heard music, voices, and laughter. A full house.
“You really are something for getting people to spill their guts, Lieutenant. What a job you did, bringing him along until he told at least something.”
“I didn’t get all he knows. If we’d had more time, he might have told the whole story.” He spit and took a deep breath, as if to fill his lungs with the sea air. “I’ll tell you something, Lituma. Know what I think?”
“What, Lieutenant?”
“That on the base everybody knows what happened. From the cook to Mindreau.”
“I wouldn’t be surprised. At least that’s the impression I got from Lieutenant Dufó. That he knows perfectly well who killed Molero.”
They walked a good distance in silence through a sleeping Talara. Most of the wooden shacks were dark, except for an occasional candle. Up above, behind the fences in the restricted zone, it was also pitch-dark.
Suddenly the lieutenant spoke in a different tone of voice. “Lituma, how’d you like to do me a big favor? Go down to the fishermen’s wharf and see if The Lion of Talara has set sail. If it’s gone, just go to bed. But if it’s still there, I’ll be over at Doña Adriana’s.”
“What, Lieutenant? This must mean that . . .”
“It means I’m going to make my move. I don’t know if tonight’s the night. Maybe yes, maybe no. But why not take a shot at it? It’s taking much longer than I ever thought it would, but someday it’s gonna happen. Know why? Because I’ve made a vow: I won’t die until I screw that fat bitch and until I find out who killed Palomino Molero. Those are my two goals in life, Lituma. Even more important than a promotion—although I wouldn’t take that too seriously if I were you. Go on, get going.”
“How can he feel like doing that now?” He thought about Doña Adriana curled up in her bed, dreaming, unaware of the visit she was going to get. “Damn! What a crazy fucker this Lieutenant Silva’d turned out to be. Would he screw her tonight? No way.” Lituma was sure Doña Adriana would never give in. Most of the boats had already sailed, and there were only a half dozen on the beach. The Lion of Talara was not one of them. He checked them one by one to be sure. Just as he was leaving, he noticed a shadow leaning against one of the beached boats.
“Good evening.”
“Evening,” said the woman, as if annoyed at being interrupted.
“For God’s sake, what are you doing here at this hour of the night, Doña Adriana?” She wore a black shirt over her dress and was barefoot, as usual.
“I came to bring Matías his lunch. And after he left, I stayed to cool off. I’m not sleepy. And you, Lituma? What brings you down here? Meeting a girl?”
Lituma laughed. He hunkered down in front of Doña Adriana, taking advantage of the dim light to examine her abundant figure, those generous curves Lieutenant Silva lusted after.
“What are you laughing at? Have you gone crazy, or are you drunk? I know, you’ve been over at Liau’s place.”
“Nothing like that, Dofla Adriana. If I tell you, you’ll die laughing, too.”
“Tell me, then. And don’t laugh by yourself like that; you look like a jerk.”
Doña Adriana was usually in a good mood and was a spirited woman, but Lituma could see that tonight she was a bit melancholy. She had her arms crossed in front of her chest and was digging in the sand with one foot.
‘Something bothering you, Doña Adriana?” Now Lituma was serious.
“Bothering me? No. But something’s got me worried Lituma. Matías won’t go to the clinic. He’s so stubborn and I can’t convince him.”
She paused and sighed. She said that for at least a month her husband had been hoarse and when he coughed hard he brought up blood. She bought him some medicine at the pharmacy and almost had to force it down his throat, but it hadn’t helped. It might be something serious you couldn’t cure with drugstore medicine. He might need X-rays or an operation. He wouldn’t
“You really are something for getting people to spill their guts, Lieutenant. What a job you did, bringing him along until he told at least something.”
“I didn’t get all he knows. If we’d had more time, he might have told the whole story.” He spit and took a deep breath, as if to fill his lungs with the sea air. “I’ll tell you something, Lituma. Know what I think?”
“What, Lieutenant?”
“That on the base everybody knows what happened. From the cook to Mindreau.”
“I wouldn’t be surprised. At least that’s the impression I got from Lieutenant Dufó. That he knows perfectly well who killed Molero.”
They walked a good distance in silence through a sleeping Talara. Most of the wooden shacks were dark, except for an occasional candle. Up above, behind the fences in the restricted zone, it was also pitch-dark.
Suddenly the lieutenant spoke in a different tone of voice. “Lituma, how’d you like to do me a big favor? Go down to the fishermen’s wharf and see if The Lion of Talara has set sail. If it’s gone, just go to bed. But if it’s still there, I’ll be over at Doña Adriana’s.”
“What, Lieutenant? This must mean that . . .”
“It means I’m going to make my move. I don’t know if tonight’s the night. Maybe yes, maybe no. But why not take a shot at it? It’s taking much longer than I ever thought it would, but someday it’s gonna happen. Know why? Because I’ve made a vow: I won’t die until I screw that fat bitch and until I find out who killed Palomino Molero. Those are my two goals in life, Lituma. Even more important than a promotion—although I wouldn’t take that too seriously if I were you. Go on, get going.”
“How can he feel like doing that now?” He thought about Doña Adriana curled up in her bed, dreaming, unaware of the visit she was going to get. “Damn! What a crazy fucker this Lieutenant Silva’d turned out to be. Would he screw her tonight? No way.” Lituma was sure Doña Adriana would never give in. Most of the boats had already sailed, and there were only a half dozen on the beach. The Lion of Talara was not one of them. He checked them one by one to be sure. Just as he was leaving, he noticed a shadow leaning against one of the beached boats.
“Good evening.”
“Evening,” said the woman, as if annoyed at being interrupted.
“For God’s sake, what are you doing here at this hour of the night, Doña Adriana?” She wore a black shirt over her dress and was barefoot, as usual.
“I came to bring Matías his lunch. And after he left, I stayed to cool off. I’m not sleepy. And you, Lituma? What brings you down here? Meeting a girl?”
Lituma laughed. He hunkered down in front of Doña Adriana, taking advantage of the dim light to examine her abundant figure, those generous curves Lieutenant Silva lusted after.
“What are you laughing at? Have you gone crazy, or are you drunk? I know, you’ve been over at Liau’s place.”
“Nothing like that, Dofla Adriana. If I tell you, you’ll die laughing, too.”
“Tell me, then. And don’t laugh by yourself like that; you look like a jerk.”
Doña Adriana was usually in a good mood and was a spirited woman, but Lituma could see that tonight she was a bit melancholy. She had her arms crossed in front of her chest and was digging in the sand with one foot.
‘Something bothering you, Doña Adriana?” Now Lituma was serious.
“Bothering me? No. But something’s got me worried Lituma. Matías won’t go to the clinic. He’s so stubborn and I can’t convince him.”
She paused and sighed. She said that for at least a month her husband had been hoarse and when he coughed hard he brought up blood. She bought him some medicine at the pharmacy and almost had to force it down his throat, but it hadn’t helped. It might be something serious you couldn’t cure with drugstore medicine. He might need X-rays or an operation. He wouldn’t
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