Angels - the Judith's secret

by Wudson Silva

  It is sad to get to work and be obliged to say good morning to the honorable work colleague from a big city that, again, was crouched observing butterflies in the poor improvised yard in front of the police station. This goes without mentioning the dammed district attorney, who freed someone such as the sorcerer. Certainly this will be a stain in his professional records.

  — Being grumpy doesn't take you anywhere, Isaias.

  — It is just a headache, Clóvis. Are we going to free the sorcerer, now?

  — He is already free. David opened the cell and he went straight to see his daughter.

  — Nothing new there, this girl is the only family he has.

  — Do you know why the wife ran away from her own home?

  — Because she was shocked when she learned her man was no longer a sorcerer and started to visit a church for evangelicals. She did not take the girl because she could not take care of her alone.

  Clóvis rose from the garden with sadness in his face and looked to the mountains still with some mist around it. Sighted deeply and kept thinking about how he would manage another day of investigation.

  — The place where Judith’s body was at…

  — There is nothing there — I interrupted, knowing already what he was going to ask — The rain erased all marks, the candles were removed, and the priest already restored the gate.

  — Even so, I need to see the crime scene.

 

  We passed through the asylum and I saw my father at a garden separated from the street only by a barbed wire fence. He was watering it, peaceful, a small tomato plantation. A hummingbird flew next to the water stream to take its morning bath. The old man just watched the little bird enjoying its bath; however, when he saw me driving by, his face changed completely. I am not afraid of an angry face.

  The parish house is in front of the church square and, on the other side, we could see the alley of Judith's house. The door was closed, but an elderly catechist that was nearby realized our intention and came to us.

  — Are you the detective?

  — My name is Clóvis, nice to meet you. I need to take a look at the yard. Is the priest in?

  — No. He has been very busy in the last weeks and must have gone to some school in our rural area; I do not know when he comes back, but I have the keys for the door.

  The catechist put her hands into the pocket of her flowered dress and got a huge key, similar to that Judith kept in her little chest, and opened the door as if she was making a great contribution to the human kind. We entered.

  Immediately, we could see the stairs that take to the top floor and the wooden handrails, well preserved and engraved in a simple manner. The floor in wooden boards; upstairs there was the living room, private library and the priest's bedroom.

  Clóvis observed in detail every corner of the room. But the catechist couldn't keep quiet.

  — Priest Lázaro was very pleased to hear about the new investigation about the murder. He knows a lot about these matters. He believes in the possibility of other people helping to arrange that scenery with the intention of blaming the poor Josias.

  — I also think this way — revealed the detective — May we go to the yard?

  The catechist smiled, accompanied us to the back door.

  At the yard there were some orange, guava and acerola trees. It was an ordinary yard, in a size as of any other house. The only difference is that it has a good maintenance, because there is always someone willing to hoe, prune and clean. A thick cement stairway with long steps lead up to the middle of the yard. The body was between the gate with access to the street below and the last step; a little bit more to the right, as if the body, the gate and the last step of the stair formed a triangle. The walls were high, but you still could see part of Elias' butcher house, right in front of the wooden gate, with the intention of facilitating the access for cleaning.

  There wasn't any other marks of the satanic tragedy. Only a muddy land, filled with footprints from cops and curious people.

  We went up to the last step, and Clóvis kept on contemplating the mud.

  — Judith's body was laying here — I pointed out.

  — Did you notice the size of the footprints?

  — No. One of them stepped exactly where you are now and left here a mud footprint that spread with the rain drops. This is as far as he went. There were no traces outside the stairway, no one got close to the house; they only left the body in the middle of a ritual and left.

  — Why would one of the murderers step here?

  — Certainly to perform the evil ritual that took poor Judith to meet her maker, for better, or worse... I don’t know.

  Clóvis laughed and went down the yard, stepping in the mud as if that didn’t disturb him. Observed the floor, the walls, the sky, the new gate, walked around in circles, and nothing.

  — Who reformed the gate?

  — Moisés, the only carpenter in town.

  — Who took the pictures of the crime scene?

  — I did. Why?

  — They were poorly taken.

  — I was trembling a little bit. Murders like this one are not part of my daily work, in particular when it involves voodoo.

  — It makes sense — he whispered laughing — Where is the old gate?

  — I don’t know. Besides, it was just a forced gate. What difference does this make?

  — Details are important.

  I even pulled a face. Honestly, I cannot believe this man is a professional in investigations.

  — What about the letters in Judith’s little chest — I questioned — Did you find anything?

  — Yes, and it is very interesting.

  He fished in his pocket a piece of paper and handed it out to me. He said that it was interesting, but, in my opinion, it was ridiculous: “Today?”. This was the only message written in that dirty little piece of paper.

  He takes back to the hotel a bunch of letters and comes back with a dirty piece of paper with an absurd sentence!

  — What does this has to do with anything? — I questioned.

  — Did you notice the condition of this paper?

  — Yes, it is dirty.

  — It is not any dirt. These are blood stains.

  I paid attention now: he was right. It is some heavy voodoo and we cannot touch these things. I returned it to him immediately.

  — Don’t worry, Isaías, it is only a piece of paper, nothing more.

  — It is a spell! And you walk around with it in your pocket.

  He laughed showing all of his teeth. I hate people mocking me.

  — Let’s go — he said.

  Then, the detective crossed the yard, put his foot on the first step of the thick cement stairway and felt his shoes filled with mud. Stopped and kept thinking for a minute. He even twisted his mouth to exaggerate his thoughts. It wouldn’t be something he would do, to continue going up the stairs with the shoes dirty. It wasn’t his style.

  To me it was stupid when he took off his shoes and went up the stairs wearing only his socks, so that the priest’s house would not get dirty. I felt life laughing, but didn’t.

  The catechist was waiting for us at the door that takes us to the yard. She was biting her nails and obviously anxious to see if we had found out anything. Obviously she wanted something to tell her friends. The virus so called “gossip” ran through her veins. The biggest evidence of her addition is that she didn’t even realized that the detective had his shoes in hands.

  — So? — she questioned us, with her eyes open wide.

  — There are no traces at all.

  There were no clues in the crime scene, of course. No wonder. He got here two weeks after the murder! What did he expect?

  We left the house and stopped in the sidewalk, with our backs turned to the parish house and facing the church square. Clóvis sat down, cleaned a little bit his socks and put his shoes back on. He demonstrated no embarrassment.

  In the sky, there were some cl
ear but huge clouds; the morning sun was getting stronger, indicating it was going to be a hot afternoon. The white pigeon flew over the square from one side to the other, and after another boring flight, went back to the nest, in a hole in one of the palm trees.

  Clóvis smiled and whispered; his perfect teeth looked like keys on a piano, so white they were. I couldn’t see the fun he saw in this!

  — Do you want to see the street on the back? — I questioned.

  — No. Elias already showed me on Monday night, do you remember?

  — Did he told you that the traces ended up close to the curb?

  — Yes, he did. Probably, the murderers used a car and parked it in front of the gate, facilitating the transport of the body and making easy to escape quickly. What about we visit your mother?

  — She is also a suspect?!

  — No! — the piano mouth laughed — She is hospitalized and you owe her a visit, right?

  — Yes.

  — So…

  The hospital was just around the corner, but I took the car anyway.

  Miss Marta, my mother, was in a deep sleep, more dead than alive. It is sad to think how hard she worked and never got anything.

  She was a woman like any other. She never missed a cooking show, always asking who was dating who, who was pregnant, who had a fight with whom, who was feeling ill, who was right, who was wrong, who died, what will happen in the soup opera the next day, well, she was interested in the life of everyone, but her own. She loved walking around with her nose up just because her house was in the main street where the best store in the city was, which owner was her husband. For years, my dad’s store had been the most important in the region.

  But time went by, competition increased and his kingdom ended; this is normal to those not interested in innovating.

  And, one of the biggest problems my mother had was that she smoked too much.

  One time, when I was a teenager, I asked her to quit smoking, and she replied: “Go to hell!”. She would had hit me, but I ran out of the house. I hate cigarettes and, also, smokers.

  Those that sow the wind, shall reap the whirlwind. The wind being the cigarette that pleased so much, as an accessory to show who is classy; the whirlwind being the cancer, that from a wind turned into a whirlwind; that from a baby turned into a dragon; and that from erosion turned into a crater. Result of the little pleasures that she had had throughout her life. What else do I have to do here? Ok she is my mother, but she is going away. Life goes on and she already ran her course.

  — Miss Marta made a miracle — the piano mouth interrupted me, at the door without me seeing him. — A miracle of God. To this miracle she gave her soul. This soul was granted two pathways. This miracle is you. This soul is your own conscience, and now you just need to know which path did you choose.

  — It is not my path that is in discussion, but her path.

  — I agree. However, it is advisable to look into the mirror before coming with this “Those that sow the wind, shall reap the whirlwind” than doing it for the life of others, because we are not in anyone else’s shoes to understand how they feel or think.

  Suddenly I felt the butterflies in my stomach. How did he know I was thinking that?

  — If you are so smart, do you happen to know whether she is going to hell or heaven?

  — I cannot judge — he replied in a stroke.

  I disdained and shook my head negatively. It was the most ridiculous thing I ever heard; but one word kept going through my mind as if it were the true answer, and he wasn’t talking about my mother. Obviously the path chosen by her was the path of the ill-fated.

  — Do not think this way, Isaías, this will be bad to you, only.

  — Which… which… which is the next step in our investigation!? — I questioned, trying to change the subject.

  — I have to think. Things are much more confused than I expected.

  He sat on a chair a little far away and got the piece of paper stained with blood.

  “Today?”.

  Would it be possible, then, that she was aware that her life was coming to an end and that she would be given to the devil right on the parish house yard? Well, if this paper was in the chest of old letters, it is because she read it and put it away. She was aware of the day in which the horrifying rite would take place and agreed to walk up to the parish house yard. They had no trouble in carrying her, because she went free and willing! It would be impossible to find traces of blood through the streets or sidewalks, once the deadly stroke was given inside that yard, and the body stayed there.

  — Let’s lunch, — he said, contemplative — and then we will go to the shepherd’s house.

  — An unexpected visit may surprise him a lot, right? And if he pulls a face like Moisés did…

  — I do not want to see you arresting anyone without concrete evidences, do you understand?

  — Ok! But what about the paper stained in blood, are you going to show it to him?

  — Yes.

  Great! Now fire will burn!

  I will have a quick lunch, will clean my revolver and bring more ammo. Today we will find the true identity of the murderer and lock away again the sorcerer, his accomplice.

  I forced myself to eat.

  I was so anxious that I just couldn’t keep quiet. I was clapping my hands, rubbing it and punching the wall. I forgot to inspect the revolver — I was too much in a hurry. Clóvis also had finished his lunch. However, he preferred to wait a little longer at the police station; he did not wanted to catch anyone during the meal which, for him, was a sacred moment. I started biting my nails. We left at 01:00 p.m. directly to Rafael shepherd’s house.

  Miss Ruth, Judith’s sister, was right. This shepherd and Josias are together in this. When Josias was arrested, Rafael turned his back on him so that no suspicion is raised. Why, then, he never went to visit the sorcerer in jail?

  I couldn’t wait to see the look on that mater of puppets’ face with our unexpected visit.

  I pushed the doorbell of the modest house which had a much better garden than the police station in front. The shepherd came out with an antipathetic smile on his face that reminded me the smile of the “piano mouth” right to my side, calm as a millpond.

  — Good afternoon, Friends! — greeted the shepherd Rafael. — It is like I knew you were coming. Why did you take so long?

  Rafael is a cynic and was already ready for the worst. He knew we would come, sooner or later, that is why he was prepared.

  — Clóvis, show him the piece of paper! — I ordered, and both stared at me. The detective had a look of disapproval in his face and the shepherd was surprised.

  Clóvis took out of his pocket and showed him the piece of paper stained with blood while he introduced himself. The shepherd read and observed the back without anything written, however, he got more interested in knowing who was the detective and his functions. Nothing happened and I was isolated from the conversation.

  — Were you transferred here or is this temporary?

  — My mission is a little more complex of what one can imagine, but for now, it is resumed in finding out who are the murderers. As soon as the case is solved, I will travel somewhere else.

  — Without destination? — questioned the shepherd.

  — Maybe.

  Rafael invited us in.

  Both sat down as a couple of ladies would do, sitting up straight. I like to feel comfortable. Literally, I threw myself in the impeccable sofa in the living room that looked like a piece of furniture taken from a soup opera, so fancy it was.

  A girl of approximately seven years old, with a light brown skin and brown hair, showed up running from a hallway that probably takes to the bedrooms. The shepherd asked her to go to the kitchen and bring us something to drink. She agreed with a smile, said hello to me and Clóvis and went away. I recognized the girl: she was the sorcerer’s daughter.

  — This paper — mentioned the shepherd — what does it mean?
/>   — Do you recognize the handwriting?

  — Are you suspecting that Josias planned that crime and that, in advance, informed his victim?

  — Do you recognize the handwriting? — insisted the detective.

  — The message is so short that anyone could easily modify the handwriting and be free from any suspicion.

  Clóvis accepted the shepherd’s hypothesis and explained from where he had taken that piece of paper stained with blood.

  — I am more than sure of the innocence of brother Josias. That incident with Judith made him angry, but I talked a lot to him; I told him that God only walks side by side with the righteous. Even the way a person walks requires a due composure. One that closes the eyes or walks backwards is being careless, giving chances to unforeseen risks. Things could be worse and he knows well about it. I asked him to never again raise his finger to do his prophecies; this only brings him problems. I talked about the word of God and he is much better now.

  — Josias has a lot of friends? — asked the detective.

  — We are all brothers.

  — Even in the darkest times?

  Clóvis stared at the shepherd, who realized immediately the implication behind the question. He had not visited the sorcerer.

  — I haven’t had the time.

  — Does he still do sorcery? — I stared at him.

  — What do you know about this? — he said laughing.

  — Let’s assume it is an ambush. — interrupted Clóvis — Who would be capable of harming Josias in such a brutal way?

  — There is another investigation about Josias ex-wife. They found out that she was associated to someone with a police record.

  — Did you know about this investigation, Isaías? — asked Clóvis.

  I shook my head negatively.

  — We will go to the forum. I want to know everything that is going on.

  — It is a waste of time. — said the shepherd — The district attorney traveled this morning and doesn't have a date scheduled for his return.

  Clóvis felt really uncomfortable with the facility in which the shepherd developed his report, as if he were always one step ahead of him.

  — Shepherd Rafael, thank you for your cooperation and sorry for the disturbance.

  — No problem! You are welcome anytime.

  — Ok! — concluded Clóvis.

  The shepherd is a good speaker. However, it is evident that this shepherd and his scum are preparing another scam: lock away people that has nothing to do with the case so that they get away with it, acquitting the sorcerer.

  Clóvis was upset, no wonder: no one informed him about this other investigation in which the suspect was the new lover of t he sorcerer’s ex-wife. Once he was a respected investigator, and his services have been required and all, he should, then, have been informed of everything going on and not going through the humiliation of being informed by the interested party. Rafael knew more than he did and, to tell the truth, found it a little amusing.

  We got into my Variant.

  — Where to, now, detective?

  — To the forum.

  The forum was open and the employees in their daily routines. The notary stopped us at the hall and examined the detective from head to toe.

  — May I help you?

  — I need to talk to the district attorney.

  — The district attorney is out of town.

  Clóvis looked to the notary with disapproval.

  — I need to find a way to talk to the district attorney, do you understand?

  — Oh! You want a telephone number in which you may reach him.

  — Correct.

  — That is not possible.

  — Why?

  — Because he did not give us one.

  — How can I know about the whereabouts of Josias’ ex-wife?

  — With me! — meddled Baltazar, the attorney.

  A chubby guy, with his hair brushed to the side, with a round face, always in suit and tie. Baltazar is full of himself. His black suitcase follows him wherever he goes. I am sure that there is nothing interesting inside it, other than things for vain people that always talk gesticulating and that keeps a antipathetic smile, enhancing his huge cheeks. It is alright that he is a snob, but the worst thing is to know that he and the sorcerer belong to the same church.

  Of course the shepherd called him telling where we would be.

  — I am Baltazar, nice to meet you, and you must be the detective Clóvis. Your doings as investigator are amazing. Further, yesterday on the television it was exhibited the strategy you used to find and deactivate the explosive prepared by the so-called iconoclast. Is it true that you jumped out of an airplane with no parachutes?

  — Do not believe in everything they show on the television, Baltazar.

  Clóvis was serious, and the attorney understood that the presence of the detective was extremely professional.

  — Let’s go to my office? — he invited us.

  The attorney’s office was right outside the forum. The MDF desk customized to the fat attorney already had two chairs waiting for us.

  Clóvis went straight to the point.

  — Do you know the whereabouts of Josias’ ex-wife, Baltazar?

  — Yes, I do. She is living at Serro, a city not very far from here. As soon as we discovered the address, I and the shepherd Rafael went there. We asked a private detective to spy on her, on her lover, and what they were doing on the day of the murder.

  — What did you find out?

  — She was at home, but he wasn’t.

  — Why do you suspect of him?

  — Because he has no alibi. He pleads he went camping with his friends for the weekend.

  — He left his wife home to camp with a bunch o friends?

  — They are addicted, and this is not something she does. That is why she would have stayed home.

  — Does the Chief of Police or the district attorney know what you are doing?

  — Not yet. But we are going to tell them as soon as they arrive.

  — What else do you know about this suspect?

  — His name is Ezequiel. He has a long criminal record. He is an addicted since he was a teenager; he was put into a rehab clinic, but It showed no results. From a family with good background to a criminal. His friends are a bunch of hustlers and his former-lovers pleaded that he is a jealous and violent person. There is a rumor that he already had tried to kill a person just because he pulled a move over the women he was with. He couldn’t kill him, but beat him up until he was unconscious.

  — You are not insinuating that…

  — We found out, further, that Josias’ ex-wife was sorry to have chosen Ezequiel and intended to reconcile with Josias, but his current lover would never accept this loss. To him, a woman leaving him would add a stain to his reputation. In this world, pride always talks louder.

  — I agree — said the detective.

  — So, as soon as he heard about the incident with Josias, he probably planned the murder and came with his gang to exterminate poor Judith, leaving, as signature, the star marked and the candles around her body. It was clear that Josias would be incriminated. Consequently, the woman couldn’t return here.

  — Do you really believe in this hypothesis?

  — Well... it is a hypothesis.

  — The door at Judith’s house was not forced. Do you think she would welcome, late at night, a bunch of madmen and put on some perfume before being murdered? How do you explain this?

  — These are only assumptions.

  — Where were you on the night of the murder?

  — I was working.

  — Up to what time?

  — I had just arrived from a long trip and stopped a little bit at the office. I don’t mind working at night, I usually sleep little.

  — You didn’t see anything suspicious on the streets?

  — No. Actually my route is different, I usually do not go through the church square.

&nb
sp; — By any chance do you have a report of the investigation on Ezequiel?

  — No, but as soon as I get it I will gladly give it to you.

  We said goodbye and left the office in absolute silence. In particular Clóvis, who no longer showed his piano mouth and walked a little bit with his head down. Finally, the detective opted for visiting Josias, the sorcerer.