Chasing Dreams

by Susan Lewis

  ‘Come here, Luiz,’ Cláudio said.

  Michelle and Antônio turned in surprise as a tall, gangly figure emerged from the shadows of the adjoining room, where he must have been all the time, and limped awkwardly towards them. At first his injuries were difficult to see, as his T-shirt and jeans covered most, but as he drew closer and eased himself gingerly into the chair Cláudio had vacated, dark, livid weals and raw, ugly burns became visible on his face, neck and lower arms. His right eye was partially closed, an angry swelling around it, and his lips were badly cut and still bloody.

  Michelle looked at him, her green eyes imbued with horror and pity, and the resolve in her heart grew to make whoever had done this pay.

  ‘I am lucky,’ he told her, his voice rasping through the wounds on his lips. ‘They didn’t break my feet. Sometimes they break your feet.’

  Wincing at the mere thought of it, Michelle glanced up at Cláudio, then, reaching into her purse she said, ‘Do you mind if I record what you’re saying?’

  The boy’s haunted, bloodshot eyes looked at the recorder, then turning to Cláudio, he said something Michelle didn’t quite catch.

  ‘He needs to know where you will hide him once he has told you his story,’ Cláudio explained.

  ‘We will take him to Carlos Camillo, the prosecutor,’ she answered. Then, addressing Luiz she said, ‘Seu Carlos and Judge da Silva have already arranged several safe houses for witness protection in and around Rio. Antônio and I can’t tell you exactly where these houses are, because it isn’t safe for us to know either, but I give you my word that if it comes to it, I will personally fly you out of the country to get you away from Pedro Pastillano and his death squad.’

  Fear and uncertainty remained in Luiz’s eyes as he looked at the recorder again and began to clench and unclench his hands.

  ‘It’s OK,’ Michelle said gently, sliding the recorder back into her purse, ‘we can just talk. There’s no need to get anything on the record until you’re ready.’

  Luiz looked up at Cláudio’s wife, as she perched on the arm of his chair and put a comforting arm around his shoulders. ‘The senhora will keep you safe,’ she told him in a whisper. ‘You must trust her – and the man from the shelter. They will help you. They’ll help us all, but you have to tell them what you know.’

  ‘Why don’t you start,’ Michelle said, ‘by telling me where the Inferno is.’

  The boy’s round, bruised eyes came back to her and there was only a slight hesitation before he said, ‘I don’t know. No one knows. They take you there in a van with no windows. That’s if you’re conscious. Usually you’re not. Sometimes they just use blindfolds. And if you get out alive, you come out that way too. No one ever escapes.’

  Michelle nodded. Disappointing as the answer was, it was much what she’d expected. ‘Could you hear anything while you were there?’ she said. ‘You know, noises from outside, like the ocean, or traffic, or planes.’

  He thought for a moment, then said, ‘I heard water. Not the ocean. More like a stream, a waterfall I think.’

  Michelle smiled encouragement. ‘So it could be in the mountains?’ she said.

  He blinked, obviously not understanding why she thought that.

  Leaving it, she said, ‘Do you have any idea what kind of building the Inferno is? Did you see it at all from the outside?’

  He shook his head. ‘All I know is that the tank where we were most of the time is underground. There are no lights, no air, no toilets. Just one door that is kept locked all the time.’

  ‘Did they open the door to feed you?’ she asked.

  He shook his head. ‘We didn’t get food. Or maybe scraps and some water. They opened the door then – and to take us in and out. There were steps outside. You know, leading up to the open air, but the sunlight hurts your eyes so bad when you come out that you don’t see anything and then you’re back inside again, in a room where they …’ His eyes fell away and his hands began twitching again.

  ‘What kind of room was it?’ Michelle prompted gently.

  ‘Stone,’ he mumbled. ‘Everything was stone. The walls, the ceiling, the floor. No windows. There were lots of rooms. One after the other. Not big. Bigger than this house, but not big,’

  ‘Do you remember seeing anything in them?’ she asked.

  His chin was almost on his chest as he shook his head.

  ‘Tell her,’ Cláudio urged softly.

  Luiz still didn’t look up and reaching out for his hand Cláudio’s wife gave it a comforting squeeze.

  ‘The parrot’s perch,’ Luiz said so quietly Michelle didn’t catch it.

  She looked at Cláudio, but it was Antônio who spoke.

  ‘The parrot’s perch,’ he repeated. ‘It’s a kind of swing. They make a boy hang by his knees, then they tie his hands behind his back, attach them to his ankles and make him hang there while they beat him.’

  Michelle turned back to Luiz. ‘Did they do that to you?’ she asked, gently.

  Luiz nodded.

  ‘Why do they do it?’ she asked Cláudio. ‘Are they trying to get information?’

  ‘Sometimes,’ Cláudio answered. ‘They want names of rival drug gangs, or they want to let the drug dealers know what will happen to them if they try to cheat the police out of their cut of the money.’

  ‘Is that what you did?’ Michelle asked Luiz. ‘Try to cheat the police out of their cut?’

  ‘Not me, Márcio,’ Luiz answered. ‘It was why they killed him.’

  Michelle’s eyes dropped for a moment as she recalled the fear she had seen in Márcio the day he had come to the shelter.

  ‘Tell her what else happened while you were at the Inferno,’ Cláudio prompted. ‘Tell her about the …’

  Michelle didn’t understand the word he used, so looked at Antônio. Her eyes widened as she received the translation and turning back to Luiz she said, ‘They assaulted you sexually?’

  Still Luiz couldn’t meet her eyes.

  ‘It’s why it’s so hard for him to walk,’ Cláudio explained. ‘They used their truncheons, as well as with their …’ He gave a self-conscious gesture towards his genitals.

  ‘They pulled Magno’s teeth out and stuffed their pricks in his mouth,’ Luiz said in a sudden burst.

  Michelle’s insides shrank from the horror. ‘Magno?’ she said.

  ‘He’s dead,’ Luiz said flatly. ‘They shot him.’

  ‘Did you see them shoot him?’ she asked.

  He nodded. ‘It was César. He fired the gun.’

  ‘César?’ she said.

  Luiz nodded.

  Cláudio said. ‘Eduardo César. He was promoted from captain to major for bravery after he killed two men in a shoot out in the next favela.’

  ‘So he’s a policeman?’ Michelle said.

  Cláudio nodded.

  Michelle glanced at Antônio, then, turning back to Luiz she said, ‘While you were at the Inferno, did you see Pedro Pastillano?’

  He shook his head. ‘I don’t know what he looks like,’ he said. ‘I only know his name.’

  ‘Did you hear anyone using his name?’ she asked.

  ‘I think so. I don’t know. But the others, Chico, Magno, José, they all said they saw him.’

  ‘Chico and José,’ she said, ‘are they still in the tank, or did they get shot like Magno?’

  ‘No, they were released with me,’ Luiz answered. ‘But they don’t want to talk.’

  Michelle nodded her understanding, then turned abruptly as a figure appeared in the open doorway casting the room into virtual darkness. For one awful moment she thought it was the police, then realizing it must be Aldo who was keeping guard outside she was about to speak when the room suddenly began to fill with men.

  ‘What is it? What’s happening?’ she whispered to Antônio, as he pulled her to her feet and tried to shove her behind him.

  ‘Marcelo,’ Cláudio said, moving in front of Luiz as though to protect the boy from the menace that was boring out of t
he newcomer’s eyes.

  ‘I told you,’ the man Marcelo snarled, ‘the boy keeps his mouth shut. I warned you.’ The men closing in behind him were all armed with machine-guns and Michelle’s throat was turning dry with fear. She didn’t need to ask who they were, for their tattoos, as well as instinct, told her they were members of the Estrela street gang.

  Cláudio seemed unafraid as he began to shout in a dialect she couldn’t understand, and wave his arms in a manner that was alarmingly contemptuous and dismissive. Behind him Luiz cowered in the chair, his fragile, injured body quaking with terror as Cláudio tried to prevent the gang leader from getting any closer to him.

  Then, quite suddenly, Marcelo swung round and glaring at Michelle he hissed, ‘We don’t need your help. You just bring us more trouble. Now go! Leave the boy to us.’

  Despite the dread thumping in her heart Michelle stepped forward, but before she could speak a volley of bullets tore into the wall behind her. The shock sent her back into Antônio, then a sudden, blinding pain shot through her head.

  As she slumped to the floor she could hear men shouting, was aware of Cláudio trying to order the gang out, then suddenly she was jerked to her feet and Marcelo’s face was right on hers. ‘You brought the police,’ he spat. ‘They were here because of you.’ He pointed behind him to Luiz. ‘He’s already dead,’ he seethed. ‘He’s marked and now you’re marking us too. So get out of here and don’t come back.’

  His face was swimming in and out of focus as Michelle tried to stiffen her legs and free herself from his grip. ‘You’re a coward,’ she muttered, barely knowing what she was saying. ‘You’re trying to scare …’

  Grabbing her, Antônio rushed her to the door. ‘Don’t be a fool,’ he hissed as he pushed her outside. ‘They’ll kill you. Or they’ll kill the boy … Aldo! Why didn’t you warn us?’ he shouted at the guide. Then he saw the gun trained on Aldo’s neck. ‘We need him to get out,’ Antônio told the gang member, his voice coming in short, frightened bursts. ‘We don’t know the way without him.’

  ‘Let him go!’ Marcelo barked.

  Antônio spun round, then, grabbing Michelle again he dragged her across the yard after Aldo, down the treacherously uneven steps and got them as fast as he could out of the range of Marcelo’s guns.

  Two hours later Michelle was sitting with Antônio in the air-conditioned haven of Carlos Camillo’s Copacabana apartment. Her head was throbbing from where she had been struck by one of Marcelo’s men, while dust and grime from the favela clogged her pores and grazed her thorat. She was still shaken by what had happened, but had insisted on calling Camillo the minute they got to a payphone to tell him what they had heard. The prosecutor was now en route from his downtown office and Antônio was sitting across the study glaring at her in a way that was making her ashamed of the lie she had told him. He still wouldn’t know, were it not for the fact that he had wanted to call Tom Chambers the minute they’d hung up from Camillo and the only excuse she could give for not doing so was to confess that Chambers had no idea she had gone to the favela without him.

  ‘It’s me he’ll be furious with,’ Michelle said, in an attempt to make Antônio feel better. ‘Not you.’

  ‘And if something had happened to you?’ Antônio responded tightly. ‘Who would have been blamed then?’

  ‘But nothing did,’ she said. ‘OK, I got hit on the head. I’ve survived worse. What’s bothering me more is what’s going to happen to Luiz now.’

  ‘Tom would have made them bring him out of the favela to talk to us,’ Antônio stated. ‘That way he would have lessened the danger to a point where it hardly existed.’

  ‘You don’t know that for certain,’ she responded irritably. ‘Nor do you know if they’d have agreed. As it stands, we now know that …’

  ‘Carlos,’ Antônio said, getting up as the prosecutor walked into the room.

  He was a tall, heavy man with a long, handsome face and an overburdened demeanour. ‘Sorry to have kept you,’ he said, closing the door and tossing his crumpled jacket on a chair. ‘The traffic was appalling. Did someone get you a drink?’

  ‘Your wife,’ Michelle told him. Then, smiling, ‘When is the baby due?’

  His tight, austere features softened for a moment. ‘In two months,’ he answered, setting his briefcase on the table. ‘It’ll be our first.’

  ‘Congratulations,’ Michelle said.

  He nodded, then, waving for them to sit down again he took a pen and paper from his briefcase and asked Michelle to start from the beginning with what had happened at the favela. He sat silently throughout, occasionally jotting something down, but mostly his earnest face was turned in her direction, while his piercing brown eyes concentrated almost exclusively on the Persian rug at her feet.

  When at last she had finished he glanced at Antônio, then, looking straight at Michelle he said, ‘I understand why you did this, but lying to Antônio the way you did was a very foolish and dangerous thing to do. It was also very stupid of Antônio to believe you when he knows how greatly Tom fears for your safety – and let me tell you, the risk you ran this afternoon was so high that it is nothing short of a miracle to find you sitting where you are now.’ He raised a hand as she made to protest. ‘You know very well how rife kidnapping is here, so to have put yourself in such a position as you did today, with no one outside the favela knowing where you were or who you were going to see, was an act of such bewildering irresponsibility that I am questioning my previously high opinion of your good sense.’

  Though Michelle flushed with embarrassment, she was fighting back her annoyance that he should have focused on her lie when the issue at hand was so much more important. ‘OK, I deserve that,’ she said, keeping the edge from her voice, ‘and I’m sorry I behaved so recklessly, but I’m here, I’m safe and surely what matters now is getting Luiz to a safe house where we can work on his statement and …’

  ‘Michelle,’ he interrupted, a note of surprise in his voice, ‘I think you’re going to have to face the fact now that the next time you see that boy will be when he turns up at the morgue.’

  Michelle’s dusty face turned pale.

  ‘Marcelo Tinoco is one of the most notorious gang leaders in Rio,’ he explained. ‘He is a ruthless young man, a known drug dealer and a known killer. Yet still he walks the streets. So maybe you should ask yourself, where does he get his supply of drugs and how is he managing to avoid arrest?’

  Michelle looked at him, a dawning realization turning her blood cold.

  Camillo nodded. ‘Yes, I think you are understanding me,’ he said. ‘Marcelo Tinoco is very probably in Pedro Pastillano’s pay. Indeed, the fact that he happened to show up at the favela while you were there, collecting evidence from one of his “kites”, is virtual confirmation that he is. Which can only lead us to wonder how long it will be now before we hear of Luiz’s death.’

  Michelle’s eyes darted to Antônio as she struggled for a reason why Camillo might be wrong, but as desperately as she wanted to avoid it she could see only too clearly how inescapable his conclusion was. ‘Oh God,’ she groaned, covering her face with her hands. ‘How could I have been so stupid? Why didn’t I realize?’ Her head came up and she fixed her eyes imploringly on Camillo. ‘Is there nothing we can do?’ she said. ‘No way we can get the boy out?’

  His expression was implacable. ‘I’m afraid not,’ he replied.

  She looked around at the trailing plants and happy snaps of him and his wife, and knew that she had never felt so terrible.

  ‘What you did,’ Camillo said, his voice softening slightly, ‘was certainly well-intentioned and even honourable, but it was very unwise. I don’t know if it will help, but you aren’t the first to have made this kind of mistake, some have even lost their lives in the attempt, so I suppose we must be grateful you were spared. Of course, we don’t know how temporary that is, so for your own sake as well as those around you it would be best if you left Brazil right away.’

  Michelle�
��s eyes opened wide, as her heart gave a twist of dismay. ‘Leave?’ she said. ‘But why?’

  ‘Because you have put yourself in untenable danger just by letting it be known that you have spoken to the boy,’ he answered. ‘Were there any ambiguity in the matter, as there might have been if he’d been removed from the favela and installed in a safe house, the issue of your safety would be much the same as it has always been. In other words, no one would know for sure that we had the boy and the chances of them finding out for certain would be extremely slim. However, as it stands, Pastillano knows that you have obtained certain information and there is no knowing what he might do to try to ascertain exactly what that information is, or what you intend to do with it.’

  Michelle’s eyes went down as she realized the irrefutability of what he was saying. But no matter how ashamed and foolish she felt for trying to take matters into her own hands the way she had, it didn’t even come close to how terrible she felt about the price Luiz would pay for her mistake.

  ‘And I am sure,’ Camillo said, evidently not yet finished, ‘that you have no wish to put the rest of us in danger either, which is what you will do if you stay.’

  Michelle’s face was pinched with fatigue as his words drove mercilessly into her guilt and despair.

  Reaching out to cover her hands Antônio said, ‘Come on, I’ll take you home.’

  As Michelle followed him out to the lift she was still thinking about the danger she had left the boy in and how powerless she was to do anything about it. But there had to be something, some way of getting him out of the favela without endangering his life any further. She couldn’t just stand by and do nothing, fly out of here and abandon him to a fate she had inflicted on him. No answers were presenting themselves right now, but there had to be a way of saving him and she had no intention of leaving Rio until she did.

  Chapter 22

  ELLEN GLANCED UP briefly as the waiter delivered a Bloody Mary to her table, then, telling him she would wait to order she went back to the book synopsis she was reading. She had a meeting the next day with one of New York’s leading literary agents whose author had written this particular best-seller and she wanted to go in prepared. Elwin Little, one of her actors, was willing to pay a lot of money for an option on this book, but that was no reason for him to get stung – nor was there any particular reason for her to conduct the negotiations as this wasn’t really her territory, but since she was in New York she had agreed to do it.