‘Do you think Euclides just took the gun and ran?’ I asked Cordelia, during a subdued supper.
‘I don’t know,’ she said. ‘I don’t think so. He’s a brave boy, and he’s proud of his courage. A lot of these kids are.’
‘People don’t seem to care so much about death here,’ I said.
‘You’re right. Life is cheap. Do you know what train-surfing is?’
‘No.’
‘It’s a big sport for the street children. They leap on trains as they are moving, and climb on to the roofs. The most dangerous part is when the trains go through tunnels. The kids compete with each other to see who is the last to jump off. Dozens die every year doing this. Euclides had quite a reputation as a train-surfer.’
‘But will he find Isabel?’
‘I think he’ll try to look for her for me.’
‘He’s very attached to you.’
Cordelia’s shoulders sagged. ‘Yes. So he takes a gun and he risks his life with people who would kill him if they knew what he was doing. He’ll use that gun one day, you know.’
Fernando put his hand on hers. ‘You had to give him the gun, minha querida. It is not like the normal world. In the favelas you have to do things for your family that you would not do outside. You know that. You’ve seen that.’
‘Yes, I’ve seen others resort to guns and violence,’ Cordelia muttered. ‘But I never believed I would.’
After supper, as we drank caipirinhas on the balcony, Cordelia watched me, smiling. It was a bit like her sister’s smile, though stronger, more self-confident. But still a reminder of Isabel. It was nice.
‘It’s funny, finally, to meet one of Isabel’s boyfriends,’ she said.
‘Does she keep them well hidden?’
‘She claims there aren’t any. Or none since Marcelo, anyway.’
‘That’s what she told me.’ I decided not to mention Ricardo. ‘What was this Marcelo like?’
‘Good-looking. I mean, really good-looking. But he knew it.’ Cordelia wrinkled her nose. ‘Isabel was completely gone on him. And I think, when he was with her, he was in love with her. But then when she went to the US his attention wandered. I knew it would. Isabel took it badly. I think it’s good they never got married.’
I agreed with that. ‘Anyway, I don’t know if I qualify,’ I said.
‘As a boyfriend?’ Cordelia’s eyes twinkled. ‘I’m sure you do, if she’s got any sense. And Isabel has got sense.’
‘We’ll see.’
We talked a lot, that weekend, Fernando, Cordelia and me. I was really beginning to feel part of the Pereira family. Yet Cordelia’s words had both encouraged and disquieted me. I sometimes felt I hardly knew Isabel herself. She had already spent more time in captivity than I had known her outside it. If we did get her out alive, would our relationship ever come to anything? Logically I couldn’t be sure. But from what I had seen of her, and the way we were together, I had to believe it would amount to something. She had to live, so that I could find out.
By Sunday there was still no news from Euclides. We only had three more days.
Cordelia went to the shelter early on Monday morning. She phoned me at the apartment soon after she arrived. Euclides was there, waiting for her. He had found Isabel.
Once more Nelson and I made our way up to the shelter. We met Euclides in the same room we had seen him in before. This time he was much more talkative, his eyes shining from his adventure. His friend had not known where Isabel was held, but he did know a couple of her captors, and had shown Euclides where they parked their pick-up truck, which was always full of junk. On Sunday, Euclides had hidden in the back, and had been driven up to the hills behind Rio. The truck had eventually passed through a village and up a dirt track, to a deserted farmhouse. Euclides had taken note of the name of the village. Fortunately, he hadn’t been discovered, although if he had been, he said he had a story ready about how he was trying to hitch a lift out of town. It seemed to me he had taken an absurd risk, but I was very glad he had.
The name of the village was Sao Jose.
Euclides agreed to show us the place. We went in Nelson’s car, and he stopped on the way to buy a baseball cap for me so that my pale English features would be partly obscured in the car. We drove for an hour and a half northwards, through a range of steep green hills of pasture and forest, before coming to the village of Sao Jose.
It was a collection of white-painted houses with orange rooftops and bright blue doors, nestling at the head of a valley. Sheep grazed meadows on either side. Euclides led us out of the village and over a bridge and then told us to stop. A poorly metalled road branched off to the right, and wound up the hillside, through the sheep pasture. It passed two small farms, and seemed to peter out near the top of the hill, at a single small white building.
He pointed to it. ‘La,’ he said.
We drove back to Rio in heated discussion.
‘We have to go to the police,’ said Nelson. ‘We have no choice. It’s Monday today. The final bid for Dekker Ward will be decided on Wednesday. We must free her before then.’
‘But you know what happened last time,’ I protested. ‘The kidnappers were tipped off. Isabel was almost killed. They will definitely kill her this time.’
‘There’s a risk. I know there’s a risk. But the Rio police have a lot of experience.’
‘Oh, come on. I bet they’ll burst in, guns blazing, shoot all the kidnappers, and hope that Isabel is the only one left alive.’
‘I tell you, Nick, it can work. If they have surprise.’
‘But they won’t have surprise, will they? Some little policeman will tip the kidnappers off.’
‘I’ll talk to Da Silva. We won’t tell the police who it is we’re freeing until the last moment. There are a dozen kidnap hostages hidden somewhere in Rio today. If there is a policeman passing on information, he won’t know which one we are targeting until it’s too late.’
We drove on in silence, Euclides in the back, listening closely to the argument even though he didn’t understand it.
‘Look,’ said Nelson. ‘I know how you feel. But if we leave Isabel where she is she’ll probably be killed. If the police go in to get her she has a better chance of survival. It’s as simple as that. We’ll talk to Luís when we get back, and then I’ll phone Da Silva.’
I didn’t reply. I knew he was right. Either way there was a good chance that Isabel would die. I couldn’t avoid that. All I could do was watch while Luís made the most logical decision: send in the police.
Of course, this had been implicit the whole time we had been looking for Isabel. The unspoken assumption was that we would get her out once we found her. But then the idea of finding her had given us a glimmer of hope. Now that we knew where she was, and a rescue attempt seemed inevitable, all the risks that that involved suddenly became much more apparent.
I thought of Ricardo and Eduardo and felt a surge of anger. They were responsible for this. Together with Francisco. He was a father. How would he feel if it were his son in that farmhouse, with only a day or two to live?
Of course!
‘Nelson, I have an idea.’
He sighed. ‘Another one. We’re running out of time for ideas.’
‘No, listen. This one will work.’
29
We were a ramshackle gang. Cordelia was at Luís’s apartment by the phone. Nelson, his associate Ronaldo, Euclides and I were in the car, one of two Nelson had bought the evening before from a car thief he knew. And Luís himself was in London at the Savoy Hotel, praying for our success. Nelson, Ronaldo and I had guns. We had let Euclides come with us as long as he left his treasured gun behind. He might turn out to be useful.