The Body Snatcher (16 page)

Half an hour later, when I parked in front of the construction supply store, Sulamita handed me the list.

            
2 raincoats

            
2 pairs of gloves

            
2 goggles

            
2 masks

            
1 hoe

            
8 meters of thick black plastic

            
1 blowtorch

            
1 hammer

            
2 strong flashlights

            
8 hundred-liter garbage bags

            
5 meters of black canvas

            
Rope

Buy the first four items here and leave the rest for other stores, she said, handing me the money she had withdrawn from her savings the day before.

The fact that Sulamita was bankrolling the operation also bothered me.

We're going to recoup what we're spending, I said.

She kissed me.

I got out of the car, made the purchases, and we repeated the procedure in three more stores in the city in order to
avoid drawing attention to ourselves. When I returned to the car after buying the last of the materials, I found Sulamita on the sidewalk.

What is it? I asked.

I wanted to make sure we weren't being followed.

I looked around us, frightened.

It was just a check, she said. I thought I saw Joel. But it's clear.

We got in the car, me with my eye on the rearview mirror.

What now? I asked.

Now I want something to eat. I'm starving.

You know, my father-in-law said, that I'm going to pay you. He was speaking softly, afraid that Sulamita would hear us. We had just had lunch and were sitting in front of the TV, watching some idiotic film. I should have cut the conversation short, Talk to your daughter, I should have said, she's the one who can solve your problem. But I let the old man ramble on. The thing is, he said, that I lent money to a friend and I don't want to pressure my friend, you know? Money puts an end to friendships, he said. If I press him, I'll lose the friendship and a good friend is hard to find. It's different than owing somebody in your own family. Like us. I owe you, but I'm going to pay. And if someday you need it, I can give you a loan. In the future. And you'll pay me when you can. I'll never dun my own son-in-law. But I'm going to pay you. I need you to lend me another thousand. Twelve hundred, actually. My friend's going to pay me, and I'll use it to pay you. I'll pay the five plus the thousand you're going to lend me now.

I noticed that Regina was paying attention to her father and smiling at me. Then she looked at her father again and
gave an odd guffaw, like pebbles falling to the ground. The old man went on talking, and every time he repeated that he would pay me, Regina threw more pebbles on the ground. And looked at me. I found that funny and began to laugh too.

Stop that, Regina, said the old man. But then he realized what was happening and began laughing with us. A real pistol, that girl, he said. Nothing retarded about her. She's just a bit off. We laugh a lot. People think she's crafty, he said, choking on his own laughter, but she's keeping her eye on us.

And the three of us were laughing our heads off when Sulamita arrived and asked what was so funny.

That retard is very clever, said her father, still laughing.

Sulamita became furious when Regina was referred to that way. Don't talk like that, she said. Such ignorance, father. She's not retarded. And the quarrel began. The daughter yelled at the old man, who yelled at his daughter, who yelled at her mother and father, who yelled at each other, making Regina cry. I had witnessed the scene several times. Now do you understand why I can't leave home? she asked. They don't know how to take care of my sister.

Let's take Regina for some ice cream, Sulamita said. Help me get her into the car.

Late in the day, after leaving Regina with her parents, we went to my place and took a bath. Put on old clothes, said Sulamita, who had done the same minutes before at her house.

The sun had set less than half an hour earlier. We had time and decided to have a pizza at a place with outdoor tables where you could feel the breeze from the river.

The restaurant was packed with families and children, and I felt at ease, especially once the vodka began to take effect.

We ate and went on drinking, killing time.

Sulamita told me that when she was in college her anatomy professor recommended a story about murder and the sale of cadavers, based on events that occurred in London in the nineteenth century. A sordid story: amoral people who suffocated beggars and sold their bodies to the universities. But all that sordidness, she said, had a noble purpose, which was science and progress. The story, she continued, was by Robert Louis Stevenson and was called “The Body Snatcher.”

After saying this, she fell silent for several instants.

We don't even have a noble purpose, she said, with an expression of vulnerability.

We were like that now, with one or the other always thinking about giving up our gruesome plan. First me, then her. Afterward me again, and her once more. And then both of us together. Or just her. Just me. Day after day like that, an infernal seesaw.

I realized that Sulamita couldn't drink anymore. I took the glass from her hand, telling the waiter that I wanted to take the bottle of vodka with me.

But I'm the only one who's going to drink, advised Sulamita. You don't have the stomach for it.

At eleven that night we arrived at the cemetery. Gilmar was at the gate with a woman who I later learned was his wife. Lots of people make a living that way, Sulamita explained. They sell everything: objects, vases, and even the bronze plaques from the tombs.

As we followed the couple in the dark, the smell of rot entered through the car's window.

What if they talk?

There's no way to be involved in a plan like this without leaving skin on the barbed wire. We've got to take the chance, she said.

Do you trust him?

We're paying well. That's what I trust. Money.

When we arrived at the farthest confines of the cemetery, Gilmar motioned for us to stop.

When I got out of the car I saw a modest coffin sitting beside a simple grave.

How are we going to carry it? I asked.

Get the canvas out of the car, Sulamita replied.

I kept my back turned while the couple opened the coffin, only hearing Sulamita's instructions to wrap the corpse and put it in the bed of the van.

We had brought black plastic to seal off the body of the vehicle.

I got back into the car when everything was ready and waited for Sulamita to pay the couple.

It was twenty-past eleven when we left the cemetery.

29

We drove for over half an hour on the dirt road without meeting a soul. Sulamita knew the route well. At the next entrance, she said, park near the fence. It's an old abandoned farm. No one ever comes to these parts.

My head was spinning from the vodka.

We parked, and when I turned off the lights it was as if night had plummeted onto our heads. I couldn't even see my own hands.

I turned on the headlights, drank a bit more vodka, and we got out, taking with us the materials we had brought on the rear seat of the van.

Then I turned on the flashlights and Sulamita handed me the raincoat, the goggles, the boots, and gloves for me to get ready. While she was getting dressed, she told me of a disease caused by necrophagous worms that caused blindness. Careful, she said.

We removed the body from the van and placed it on the ground.

We had agreed that I would dig the grave while she prepared the cadaver. But because of the darkness she thought it better for us to do everything together. You have to bring the light close to him, she said.

Sulamita was on her knees in front of the car, taking advantage of the illumination from the headlights. I approached with the flashlights, and it was only then that I saw the body.
Nothing was recognizable; there was a kind of gelatinous mass, a slime covering the skeleton. Every hair on my body stood on end from fear.

Anxiously, I drank more vodka. Sulamita too.

Pieces of rotting clothing still clung to the body.

Using scissors, Sulamita cut away the remaining cloth and put it in a garbage bag. She performed a meticulous search to make sure there were no identifying objects.

Then I dug a deep hole and we carefully placed the body inside, removing the black canvas we had used to transport it.

Just when I thought the worst was past, Sulamita asked me to point the light into the grave. With the hammer she broke the teeth and legs of the deceased in several places. They won't be able to establish the identity from dental records. I've done autopsies on pilots who died in crashes, she said. They're all smashed up. She took the blowtorch and charred the skeleton's legs.

Then we closed the grave, gathered the canvas and the plastic bags, and lit a bonfire.

The goggles, hoe, and all the other objects were tossed in the river in a garbage bag weighted down with stones.

At three in the morning we arrived at my house.

We went directly into the bathroom, turned on the shower, and remained silent, embracing, feeling the water cascade over us.

On Sunday, when Sulamita arose, I had already put the clothes we had worn the night before into a garbage bag. We're going out, I said.

We had breakfast at the corner bakery and then left on the Old Highway. After leaving the city, we stopped at a dump and got rid of our clothes.

We spent the morning swimming in the same grotto that we always went to. We practically didn't speak.

Sulamita told me several times that she loved me.

We lay in the sun, drying our bodies. I was so tired that at times I closed my eyes and slept.

One of those times, I awoke with Sulamita looking at me.

She asked me if we would someday forget what we had done.

I sighed.

What I fear, she said, is that we'll carry that cadaver for the rest of our lives.

We'll have to carry something, I thought. But I didn't say anything. I closed my eyes and went on feeling the sun on my body.

30

When I arrived at work on Monday, Dalva already knew everything. She confessed without embarrassment that she had eavesdropped on her employers' conversation through the door. You know, she said while she served me fresh coffee, I've been in this house for over twenty years. I raised that boy. I have the right to know what's going on.

Breathing heavily, she pulled up a stool and sat in front of me.

Remember that crazy guy who called here saying that Junior was dead? He's still calling, she said.

I felt my heart race. Stay calm, over. They don't know anything, over. I remembered what Sulamita had said about her profession, after we buried the body. Maybe now you understand, she said, the shame I feel at working in the morgue. People are disgusted by me. They avoid speaking to me, as if I could contaminate them. And the worst part is that I do feel contaminated.

While Dalva told me about the mysterious calls the Berabas had been receiving for several days, I also felt infected.

Do you think it's possible to kidnap a corpse? asked Dalva. From what I understood, they kidnapped Junior's body. I didn't know that now they kidnap cadavers. That's new to me. How can they kidnap a cadaver?

Dalva was confused: it was as if she were telling me, Okay, I understand criminals killing, raping, stealing, kidnapping,
demanding ransoms, I understand them slaughtering and burning, blowing up the World Trade Center, but stealing cadavers? Bodies aren't stolen, that's what she meant. Cadavers exist to be buried in cemeteries.

Actually, over, I wasn't hearing what Dalva was saying any longer, just staring at her puzzled face and repeating to myself that at least we hadn't killed anyone. We're not murderers, I repeated silently, and when I focused my attention on Dalva again, I confirmed my earlier predictions: Mr. José wanted to call the police and Dona Lu was against it. They're arguing all the time, Dalva said.

She told me further that Dona Lu was wearing Junior's watch. You know, she said, I think Mr. José is right. They should call the police. If I got my hands on a lowlife like that, I don't know what I'd do. To me anybody who does that kind of thing deserves to die in the electric chair. It's a real shame Brazil doesn't have the death penalty.

After breakfast I felt worse. I became nauseous and went into the bathroom to vomit. I had woken up that morning feeling sick, but Sulamita insisted I mustn't change my routine. At a time like this, she said, anything irregular is suspect.