Durval returned to the room and stood by the window. He knew he wasn’t crazy. And if he was, then his wife and the maid were too. The three of them had seen the corpse in the kitchen. But now there was nothing there.
— So? — asked Inspector Moreira.
— There’s nothing in the kitchen — said Durval, not paying attention to what he had just said.
Durval couldn’t stop thinking about the image. The body was face down. There was a pool of blood around the head. He was wearing jeans and a light blue shirt. He had dark, almost black hair, his arms were awkwardly down along his body, and his legs were stretched out. Next to him, the cat was licking the blood. He knew he had seen it.
Dolores looked at her husband with a questioning expression in her eyes.
— Durval! You’re scaring me — said Dolores. — It can’t have disappeared.
Durval went to the sofa and sat down next to his wife. He didn’t know what to do. Had the three of them gone crazy in that house? Had they breathed in some hallucinogenic gas that made them see a corpse? Had the cat devoured the dead man entirely? Moreira had been the last to enter the kitchen; could the inspector have moved the body while he was alone in there? But why would he do that?
— I looked everywhere. Even in the backyard. How could it have disappeared? — said Durval.
— Durval, today is Wednesday, the day for reviewing inquiries. We’re swamped at the precinct. Is this one of your jokes? — said the inspector.
— But we saw the body! Even Joana saw it! — said Dolores, almost crying.
Moreira didn’t understand what the hell was happening with the two old folks. He stood up and went to the door of the room. He opened it and called Joana.
The maid appeared at the door, looking scared at the couple on the sofa. She stood in the entrance as if afraid to enter the house.
— What did you see in the kitchen, Joana? — asked the inspector.
— There was a dead man, Mr. Moreira! With blood.
— Then someone took the body out of there or the dead man walked away. I don’t know what’s happening here, but I’m going to file a report. You’ll have to come to the precinct.
Joana looked at Durval, pleading for help. What was she supposed to say to the inspector? Had she seen the dead man or not? At this point, she seemed to no longer know.
— Or, more likely here — continued the inspector — Joana imagined things once again, and you wanted to play a prank on me.
Durval stood up and went to the two at the entrance of the room.
— Moreira, I’m sorry. That’s exactly what happened.
Moreira was silent for a moment, not believing it, then looked at Joana, who lowered her face.
— Don’t take it the wrong way. It was a stupid idea. The blame is mine — said Durval, smiling awkwardly.
— I should arrest all three of you — said the inspector.
Dolores seemed to want to say something, but she swallowed hard.
Moreira left through the front door, visibly irritated.
Durval’s smile gradually faded as he waited for the inspector to walk away, closed the door, and walked over to the armchair where Moreira had sat. He looked at Dolores, who stared at him in confusion. She threatened to say something, but Durval signaled for her to be quiet. Without saying anything, he bent down with difficulty. First one leg, then the other. He placed both hands on the floor and flexed his arms, bringing his face closer to the blue carpet.
Right in front of the armchair where the inspector had sat, there was a red mark on the carpet. A blood footprint.
Episode V continues in the next edition.