— Look at this… look at this! — The coroner kept repeating as he dissected the leg of the deceased.
Durval and Botelho stared intently at the coroner’s work, who made quick and precise movements with the scalpel; the guy seemed to know exactly what he was doing. Durval kept his face slightly contorted, turned a bit to the side, as if suddenly something, perhaps blood, might splatter on his face. His arms crossed in front of his body seemed to indicate that he was not comfortable being so close to a dissected corpse. Botelho appeared to be quite interested. One hand on his chin, the other in his coat pocket, his tall and thin body bent over the table to see clearly.
Rogério, the coroner, was cutting the dead man’s leg from the hip down to near the knee. Gradually, a piece of metal began to emerge from the white flesh, like candle wax. The top part of the piece had a sphere and fit perfectly into the hip bone. The bottom part was so integrated into the end of the thigh bone that it looked like something out of “Terminator 2,” where the metal transformed into parts of the android’s body.
— It looks like a cyborg — Durval dared to comment.
Neither of them responded.
— Is it platinum? — Botelho asked.
— Titanium! — The coroner said. — It’s strong, very light, and practically has no rejection by the body — he ran the tips of his fingers over the joint between the metal and the bone. — A first-rate job, really, first-rate.
— So you mean the victim had a titanium prosthesis — Durval said.
— Practically the entire femur — the coroner added.
— This is really an excellent clue — Durval said and looked at Botelho, who continued with his hand on his chin.
— What kind of accident would require a prosthesis like this? — Durval asked.
— For there to have been almost complete destruction of the femur, it certainly wasn’t just a stumble on a stair step — the coroner said with a smile.
— Could it have been a disease?
— It could. Osteonecrosis affects the femur. That could be the case. But if I had to bet, I would say this is a case of trauma.
Durval turned to Botelho:
— You said the main actor of the movie they are filming here in town is missing.
Botelho nodded.
The line of action for the investigation was decided. Durval needed to talk to those people from the filming. He looked at his watch: fifteen to midnight. And Dolores? He needed to go home and see if his wife had returned. He felt a chill when he imagined she might be missing. Exactly like that actor from the movie.
— I need to go — he said to Botelho.
— Sure. I’ll take you home.
The two said goodbye to the coroner and left.
On the way home, in Botelho’s truck, Durval couldn’t stop thinking about Dolores and what he would do if she still hadn’t arrived. He would have to go to the police. Could it be that Botelho had kidnapped Dolores and that she was locked up somewhere? Durval didn’t know if he felt guilty for suspecting his friend or scared for sitting next to a possible murderer.
Exactly at midnight, they arrived at the house.
Episode XXV continues in the next edition.
JOSÉ GASPAR
Filmmaker and writer
www.historiasdooutromundo.com
jagramos@gmail.com