Durval always wondered why he left Botelho’s house when it was getting dark. He knew that the dirt roads became impassable when it rained, and it always rained in that place. It was almost ten o’clock at night when the limping caretaker opened the gate amidst the fine drizzle, and Durval left the “Quinta da Neblina” estate in his red 78 Corcel. Botelho’s wife had been kind to insist that he have dinner before leaving. Durval couldn’t resist her delicious baked pasta with melted cheese. But the price for the tasty meal was to drive the kilometers of dirt road down to the city amidst increasingly heavy rain. At least he confirmed that the stain found on the living room carpet was indeed blood. But that still didn’t clarify much. First: Who removed the corpse from the kitchen without anyone seeing? Second: Whose footprint was on the carpet? According to Botelho, the mark was from a high-heeled shoe. A woman was the murderer. But how had she entered the house’s living room without being noticed? The windshield wipers were on maximum speed, but it was becoming increasingly difficult to see the road. The descent was steep and full of curves. On one side, a dirt wall, and on the other, a cliff; down below, the illuminated city. Durval descended slowly in first gear, not wanting to tumble down the cliff. Carefully, he tried to avoid the puddles; getting stuck in that place would be very inconvenient. The windows were fogged up from the inside. Durval grabbed the orange cloth from the glove compartment and wiped. It seemed that the more he wiped, the worse it got. He opened the window a bit in hopes of clearing the glass. Only then did he realize there was a car behind him. The high beams were on. Durval slowed down and made way, moving closer to the dirt wall on the left. But the car didn’t overtake. Was it afraid of falling off the cliff?, Durval thought, and moved the Corcel even closer to the wall. There was enough space to pass, but the car accelerated and violently hit the rear of the Corcel, causing it to skid on the muddy road. Durval’s heart, which had already suffered two heart attacks, began to race in his chest. Reflexively, he increased the speed of the Corcel. But the car behind did the same. The sound of the rain on the roof mixed with the loud engine noise of the car behind, with its forced accelerations and lunges toward the Corcel. Further ahead was a sharp left turn. Just before Durval could make the turn, the car hit the rear of the Corcel again. Durval maneuvered to the left, and the two cars were side by side. It was hard to see because of the rain and darkness, but the car was taller than the Corcel, perhaps a pickup truck. On the right side, the edge of the cliff was dizzying; it would be a long fall. And then the car hit hard on the side of the Corcel, pushing it toward the cliff. Durval noticed the exact moment when the front wheel lost traction with the road.
Episode IX continues in the next edition.
JOSÉ GASPARFilmmaker and writerwww.historiasdooutromundo.comjagramos@gmail.com