Rubem Fonseca - Winning the Game and Other Stories

“Go on,” I said.

“Uncle Rodolfo showed me the letter from that Marly woman and then left it on the night table. The next day I took the letter, found that woman’s phone number, and called her. I said who I was and that I had a message from Uncle Rodolfo. We arranged a meeting for after office hours. I chose a deserted beach where I swim sometimes. She was arrogant and said to tell Uncle Rodolfo not to treat her like dirt. When the old lady dies, she threatened, that bastard will have to marry me. I had Uncle Rodolfo’s revolver in my bag. It only took one shot. She fell forward, moaning. I ran and got my car, found Márcio, and asked him to sell me some coke. I did a few lines at his place, the first time in six months. I was desperate. I dozed off, and Márcio must have gone through my bag and taken the letter while I was asleep. When Uncle Rodolfo told me you were meeting Márcio at Gordon’s, I got there first so you wouldn’t find him. I made up a story that Uncle Rodolfo had sent the police after him.”

“Please stop calling him uncle.”

“That’s what I always called him, and I’m not going to change now. Márcio was furious and went to Uncle Rodolfo’s house the next day. You know that part, you saw it all.”

“Not everything.”

“I met Márcio in the garden, when he was leaving. He told me Uncle Rodolfo was going to pay him off, but that he wasn’t going to return the letter. I set up a time with him to buy some cocaine; I’d already made up my mind to get him out of the way. Márcio was in an easy chair watching television, already spaced out on coke and whiskey. I went up to him and shot him in the head. I felt nothing, except disgust, as if he were a cockroach.”

“You didn’t find the letter. It was in Márcio’s pocket.”

“I searched everywhere, but I’d never look in his pocket. Touching him would make me sick,” Lilly said.

“What happened to the money?”

“It was in a suitcase. I took it home. It’s in my bedroom closet.”

I stopped the car. She was holding her purse tightly between trembling hands.

“Give that to me,” I said.

“No!” she answered, clutching the bag to her chest.

I tore the bag from her grasp. The Taurus was inside: two-inch barrel, mother-of-pearl handle. Her eyes were a bottomless abyss.

“Leave the gun with me,” Lilly asked.

I shook my head.

“Then take me back, so I can be with Uncle Rodolfo.”

“I have to find Guedes. Take a cab. And I’d hire a lawyer right away.”

“Everything’s ruined, isn’t it?”

“Unfortunately it is. For all of us,” I replied.

I put her in a taxi and went looking for Guedes. I thought about Eve. Farewell, my lovely. The long good-bye. The big sleep. There was no one inside my body. The hands on the steering wheel seemed to belong to someone else.

THE HOUSE HAD SEVERAL BEDROOMS. I asked which of them I was supposed to sleep in. She took me to a bedroom that was close to hers.

I sat on the bed, tested the mattress.

“No good, it’s too soft. It’ll kill my back.”

I tested the mattresses in all the bedrooms until I found a firm one.

“This one’s good. You got a shirt I can use? I forgot to bring anything to sleep in.”

The woman came back right away with a white shirt.

“This is the largest I have. I just wore it once, does it matter?”

I thanked the woman and said good night. I put on the shirt, smelled the scent in the fabric, a mixture of clean skin and perfume.

I looked for a position for sleep. My back hurt. I had a lot of broken and badly healed bones scattered around my body.

The woman knocked on the door so softly that I nearly didn’t hear her.

“Yes?”

“It’s me. I’d like to speak to you.”

“One moment.”

I put on my pants and opened the door.

She was wearing a robe, and a woman in a robe always reminds me of my mother. In fact, the only thing I remember about my mother is the robe.

“You’re too far away; I don’t feel protected. I can’t sleep. Can’t you go to the room next to mine? We can take the firm mattress from this bed and exchange it for the other one.”

I took my firm mattress to the bedroom next to hers.

I sat on the bed.

“I think everything’s all right now. I can sleep on this. Good night.”

“Good night.”

I couldn’t take more than ten minutes lying down. The pain in my spine increased. I got out of bed and sat in an armchair that was in the room.

Another knock on the door.

“What is it?”

“I heard a noise in the garden,” she whispered through the door. “I think there’s someone in the garden.”

I put on my pants. Opened the door. She was still in her robe.

“It must be your imagination. You’re very nervous. Where in the garden?”

“In the magnolia grove. There aren’t any lights there, and I had the impression that I saw a light going on and off.”

“You have a flashlight?”

“Yes.”

The woman gave me the flashlight.

“Be careful. I’ve told you the horrible things that have been happening with me, haven’t I?”

“You ought to go to your apartment in the city.”

“It’s worse there. I had to disconnect the telephone because of the calls in the middle of the night, threatening me. And there are people following me in the street. Here, at least, there are bars on all the windows, and the doors are metal. Take the revolver.”

“It’s better if you keep the revolver. Lock the door. And don’t go looking out through the window.”

It was a large country estate. A lawn with flowerbeds ringed the house. In the middle of the grass, a swimming pool. In the rear, the caretaker’s house and the garden. The rest of the estate was woods and large trees, which made the night even darker. Stone benches were scattered among the trees. I sat down on one of them, in the magnolia grove. I waited, with the lit flashlight on the bench.

Sonya emerged silently from the darkness and sat down beside me on the stone bench.

“Did you leave the revolver where she could see it?”

“I left it in her hand. I’m following your plan.”

“Listen to this noise,” Sonya said, taking a recorder from her purse and turning it on. It sounded like the moan of someone dying. “Doesn’t it sound like a ghost?”

“You two are lucky there’s no dog here.”

“There was. We poisoned it. Jorge poisoned it. When’s she going to use the revolver?”

“She’s scared to death, let’s wait a bit. Who’s Jorge?”

“If you don’t know, I’m not going to tell you.”

“Why do you want the woman dead?”

“That’s none of your concern.”

“I’m going back to the house. Turn off the moans. That’s enough for now.”

“Don’t forget our agreement,” Sonya said. “This has to be taken care of within three days. If she’s still undecided, you put the bullet in her head yourself.”

I went back to the house. The woman opened the door, holding my revolver. She was trembling, her eyes wide.

“What was that noise?”

“Nothing.”

“Nothing? I heard it. Do you think I’m crazy?”

“No.”

“I know, I know you think I’m crazy.”

The woman pointed the revolver at me.

“Tell me the truth. You think I’m crazy. The caretakers thought I was crazy and ran off one night without saying a word. I’ve just heard a loud moan, the sound of a soul in agony, like mine, and you tell me it was nothing? And this revolver with no bullets? Is that how you were going to defend me? With an unloaded gun?”

“How do you know it’s not loaded?”

“I put it up to my head and pulled the trigger six times. Nothing happened.”