, makes the rules.
Fermin hands him his card, takes his arm and walks him to the door.
At the corner of 25 de Mayo and Mitre there’s a cafe with a curved bar to sit at and drink coffee on the fly. It’s empty, too late for breakfast and too early for lunch. Perro sits down, asks for a double espresso with cold milk and a croissant. While the kid is preparing the coffee he goes over to the public phone and looks through the front pages of the phone book for the central switchboard of the police department. He sticks a coin in the slot and dials.
Good morning, this is Superintendent Lascano… I’d like to speak with Deputy Superintendent Sansone, please… Thank you… Lascano. How’re you doing?… As they say, only the good die young… Fine… Yes, I know… A mess, eh?… You bet… I need to see you… The guy you’ve got there from the bank heist… Yeah, I talked to that Lord somebody… Who is it?… Now?… Okay, if it’s got to be now, I’m on my way… In about an hour… Don’t mention my visit to anybody… No worries… That’s fine, I’ll call you when I’m almost there… Done deal… thanks… Bye.
He eats the croissant in two bites and drinks the coffee in three gulps. It hits him like a punch from Coggi the Whip who knocked out Gutierrez in the first round. Once he’s out on the street again, a shiver runs up and down his spine. He’s about to walk straight into the belly of the beast. Again. He’s sick of danger, but he goes anyway.
Sansone lets Lascano in through a small side door on Virrey Ceballos. Sansone is short and energetic, an unrepentant grouch, but a straight shooter. He leads him down dark, narrow, damp and empty corridors. They end up in a kind of reception room surrounded by barred doors. A beer-bellied sergeant stands up when he sees them and opens one of the doors, lets them through, then closes it behind him. He leads them to a cell door, opens it and steps aside to let them pass. They enter, and the sergeant returns to his desk. The man in the cell has his head wrapped in a bandage. When the door opens, he looks up, on guard. Perro has known him for ages; it’s Dandy Benavidez, a bank robber from Miranda the Mole’s gang. He’s pale and in a cold sweat. He shows all the signs of having been seriously roughed up.
What happened, Dandy? I thought you retired. What’s up with you, Perro? As you see, visiting my old friends in trouble. I’ve got a lawyer. I know, but have I ever touched you? I just want to talk. I don’t have nothing to say. Who’re you working with, Dandy? Mickey Mouse. Not Miranda the Mole, by any chance? Mole’s in jail. Don’t bullshit me, Dandy, he just got out. You don’t say? I hadn’t heard.
Dandy seems to be speaking in slow motion, and it seems like he’s about to start to cry. He tries to hide the tremor in his hands by pressing them together, but it doesn’t work. Lascano nods at Sansone and they walk out of the cell.
Do me a favour. What? Go to the storeroom and ask them to give you a little boric acid. What’s that? It’s a chemical they use to kill cockroaches. What do you want it for? If you want a canary to sing, you’ve got to give him his favourite birdseed. How much do you need? Not much, a handful. You’re not going to poison him, are you? Not to worry.
A few minutes later Sansone returns and hands Lascano a little paper envelope filled with white powder.
Do you smoke, Sansone? Don’t even mention it, I quit a year ago. How about the sergeant? Let’s ask.
They take a few steps over to the officer, who’s dozing at his desk.
Hey, Medina, do you smoke? Yes, sir. Do you mind showing me your pack of cigarettes?
Medina takes a pack of half-crushed Particulares out of his jacket pocket and hands it to Lascano, who empties the contents out onto the desk. The two policemen watch him, intrigued. Perro pulls out the foil, puts it aside and returns the cigarettes to the box. He shakes out the foil and brushes off all traces of tobacco with his hand. He smoothes it out on the edge of the desk, blows on it, lays it down with the foil side facing up and pours some of the boric acid into it. He folds the paper carefully, fashioning a small envelope. He thanks the sergeant, motions to the deputy superintendent and they return to the cell. Lascano sits down in front of Dandy; Sansone sits to one side and watches. The prisoner’s eyes are irresistibly drawn to the little envelope on the table. He squirms in his chair. Lascano opens the envelope, just enough to give him a glimpse of the white powder.
I brought you some candy. Wouldn’t a snort right about now be nice, Dandy? Don’t fuck with me, Lascano. I’m not. I’m making you a business proposition. What? You give me information and I give you a little blow. You give me nothing and I snort it all myself. I’m not selling out to nobody…
Dandy’s entire body betrays the urgency he feels for the coke. Nothing would feel better right now than sucking that anaesthetic in through his nostrils. Lascano observes him carefully — the prisoner has eyes only for the powder — takes a shiny new banknote out of his pocket and begins to roll it into a straw. Dandy starts to get desperate as Perro takes out the card Fermin gave him at the bank and traces two equal and parallel lines of powder on the foil.