“I’ll be in touch,” Norma says to Ana.
Wake up, Norma, Silvio told her.
* * *
Should she file a complaint? But to whom? If Silvio did go abroad, what exactly would her complaint be?
If the real estate people went through everything in Silvio’s apartment, they must have seen Norma’s letters, and read them. Luckily, she’d given a different name at the office. Norma Bersalino, trying out what her boyfriend’s name will sound like after they’re married.
She goes back to Núñez, wishing that walking the streets would somehow lead her to Silvio. In Cabildo she finally finds a call center and asks for a phone book. She squeezes into a booth so that nobody can hear her. She looks up a private eye and asks for an appointment. It’s urgent. Yes, she can be there in an hour.
A modest detective’s office on Viamonte Street. She wants to find Silvio’s old friends. From way back. She asks the detective to check if he went abroad . . . legally. “I mean,” she says, “with papers.” But besides his birthday, Norma doesn’t know any other personal details.
“It’s fine, we’ll figure it out.”
“I can’t afford much.”
“No problem, you can pay in installments. Six payments. Come back Thursday, sometime in the afternoon. It’ll be hard to find his friends, but I’ll try.”
* * *
A kid opens the door at Silvio’s sister’s house and lets her in. She asks for the sister just as she and her husband walk in.
“Who is this?” the husband asks.
“A friend. She was one of Silvio’s students. Back in school.”
The man smiles sarcastically, making a gesture to his wife that Norma doesn’t understand.
“Come on in,” she says to Norma, though she’s already inside. The husband hovers, keeping a close eye on Norma. But the sister doesn’t know anything, surely Silvio has told her nothing.
But then, whispering, the sister says: “He was involved with something. That’s all I know. And then he was gone.”
“And have you filed for habeas corpus?” Norma asks, also whispering.
“No. My husband doesn’t want to get involved. Doesn’t want any problems. We didn’t see him much anyway,” she says. “And we have kids around.”
“Is the apartment on Vidal his as well? Your mother bought it, right? And then put it in Silvio’s name?”
The woman questions why she’s asking so much about the apartment.
“I don’t know. I’m worried. I want to find Silvio, and it occurs to me that he might have stopped by that apartment. Do you know anyone, any of his friends, somebody who could help me?”
As the sister shakes her head, her husband replies, “We didn’t like his friends.”
Norma thanks them for their time and then, to cut the tension, asks which bus she should take to get to Cabildo and Pedraza, the 168 or the 52?
She walks back by the apartment. If anybody from the agency sees her, they’ll suppose that she actually wants to buy it.
She’s waiting at the taxi stand when Silvio’s nephew rushes up to her. “You were asking about Silvio, right?”
“Yeah.”
He hands her a paper with a name—Beto—and a number on it.
“It’s my uncle, Silvio’s cousin. They still see each other. And this is a friend of his who helped me out on a test once.” He scribbles another number. “Plus Aunt Maru. She gets along with Silvio. Good luck, lady. If you find anything, call me. My name’s Mauro.”
She wants to hug him, but he dashes away.
* * *
She needs an accomplice; she can’t do it all alone. She can’t tell her boyfriend since he wouldn’t understand about Silvio, especially if she told him that he was the first man she’d ever slept with. What about Gaby? Ever since returning to Buenos Aires, Norma’s wanted to go see her. Gaby is married and living in Núñez.
As soon as she gets out of the taxi, she looks for a pay phone and calls Gaby, who immediately invites Norma over. Perfect, she thinks.
Gaby even has some news for her: she’s pregnant, very happy, yes, but also dying of fear, it’s no time to be having a child, she would like to flee.
“But why?” Norma asks her. “Gaby, you’re so—”
“Ay, Norma. Do you live in Rosario or on Mars?”
Norma replies that she lives in Buenos Aires now, in a hotel, until she can find an apartment to buy for her parents.
Gaby remembers some of the details Norma used to tell her about Silvio. But unfortunately, she doesn’t remember where Silvio used to go for his secret meetings. Gaby drives a tiny little Fiat, given to her by her in-laws, and in it they swing by the apartment, and then park, secretively, across from the real estate office.
“It looks like it’s about to close,” Gaby says. “Duck down.”
Ana comes out and closes the door behind her. She walks to the corner, hails a cab, and Norma and Gaby immediately start tailing her—just like in the movies, though it’s easier because the taxi doesn’t know it’s being followed. The cab pulls over at 4300 11 de Septiembre Street, at the corner of Libertador, and Ana gets out and walks down Correa Avenue. Norma and Gaby stay on 11 de Septiembre, making sure that they’re not seen, and then double back and stop at the corner of Libertador.
“There she is,” Gaby says. “She’s crossed the street. But where is she going? It’s not possible . . .” They speed past as Ana enters the Naval School of Mechanical Engineering.
“Slow down!” Norma barks. “You’re going to kill us.”
“Did you see where she went? Into the ESMA! The girl is a marine! Do you know what goes on in there?”
“No.”
“They torture people. Kill them. You better be careful, Norma. This could be really dangerous.”
But instead of stepping back, Norma decides that she won’t give up until she finds Silvio, even if it’s dangerous. Today, she realizes, will mark a before and an after in her life.
They return to Gaby’s place and call Luis; he’s out with some friends, but agrees to meet up with them the following day.
Now to call those numbers that the nephew gave Norma—good kid, not like his parents. Beto doesn’t answer and doesn’t have a machine.
His Aunt Maru doesn’t know anything either, and also sounds worried. “Are you a friend of Silvio’s? Why don’t you come and see me tomorrow?”
“Do you know Beto?”
“Yeah, he’s Mirta’s son, Silvio’s cousin.”
“Could you send him a message from me? That Norma called?” She gives her Gaby’s number.
Not an hour passes before Beto calls from a pay phone.
“I’m Norma, Silvio’s friend.”
“His student?”
She feels proud that Silvio had mentioned her to somebody. “Can you talk? It’s urgent.”
“About what?”
She tells him that she knows something about Silvio, and wants to see if he can tell her anything else. She thinks of giving him Gaby’s address, but decides instead to meet him at a pizza joint close to Silvio’s old place.
She calls the private eye again. They set up a meeting for the next day, Thursday, at eleven.
“You can’t meet sooner?” Norma asks.
“It’s been more than a year since you’ve heard anything of your friend, and now you can’t wait a few hours? No, I can’t meet earlier.”
“Please.”
He gives in and tells her that Silvio didn’t leave the country, and that he has a name to give her.
* * *
They start planning that night. It’s the four of them now, including Leandro, Gaby’s husband, and Beto, who takes charge.
The following day Norma will go to the real estate office. She’ll tell them that she wants to see the apartment again, that her parents are interested. She’ll take a camera and snap pictures for evidence. Her parents will have to come to see the place eventually, though Norma doesn’t want to get them involved in the whole mess. T
hey decide to pass off another couple as her parents, though they’ll have to hunt down some willing partners to pull this off. After the visit, Norma will confirm her interest, make a high offer, and ask for all of the relevant paperwork.
Leandro offers to ask a friend who is almost done training to be a notary to help them with the paperwork.
“But don’t we need to make an offer first?” Norma asks.
“If you have the cash,” Beto tells her, “you can go straight to a notary to handle the paperwork.”
“And do you have the cash?”
“We’ll have it. Listen, Norma, this is going to work, believe me. You’ll have the money and you’ll act the part. We just need to get that money in order.”
“And then?” Norma presses, hoping they don’t see that her legs have begun to tremble, that she can’t swallow. Nobody says anything. It’s scary. It was Norma who called this meeting, who put the group together. Wake up, Norma, Silvio had said. She knows Gaby, her husband seems like a decent guy, but she’s still not sure about Beto. He must be able to feel her anxiety. He cuts the meeting short.
“That’s enough for today. We’re tired. We each have our work cut out for us. We’ll figure out the rest tomorrow.”
“Will we find Silvio?” Norma asks, her voice quivering.
Beto grabs her hand. “I don’t know, Normita. But we’ll either find him or avenge him.”
“Avenge him?” She wants to get out of there before they realize what she’s feeling and before they say what they might do. She’s not going to kill anybody, not the guy at the real estate office, despite how awful he seems, and not the girl. Nobody.
Wake up, Norma.
“Tomorrow I’ll talk to the detective,” she says, to cover up her nerves, to be part of the group. “Though he already told me that Silvio hasn’t left the country.”
“Yeah, he might be involved himself. Don’t even think about giving him my name,” says Beto.
“Or ours,” Gaby chimes in.
* * *
The name the detective has for Norma is Beto’s. She remembers Beto’s warning not to give too much away, and doesn’t say anything. But maybe it will be fine—the detective decides not to charge her anything.
“Take care of yourself, girl,” he tells her. “You should probably forget about your friend Silvio. Maybe, with some luck, they’ll release him.”
She thinks about suggesting that he look into a certain real estate firm in Núñez. Suddenly, however, she feels a chill climbing up her spine, and she decides to tell him nothing.
* * *
At nine the next night the same group meets back up at Gaby’s along with the soon-to-be notary. Beto has new information.
They’d all done their work with a discipline that was surprising for such a new group. Norma relays her conversation with the detective; Beto tells them he filed a habeas corpus petition, and that he found out that Silvio let a friend named Colorado spend a week in the apartment. Norma shares that the girl from the firm wouldn’t let her take any photos of the apartment, saying that it was too messy, and that they hadn’t had time to clean up since it had just gone on the market. Norma had asked her if they could write up a contract since her parents were ready to buy.
“Without even seeing it?” Ana had replied.
“Of course they’re going to see it first,” Norma said. “They trust me, but not that much.”
The almost-notary tells Norma that she should get a photocopy of the deed. Once they have that, he can look into what’s going on; he assumes they will probably want to switch ownership over from Silvio to one of their own henchmen.
The only problem now is that they still need to find two people to stand in as Norma’s parents. Maybe Silvio’s aunt and a friend of hers? She did say she was up for anything. Beto says no—Silvio’s aunt filed the habeas, and one of her family members has already gone missing. It’s a bad idea.
For a moment Norma considers passing off her future in-laws as her parents. They’d be perfect. They don’t know a thing, and so they’d ask questions and make comments that would seem believable. She’s sure they would agree to do it, but she’d also feel guilty dragging Luis into this.
As soon as she pitches the idea to the group, they all say no. No outsiders. “Got that? Just us.”
“The parents aren’t necessary,” Leandro says. “They can just trust their daughter on this. They’ll give her the power of attorney and we’ll have one less problem.”
“Falsified power of attorney?”
“Of course. One false document for the notary to draw up.”
The plan seems as simple and natural as buying a pair of shoes. What none of them say, however, and what Norma doesn’t even ask, is what the final objective is. When the details are put in order, when the pieces all line up with each other, then what?
They agree to meet again—after finishing their individual tasks—in two days.
* * *
Luis thinks it odd that Norma doesn’t want him to come along when she meets up with her group. “If your friend is married, why don’t all of us go out together?” he asks.
Frustrated, Norma tells him that she is helping Gaby with something, something important and private that she can’t talk to him about.
“Just be careful,” he tells her. “If she’s in trouble, don’t get involved. How well do you even know her?”
She nearly tells him off, but what she does instead is give him a kiss, before sweetly saying goodbye.
* * *
Norma explains her issues with the bathroom and the kitchen to Ana. She’s trying to get the price down. She doesn’t want any of the furniture, but she does like the bed.
But what is Ana thinking? Is she believing any of it?
After another walk-through Norma makes an offer, which, three days later, is accepted.
“In about two weeks we can sign the paperwork,” the almost-notary says to Norma. “If that sounds good to everyone, I will get started on the paperwork and write up the contract. Or, rather, I’ll tell Ana that I’ll just hand it to my client, as I’m heading off on vacation in a few days, and then she can give it to one of my assistants.”
Beto is a bit skeptical of the almost-notary since he’s not an official notary yet. But Norma isn’t.
“What does it matter,” she asks, “if we’re not actually going through with the contract?”
“Yeah, you’re right,” agrees Beto.
Norma then hands over the documents the firm gave her and they notice that there is a piece missing—the firm didn’t include a signature. Maybe they are still deciding who will sign.
They talk through the whole plan: what Norma has to do, how many of the bad guys will be around.
“The bad guys, yes, they’re awful,” Beto says.
Norma is worried. How did it come to this, to this ghost firm, to friends going missing?
“You’re just nervous,” Gaby says, trying to calm her. “We’re all here to help you.”
“Normita,” Beto adds, “if you’re scared you don’t have to stay the whole time. Just at the beginning, just to drop off the papers.”
“They’re not even going to read the contract. When the head guy comes in we’ll have them all inside where we want them.”
“And then what do I do?” Norma asks, when what she really wants to know is what they are going to do.
“Once it starts, just go into the bathroom, and don’t come out until it’s all over.”
They laugh. But it’s also a serious question: What will they do?
“We’ll take them hostage,” Beto says, “and then demand that they release our friend.”
Norma exhales, relieved. She looks at them and smiles. All this time worrying, thinking of bloodshed, when all they want is to take them hostage. It feels good, better. And now it’s time for action.
* * *
The day arrives. As planned, Norma goes to the notary office at three in the afternoon. There are two other people in
the waiting room, sitting on comfortable black leather sofas. If it weren’t for Gaby, who is posing as the receptionist, she would think she’s in a real notary’s office, and that she is there to sign a contract to buy a three-room apartment with a patio in Núñez.
“Miss Bersalino, please follow me,” Gaby says.
She follows Gaby into a large room with an oval table and chairs. There is a door at the other side of the room.
“I’ll take your documents, please,” Gaby says. “And the power of attorney from your parents.”
Beto is a genius. It all seems so legit: there are strangers in the waiting room, Gaby as the receptionist to calm Norma’s nerves, even a ringing phone.
“Would you like a coffee? The notary will be with you momentarily. We’re waiting for the other party to arrive.”
“Just a glass of water, please,” Norma says.
She never thought Beto would actually be able to pull off something like this. But where is he right now? Gaby reappears, flashes her perfect smile. “Please follow me,” she says. Three men come in after her. The awful man from the real estate office, a fat man, and an incredibly skinny, hunchbacked guy who stares at the floor. All three are wearing suits.
“Have a seat. The notary is finishing up a meeting and will be with you shortly. Would you like anything to drink?”
“A coffee,” the fat man says.
“Coke,” the awful man says.
“And you?” Gaby asks the skinny one.
The man lifts his head slightly. His hair is greased back, and he has enormous bags under his eyes. It’s Silvio! Fifteen years older and forty pounds thinner.
“A tea, please.”
And then he glances at Norma. An intense but fleeting glance. Or maybe she just imagines this.
“Miss,” the fat man says, “tell the notary that we don’t have much time.”
“And which of you is Señor Cilmes?” Gaby asks. “Your papers, please.”
With a blank look on his face, Silvio hands over the documents. Norma still isn’t sure if he’s noticed her or not. She doesn’t want him to know she’s there: she’s scared of what could happen, and yet, at the same time, she feels a certain pride, and wants him to see her. Look at me. You asked me to wake up. Well, here I am.
Buenos Aires Noir Page 14
