Conversation in the Cathedral

by Mario Vargas Llosa

  “If he has an attack of lunacy and goes into revolt, he can hold out for several days,” General Llerena said dully. “I’ve got him surrounded by troops, but I don’t have much faith in the air force. When the question of bombing his headquarters came up, the Minister said that a lot of pilots wouldn’t like the idea.”

  “None of that will be necessary, the plot has died without pain or glory,” he said. “All told, a couple of sleepless nights, General. I’m going to Chaclacayo now to sew up the last stitch. Then I’ll go to the Palace. If anything new comes up, I’ll be at home.”

  “There’s a call from the Palace for Mr. Bermúdez, General,” a lieutenant said without coming in. “The white phone, General.”

  “Major Tijero speaking, Don Cayo.” In the frame of the window a blue iridescence was breaking out in back of the mournful mass: the fur wrap slid down to her feet, which were pink. “A message has just arrived from Tumbes. It’s in code, it’s being deciphered. But we’ve already got the gist of it. Not bad, right, Don Cayo?”

  “I’m very glad to hear that, Tijero,” he said without any show of joy, and he caught a glimpse of Paredes’ and Llerena’s stupefied faces. “He didn’t take a half hour to think it over. That’s what you call a man of action. Good-bye, Tijero, I’ll be over there inside of a couple of hours.”

  “We’d better get to the Palace right away, General,” Major Paredes said. “This is the final stage.”

  “I’m sorry, Don Cayo,” Ludovico said. “We weren’t expecting you. Wake up, Hipólito.”

  “What’s the matter, God damn it, what are you shoving me for?” Hipólito stammered. “Oh, I’m sorry, Don Cayo, I fell asleep.”

  “Chaclacayo,” he said. “I want to get there in twenty minutes.”

  “The living room lights are on, you’ve got a visitor, Don Cayo,” Ludovico said. “Look who’s there in the car, Hipólito. It’s Ambrosio.”

  “I’m sorry to have kept you waiting, Don Fermín,” he said, smiling, watching the purple face, the eyes devastated by defeat and the long vigil, putting out his hand. “I’ll have some coffee brought, I hope Anatolia’s awake.”

  “Dark, strong and no sugar,” Don Fermín said. “Thank you, Don Cayo.”

  “Two black coffees, Anatolia,” he said. “Bring them to us in the living room and you can go back to bed.”

  “I tried to see the President and I couldn’t, that’s why I came here,” Don Fermín said mechanically. “Something serious, Don Cayo. Yes, a plot.”

  “Another one?” He pushed the ashtray over to Don Fermín, sat down beside him on the sofa. “It’s gotten so a week doesn’t go by without something being uncovered.”

  “Military men at the center of it, several garrisons involved,” Don Fermín recited with displeasure. “And people you’d least expect at the head of it.”

  “Have you got a match?” He leaned toward Don Fermín’s lighter, took a long drag, blew out a cloud of smoke and coughed. “Well, here comes the coffee. Leave it here, Anatolia. Yes, please close the door.”

  “Uplander Espina.” Don Fermín took a sip with a look of annoyance, stirred the coffee slowly. “He’s got the support of Arequipa, Cajamarca, Iquitos and Tumbes. Espina is leaving for Arequipa this morning. The coup might come tonight. They wanted my support and it seemed prudent not to disappoint them, to give evasive answers, attend a few meetings. Because of my friendship with Espina most of all.”

  “I know what good friends you are,” he said, tasting the coffee. “It was thanks to the Uplander that we first met, remember?”

  “It seemed mad at first,” Don Fermín said, staring at his cup of coffee. “Then not so mad. A lot of people in the government, a lot of politicians. The American Embassy knew about it. They suggested that elections be held six months after the new regime took office.”

  “A disloyal fellow, the Uplander,” he said, nodding. “It pains me because we’re old friends too. I owe my job to him, as you know.”

  “He thought he was Odría’s right-hand man and just like that they took the Ministry away from him,” Don Fermín said with a tired gesture. “He never got over it.”

  “He had things mixed up, he began working toward it in the Ministry, naming his people to prefectures, demanding that his friends get the key positions in the army,” he said. “Too many political ambitions, Don Fermín.”

  “My news hasn’t surprised you in the least, naturally,” Don Fermín said with sudden boredom, and he thought he knows how to behave, he has class, he has experience.

  “The officers owe a lot to the President and, naturally, they’ve kept us informed,” he said. “Even about the conversations between you, Espina and Senator Landa.”

  “Espina wanted to use my name in order to convince some people who were hanging back,” Don Fermín said with an apathetic and fleeting little smile. “But only the military men knew the plans in detail. They kept Landa and me in the dark. I only got adequate information yesterday.”

  “Everything will be all cleared up, then,” he said. “Half of the plotters were friends of the government, all of the garrisons involved have given their support to the President. Espina is under arrest. All that remains is to clarify the position of a few civilians. Yours is beginning to be clear, Don Fermín.”

  “Did you also know that I’d be waiting for you here?” Don Fermín asked without sarcasm, a glow of sweat appearing on his brow.

  “It’s my job, I get paid to know whatever is of interest to the government,” he admitted. “It’s not easy, actually, it’s getting harder and harder. Plots by university students are child’s play. When generals start plotting, then it’s more serious. And all the more so if they’re plotting with members of the Club Nacional.”

  “Well, the cards are on the table,” Don Fermín said. He paused briefly and looked at him. “I’d prefer to know right out what I can expect, Don Cayo.”

  “I’ll speak to you in all frankness,” he said, nodding. “We don’t want any uproar. It would be bad for the government, it’s not good for people to know that there are splits. We’re prepared not to take any reprisals. Provided that the other side observes the same discretion.”

  “Espina is proud and won’t make any act of contrition,” Don Fermín stated thoughtfully. “I can imagine how he feels after he found out that his comrades deceived him.”

  “He won’t make any act of contrition, but instead of playing the martyr he’ll prefer going abroad with a nice salary paid in dollars,” he said, shrugging his shoulders. “He’ll keep on plotting there to keep up his morale and get the bad taste out of his mouth. But he knows he hasn’t got a ghost of a chance anymore.”

  “Everything is set for the military men, then,” Don Fermín said. “What about the civilians?”

  “It all depends on which civilians,” he said. “It would be better for us to forget about little Dr. Ferro and the rest of the social climbers. They don’t exist.”

  “And yet they do exist,” Don Fermín sighed. “What’s going to happen to them?”

  “A short time in the shadows and they’ll be sent abroad little by little,” he said. “It’s a waste of time thinking about them. The only civilians who matter are you and Landa, for obvious reasons.”

  “For obvious reasons,” Don Fermín repeated slowly. “You mean?”

  “You’ve both served the government from the very first and you’ve got connections and influence in sectors that we have to treat with kid gloves,” he said. “I hope the President shows the same consideration to you that he has to Espina. That’s my personal opinion. But the final word is up to the President, Don Fermín.”

  “Are you going to propose a trip abroad for me too?” Don Fermín asked.

  “Since things have been settled so fast and, we might say, so well, I’m going to advise the President to leave you people alone,” he said. “Outside of asking you to abandon all political activity, of course.”

  “I’m not the brains behind this plot, you know tha
t,” Don Fermín said. “I had my doubts from the beginning. They presented it to me all set up, they didn’t consult me.”

  “Espina claims that you and Landa put up a lot of money for the coup,” he said.

  “I don’t invest money in businesses that are shaky and you know that too,” Don Fermín said. “I gave money and I was the first one to move heaven and earth to convince people to support Odría in 1948, because I had faith in him. I don’t imagine the President has forgotten that.”

  “The President is an uplander,” he said. “Mountain people have very good memories.”

  “If I’d really started plotting, things wouldn’t have gone so badly for Espina, if Landa and I had been the authors of all this, there wouldn’t have been four garrisons involved, there would have been ten.” Don Fermín spoke without arrogance, without haste, with a tranquil security, and he thought as if everything he’s saying is unnecessary, as if it was my obligation to have known that from the start. “With ten million soles behind it, no coup d’état in Peru can possibly fail, Don Cayo.”

  “I’m going to the Palace now to talk to the President,” he said. “I’ll do everything possible to make him understand and to have this settled in the best way, in your case at least. That’s all I can offer you for now, Don Fermín.”

  “Will I be arrested?” Don Fermín asked.

  “Of course not. The worst thing is that you might be asked to leave the country for a while,” he said. “But I don’t think that will be necessary.”

  “Will they take any reprisals against me?” Don Fermín asked. “Economic, I mean. You know that a large part of my business depends on the state.”

  “I’ll do what I can to avoid it,” he said. “The President doesn’t hold grudges, and I hope that after a while he’ll accept a reconciliation with you. That’s all I can tell you, Don Fermín.”

  “I suppose that the things we had pending, you and I, will have to be forgotten,” Don Fermín said.

  “Buried, absolutely,” he stated. “You can see I’m being sincere with you. First of all, I’m part of the government, Don Fermín.” He paused, lowered his voice a little, and used a less impersonal, more intimate tone. “I know that you’ve been going through a bad time. No, I’m not talking about this business. About your son, the one who left home.”

  “What’s happened to Santiago?” Don Fermín’s face turned toward him quickly. “Are you still persecuting the boy?”

  “We had him watched for a few days, but that’s all over,” he reassured him. “It seems that bad experience has disillusioned him about politics. He hasn’t gone back to his old friends and I understand he leads a very proper life.”

  “You know more about Santiago than I do, I haven’t seen him for months,” Don Fermín murmured, standing up. “Well, I’m very tired and I’ll leave you now. Good-bye, Don Cayo.”

  “To the Palace, Ludovico,” he said. “That lazy lout Hipólito has fallen asleep again. Leave him alone, don’t wake him up.”

  “Here we are,” Ludovico said, laughing. “You’re the one who fell asleep this time. You were snoring all the way over, Don Cayo,”

  “Good morning, you finally got here,” Major Tijero said. “The President has retired to get some rest. But Major Paredes and Dr. Arbeláez are waiting for you inside, Don Cayo.”

  “He asked not to be awakened unless it’s something very urgent,” Major Paredes said.

  “There’s nothing urgent, I’ll come back to see him later,” he said. “Yes, I’ll leave with you people. Good morning, doctor.”

  “I have to congratulate you, Don Cayo,” Dr. Arbeláez said sarcastically. “No noise, not a drop of blood spilled, and no one to help or advise you. A complete success, Don Cayo.”

  “I was going to suggest we have lunch together so I can fill you in on all the details,” he said. “Right up until the last minute we didn’t know how it would go. Things came to a head last night and I didn’t have time to bring you up to date.”

  “I’m not free at noontime, but thanks anyway,” Dr. Arbeláez said. “I don’t need to be brought up to date. The President filled me in about everything, Don Cayo.”

  “Under certain circumstances there’s no other way except to go outside of channels, doctor,” he murmured. “Last night it was more important to act than to get in touch with you.”

  “Of course,” Dr. Arbeláez said. “This time the President has accepted my resignation and, believe me, I’m quite happy. We won’t have any more arguments. The President’s going to reshuffle the cabinet; not now, on the National Holiday. But in any case, he has his mind made up.”

  “I’ll ask the President to reconsider his decision and not let you leave,” he said. “Even though you may not think so, I like working under you, doctor.”

  “Under me?” Dr. Arbeláez let out a loud laugh. “Well. See you later, Don Cayo. Good-bye, Major.”

  “Let’s go get something to eat, Cayo,” Major Paredes said. “Yes, come in my car. Tell your chauffeur to follow us to the Military Club. Camino called to say that the Faucett flight will arrive here at eleven-thirty. Are you going to meet Landa?”

  “I have to,” he said. “If I don’t die first from lack of sleep. That’s three hours from now, right?”

  “How did your chat with the big fish go?” Major Paredes asked.

  “Zavala’s a good gambler, he knows how to lose,” he said. “Landa worries me more. He’s richer and therefore he’s prouder. We’ll see.”

  “The fact is the whole thing was quite serious.” Paredes yawned. “If it hadn’t been for Colonel Quijano we would have had a good scare.”

  “The government owes its life to him, or almost,” he nodded. “We have to get congress to promote him as soon as possible.”

  “Two orange juices and two strong coffees,” Major Paredes said. “And quick, because we’re falling asleep.”

  “What’s worrying you?” he asked. “Let’s have it.”

  “Zavala,” Major Paredes said. “Your deals with him. He must have you by these things here, I imagine.”

  “Nobody’s got me by anything yet,” he said, stretching. “He’s tried a thousand times, of course. He wanted to make me his partner, scrounge some shares of stock for me, a million different things. But it didn’t work.”

  “That’s not what I mean,” Major Paredes said. “The President …”

  “He knows everything, with all the warts and hairs,” he said. “There’s this here and that there, but no one can prove that those contracts were awarded because of me. My commissions were so much, always in cash. I’ve got my account overseas and it’s so much. Should I resign, leave the country? No. What shall I do, then? Screw Zavala. Fine, I obey your orders.”

  “Screwing him ought to be the easiest thing in the world.” Paredes smiled. “You can get him through his vice.”

  “Not that way,” he said, and smiled at Paredes, yawning again. “That’s the only way I won’t.”

  “I know, you’ve told me before.” Paredes smiled. “Vices are the only things you respect in people.”

  “His fortune is a sand castle,” he said. “His lab gets by by supplying the armed forces. The orders are stopped. His construction company depends on highways and school buildings. All finished, he won’t get another delivery. The Treasury Ministry will go over his books and he’ll have to pay the taxes he dodged and the penalties. We won’t be able to sink him completely, but we can hurt him some.”

  “I don’t think so, those shitheads always find some way of coming out ahead,” Paredes said.

  “Are the cabinet shifts for certain?” he asked. “Arbeláez has to be kept on at the Ministry. He’s a grouch, but a person can work with him.”

  “A change of ministers on the National Holiday is normal, it won’t attract any attention,” Paredes said. “Besides, poor Arbeláez is right. The problem would be the same with anyone else. Nobody will accept being a figurehead.”

  “I couldn’t risk his knowing about this
, with all his business connections with Landa,” he said.

  “I know, I’m not criticizing you,” Paredes said. “That’s precisely why, in order to avoid things like that, you’ve got to accept the Ministry. You can’t turn it down now. Llerena has insisted on your replacing Arbeláez. It’s been uncomfortable for the other ministers too, having one fake Minister of Public Order and one real one.”

  “I’m invisible as it is now and no one can scuttle my work,” he said. “The Minister is exposed and vulnerable. The enemies of the government would rub their hands if they saw me minister.”

  “Those enemies don’t count for much anymore, not after this failure,” Paredes said. “They won’t be lifting up their heads for a long time to come.”

  “When we’re alone, we should be more frank,” he said, laughing. “The strength of the government was based on the support of the groups that count. And that’s all changed. None of them, the Club Nacional, the army, or the gringos, like us anymore. They’re divided among themselves, but if they were to unite against us, we’d have to start packing our bags. If your uncle doesn’t act fast, things are going to go from bad to worse.”

  “What more do they want him to do?” Paredes asked. “Hasn’t he cleaned up the Apristas and the Communists? Hasn’t he given the army things it never had before? Hasn’t he put the big shots from the Club Nacional in ministries and embassies, hasn’t he let them make all the decisions at the Treasury? Hasn’t he let the gringos have their way in everything? What more do those bastards want?”

  “They don’t want him to change his policies, they’ll do the same thing when they take power,” he said. “They want him out. They called him in to exterminate the cockroaches in the house. Now that he’s done that, they want him to give them back their house, which, after all, does belong to them, doesn’t it?”

  “No,” Paredes said. “The President has won the people over. He’s built them hospitals, schools, he gave them the Workers’ Security Law. If he amends the constitution and runs for reelection, he’ll win cleanly. All you have to do is look at the demonstrations of support every time he takes a trip.”