The Street Angel

by Robert Gollagher

  “Then, how do you feel about us, Bob?”

  “When I was a kid, my father used to take me to the state fair. We had a wheat farm in Minnesota. You know, I couldn’t get away from that damn place fast enough. I hated it, hated being a country boy. My brother loved it. But I wanted to make something of my life ... I don’t know ... make it in the big city. I got a job in an insurance office in town, selling policies. That’s how I got into stockbroking.”

  “I didn’t know you had a brother.”

  “Oh yeah. He’s the successful one. Runs the farm now that Mom and Dad are gone. He’s got three kids. He was the smart one.”

  “Don’t say that, Bob. You’re smart too.”

  “How smart? I ended up in Manhattan, making a lot of money. Maybe that’s smart. Married Emily. Dumb. Everything kind of went downhill from there. And here I am in Brazil,” Richards said sarcastically, “a big success.”

  “Couldn’t you ask your brother for some help?”

  “I promised myself I never would. I wasn’t going to be a burden on David. He’s got kids to put through college. No.”

  “He probably wants to help you.”

  “That’s his problem. David was always too kind for his own good. He’s squeaky clean. If I asked, if I let him help, he’d go broke trying. No, I’ll handle the IRS – and the others – myself. It’s just gonna take a few years.”

  “Then you will go back to the States one day?”

  “Yeah. I’ll get back home.”

  “Hmmm.” Susan squeezed his arm.

  “Anyway, Dad used to take me to the fair. We’d look at tractors, cats, harvesters, all the latest hardware. It’s funny. I hated being a farm boy, but I loved those machines. I loved the new ones. All that fresh paint, the smell of those big tyres, taller than I was. I was ashamed of the old tractors we had – covered in rust, paint all chipped off. But my dad used to show me a brand new harvester and say, ‘Wouldn’t it be great to have one of those, Bobby? Man, what we could do with one of those.’ And then he’d lead me away from it after a while and say, ‘But that’s not for the likes of us. We’ll just have to make do with what we have.’ Dad never did buy anything new. We bought everything second-hand.”

  “Money isn’t everything, Bob. What did it matter?”

  “Yeah. You’re right. It didn’t really matter. That’s not what I mean. It was just like this dream, it was always out of reach. And I went chasing the dream. To Wall Street. And I made it. I really made it. For a while.”

  “You’re still the same person. Probably a better person.”

  “Maybe so. But you know what I’m saying? All my life I wanted something better, I reached out for it, but every time I grabbed onto it, it just slipped through my fingers. Rich and then poor again. Married and then divorced. I love my country and now I can’t even go back. You know what I’m saying, Sue?”

  “I think I do,” Susan replied quietly.

  “You know how I feel about you, Sue. I just don’t want to say it.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because when you leave, I’ll have to remember I said it.”

  Susan sat up and looked at him. “But I’m not going to leave.”

  “Sure you are. You’re going to go back to Adrian when this is all over, back to London, back to your old life. You know that, Sue.”

  “Perhaps I wouldn’t go if you gave me a reason to stay. I told you, I just want to be here with you. I just want to be with you.”

  “Come on, Sue. You know I want you to stay. And you know I love you. There, okay ... I said it. I love you. And that’s the truth.”

  Susan felt a strange thrill, fear and happiness at once. She lay down again and didn’t speak for a few moments. She knew it was true.

  “I don’t want to lose you, Bob. I want us to be together.”

  “I know,” Richards whispered.

  Soon they were asleep.

  Chapter 18

  Maria Anna del Campo sat on her luxurious bed, brushing her hair and waiting for her husband. For once he had made no excuse and was coming to bed early, although he still had not removed his uniform. Maria was annoyed when the bedside telephone rang.

  “Leave it, Fernando. Come to bed.”

  General del Campo stopped struggling with the knot in his tie. “You know I must always answer the telephone. It could be the barracks.”

  “Then answer it, if you must. But do we have no privacy?”

  The general picked up the phone. “Del Campo.”

  Maria continued brushing her hair. “Who is it, Fernando?”

  The general ignored her. Then he said into the telephone, “Very well. Immediately. I will be there.” He put the receiver down thoughtfully.

  “Who was it?” Maria repeated.

  “Who, my dear? It was the barracks. There is an emergency.”

  Maria threw down her hairbrush. “Fernando, we were to spend tonight together. One night with my husband. Is that too much to ask?”

  “I am sorry, Maria, but business is business. I must go.”

  Maria stood up. “Are you sure it was the barracks, Fernando? So many nights now you are away. Are you sure it was not a woman?”

  The general replied angrily. “A woman? A woman? No, Maria, for the last time, it was not a woman. There is no woman. It was the barracks. You know I have responsibilities. A man in my position is always on call.”

  Maria slumped onto the bed. “Ah, I know, Fernando. It’s just that I wanted us to be together tonight, you know that.”

  The general tried not to show his revulsion at her sickly, romantic smile. Her wrinkled face was smeared with make-up, as usual, and she still wore all the ridiculous gold chains and bangles he hated so much. Even worse, she had just had her grey hair dyed an appalling shade of burgundy. He found her repulsive. Nevertheless he forced himself to kiss her on the cheek. “I will miss you, my dear. But I must go.”

  “Ah, very well Fernando.”

  “Don’t wait up for me, my dear. I will be very late.”

  “But you will return?”

  “Yes, I will return. I promise.”

  Maria said nothing more. She watched her husband grab his briefcase and walk quickly out of the bedroom.

  General del Campo was a practised liar. He knew the rules of lying so well he could do it successfully even when distracted. His performance with Maria had been exemplary. He had not shown one hint of how angry he was, of the fire that raged inside him. He wanted to smash furniture, wanted to kill, but he had hidden it all. Maria would never know that he had just been given an ultimatum by a limp-dicked old judge.

  He drove himself to the judge’s office. He did not want a chauffeur for this particular errand. And as he drove he let his anger come to the surface. The screaming note of the engine of his bulletproof limousine was testimony to the fact that someone, someone would pay for what had happened.

  When he arrived in the dark courtyard and climbed the steps to Judge Marcus’s office, it was after eleven. The shops were all closed and deserted and even the beggars had gone to their hiding holes for the night. He was met by an impudent young legal clerk who insisted on frisking him rather more thoroughly than usual and removing his sidearm. The clerk ran some kind of portable antenna over him also, as if checking him for bugs.

  At last the clerk led him to the judge’s private office. The general strode in angrily as the clerk closed the door, leaving his boss to do business in private with the infamous General Del Campo.

  Judge Marcus was seated behind his large desk when the general entered. “Good evening, General. Please have a seat. My apologies for having my clerk search you. A necessary precaution, you understand. These days so many people carry electronic surveillance equipment.”

  Del Campo sat down. “What do you want, Marcus? What’s the meaning of this outrage? Calling me here in the middle of the night ...”

  “As I said on the telephone, General, an urgent matter has come to my attention. The bureaucrats in Brasilia
want me to give it top priority. The public execution of a fifteen-year-old boy, without trial. A serious matter, no?”

  “I don’t see what it has to do with me. And I don’t see why you couldn’t have met me at your home like a decent man, instead of treating me with such poor hospitality. This is not the way a decent man does business.”

  “Really? Is that right? And what would you know about decent men, General? I may not be much of a man myself, as you are so fond of telling everyone, but decency is not your strength.”

  “You brought me here to insult me, Marcus?”

  “Merely to make a transaction, General. Strictly business, I assure you. First of all, while we are speaking of decency, there is the small matter of your affair with one Juliet Catherina Formosa. You keep her in a penthouse apartment on the beach at Boa Viagem. She is from a very well-connected São Paulo family, I am told. What she sees in you, I have no idea. Of course I have photographs. A wonderful thing, the telephoto lens. You should be more careful what you do out on the balcony, General.” Marcus threw a number of black-and-white prints across the desk. The photographs showed Juliet Formosa in her lingerie, embracing a half-naked, drunk del Campo.

  The general looked briefly at the photographs. “Blackmail, Judge?”

  “Yes, my general. Blackmail. But that is just for starters. At any rate, when we speak of decency I am sure your wife would be ... disappointed to hear you are running off to screw this pretty young thing every week.”

  “Watch your mouth, Marcus,” the general spat. “I love Juliet. I will be leaving my wife soon enough. So if you have nothing more than this to say, may I suggest you make sure your last will and testament is in order.”

  “May I remind you, General del Campo, that I have very powerful friends in Brasilia, and you know perfectly well that if anything happens to me, something equally fatal will happen to you. I am not one of the nobodies you can simply make disappear. So why not dispense with the threats?”

  “Don’t interfere with Juliet. It’s not what you think. I love her. And a man in love will do stupid things, even to you.”

  Marcus narrowed his eyes, calculating quickly as he spoke. “Love? Really? I didn’t realise. In that case, my apologies.”

  “You didn’t bring me here to discuss Juliet.”

  “No, I didn’t. But I thought it might be helpful to let you know that I knew about her. Now, down to business. The murder of the street kid. Unfortunately there is a video of the sad event. Now we have photographs in the newspapers. A captain of the Pernambuco Military Police putting a bullet in the skull of this poor, fifteen-year-old child.”

  “You know as well as I do, these kids are killers.”

  “Naturally. I’m with you, General. A job well done, if you ask me. But the press are not so sympathetic, especially the foreign press. And as you know, the IMF is reviewing its funding at the moment. Naturally, Brasilia is nervous about all these ... stories of children being executed. It’s hard to ask the international bankers for an extra hundred million or two while you have atrocities being committed in public. So Brasilia is looking for a scapegoat. As Chief of Military Police, you would make an excellent scapegoat. A nice, high-profile figure to please the reporters. We in the judiciary must be seen to seek justice. Of course you understand.”

  The general leaned back in his chair, relaxing. “I can arrange a scapegoat for you, no problem. If that is all you want.”

  “Ah, I’m afraid it’s not quite that simple. Let me play you a little tape. No need to listen to the whole thing, you’ll catch on pretty quick.”

  Marcus put a pocket cassette player on the desk and switched it on. Del Campo heard his own voice. ‘When I tell you to have one of these little runts killed, I mean you to do it in private! You take him away, somewhere there are no cameras, and you dispose of him there. You do not pull out your pistol and shoot him in public. Are you a moron, Captain Sollo?’

  Marcus stopped the tape. “I think that’s enough, don’t you, General?”

  As good a liar as the general was, his poker-face still went a little pale. “You’re in collaboration with that idiot, Sollo? You’re in this together?”

  “Let’s just say that Sollo came to me with a publicity problem and I helped him to solve it. You just heard the solution. Brasilia would be most interested in that tape, along with a testimony from Captain Sollo. At the very least, I’d say they’d start an intensive investigation, send in a few incorruptible federal police, start turning over rocks. All kinds of unpleasant things might come to light, don’t you think?”

  The general leapt up from his chair and yelled out loud. He leaned over the judge’s desk and grabbed him by the collar. “I ought to kill you ...”

  Marcus replied calmly. “Sit down, General, and let me go.”

  For a long moment, del Campo considered breaking the despicable neck of the old judge, but he knew it would be unwise. He let go and sat down again, barely managing to contain his desire to kill.

  Marcus remained completely serene. “That’s better. I’m glad you’ve decided to be civilised about this. Now, you have two choices. You can throw away your career, your fortune, and look forward to a nice long stay in one of our more dangerous jails, or you can do business with me. Which will it be?”

  “What do you want, you impotent old bastard?”

  “A trifle, really. Just two million American dollars. Call it my retirement fund. A couple of million isn’t that much to a man like you. It’s a small price to pay to make this whole nasty business go away forever. And it’s a fair bounty for a man’s life, don’t you agree?”

  “What do you mean, a man’s life?”

  Marcus smiled. “Ah, well, once Sollo has been sent to prison for the murder of the boy, we shall have to make sure he never talks again.”

  The general started to calm down again. “Agreed.”

  “You see how easy these things can be? Then we have a deal?”

  “You’ll get your money.”

  “Very well, General. Now that’s out of the way, might I suggest you find that stolen necklace as soon as possible. I assume it was for Senhorita Formosa. If it really does turn up in the hands of some child, it’s going to look rather incriminating for you. And the whole thing is making a laughing stock of our police. I’m a patriot, General. I don’t like to see my country made to look foolish. I’d like the case solved. But ... just make sure your soldiers don’t get caught on camera, hmmm?”

  Del Campo stood up. “Believe me, Marcus, I will retrieve that necklace if I have to kill every last one of those little street bastards to find it. And yes, it was a gift for Juliet. A gift of love, something I’m sure an old spaghetti-dick like you would not remember. You can’t get the love of a woman by blackmail, Marcus. You have to be a man. A man.”

  Marcus smiled wryly. “Thank you for reminding me.”

  Del Campo leaned over the desk a second time. “Listen, you old bastard. You can have your two million dollars, but I warn you – this is the last time. If you cross me again, I will have you killed, no matter what the consequences of that may be. Do we understand each other?”

  Marcus looked calmly at his angry face. “Perfectly.”

  Judge Marcus smirked as he watched the general walk across the dark courtyard two storeys below. He had not predicted that the general actually loved the young woman, Juliet. It would make everything so much sweeter.

  Chapter 19

  Fernando del Campo was not in a good mood. And when the general was not in a good mood, one thing was for certain – someone had to pay. It was bad enough that he was being blackmailed by a limp-dicked old judge. It was bad enough that his beautiful mistress was threatening to leave him. It was bad enough that he had just finished enduring another breakfast with his dragon of a wife, who mercifully had now gone shopping. All this, he could stomach. But being made a public fool by a bunch of illiterate street kids was the last straw. If the miserable little bastards had not stolen the diamond necklace, he
would not be in this whole mess. And worst of all, even with the entire resources of the Pernambuco Military Police at his disposal, he could not recover the godforsaken thing. He wished he had never agreed to purchase it in the first place. But now, someone would have to pay.

  Bob Richards knew he was in trouble. He didn’t like the way the general had turned his back on him, the way he was pacing back and forth without speaking, no doubt lost in murderous thought. But Richards sat in his cane armchair as calmly as he could and tried to distract himself by looking out over the now familiar sight of the general’s vast swimming pool. For some reason he imagined his own body floating face down with a bullet from the general’s pistol in his back. He shook the image out of his mind and tried not to assume the worst. So the general had summoned him once more to his mansion. It didn’t necessarily mean his number was up. Still, he wished the general was wearing civilian clothes. The uniform made it seem less like a business meeting and more like a military interrogation.

  At last, del Campo stopped pacing. “Well, Mister Richards. What do you suggest we do about it, hmmm? I agreed to pay a quarter-million dollars for a diamond necklace, which you agreed to supply. And now, no necklace.”

  The angry tone of the general’s voice worried Richards even more. “Come on, General, I did supply the necklace. Pierre Fontaine arrived on time, ready to make the transaction. How was I to know there was going to be a heist that night? I told you all this before.”

  The general fingered the holster of his pistol. “Do you know what annoys me, Mister Richards? I am the commander of all military police. My officers know every mafia boss, every pimp, every fence, every money-cleaner, every ... shall we say, ‘private investor’ in Recife. And the word is out. Anyone who buys that necklace is a dead man. Anyone who touches it. Those little bastard street kids will not make one penny from their crime. But despite this, I cannot find it. Children steal from me and I cannot find what they have taken. If the mafia had the necklace, a little pressure on the right people and it would be returned to me. But these street bastards are like cockroaches. They are hidden in every sewer, every crack in the wall, and you cannot flush them all out. This annoys me very much.”