Five

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Arriving at new airports is one of the most poignant memories I have from that period of the investigation. When travelling for holidays, arriving at the destination comes with a sense of relief. The tedium of getting to where you are going is over and the pleasure can begin.

Arriving in Rio that day, I only had a sense of foreboding. Talking with Martin Bradmore's widow had been uncomfortable, I had a feeling we were in for something worse in Rio.

This time there was no cryptic sign or nervous health official waiting for us outside arrivals. Instead a tall muscular policeman in dark glasses approached us at baggage claim. He introduced himself as Capitão Cavalcanti and escorted us through a side door, immediately away from public view. Apart from introducing himself and telling us to follow him, Cavalcanti said nothing more until we were at his car.

In an area reserved for security vehicles, he opened the trunk of an unmarked BMW and told us to put our bags inside. Once we were all in the car, he drove at seemingly breakneck speed through the airport complex and out onto the southbound Avenue President João Goulart. Here he drove faster, slicing effortlessly through the traffic heading for downtown Rio de Janeiro.

On the flight I had studied the latest, but still limited information Hiro had sent to me and Evelyn. We now knew the priest's body was being stored at the Hospital Universitário Clementino Fraga Filho. Coming up to the first interchange I saw 'Universitário' on the overhead gantry sign and presumed we would turn off there, but Cavalcanti stayed on the highway south. We too seemed to be heading for downtown Rio proper.

When the silence in the car became too much, and hoping to arrive at our destination with as much information as possible, I asked Cavalcanti what he could tell us about how the priest, named as Father Cardoso, had died.

Cavalcanti's head didn't move and I couldn't tell whether his eyes, hidden behind his dark sunglasses, reacted or not. I began to wonder if he had even heard me and was about to ask again when he spoke in broken English.

'Sorry, me Anglish is not very good.'

As I sat back, Evelyn leaned forward. 'O que você pode dizer a mim mesmo e ao meu colega sobre as circunstâncias da morte do Padre Cardoso?'.

This time there was a flick of the Captain's head. I pictured his eyes wide with surprise behind his dark lenses.

Evelyn's mother had been born in Brazil and lived there until she was fourteen. She had insisted her daughter knew her mother's tongue as well as that of her Australian father.

'Father Cardoso was killed,' Cavalcanti said economically, and in clear English.

'Killed? As in he died at the hands of someone else?' Evelyn said.

'Yes. I have his killer in custody already. It is a straightforward case. At least it was until the useless pathologist messed everything up. He must be blind not to be able to see how the father was killed, yet he reports the death to some foundation I've never heard of.'

'The Oswaldo Cruz Foundation,' I said matter-of-factly and Cavalcanti's dark glasses flashed at me in the mirror again. 'They raised the alert on our global network,' I added, answering his unspoken question.

'The next day I am told I have to pick the two of you up from the airport and to make sure I get you out of the airport quietly and quickly,' Cavalcanti said sourly. 'Yet I have been told very little why the World Health Organization is interfering with my murder investigation. Why are you here?'

'We are not exactly sure? We might know more once we have seen Father Cardoso's body,' Evelyn said, only deepening the distrust of the Captain.

'You're not going to,' Cavalcanti said, 'all I want to do is close my investigation and I am not going to waste my time being a taxi service. I am taking you the Policia Federal building. I have told Dr. Ribeiro, from the foundation, to come as well. I will show you both the security camera footage of the death of Father Cardoso. You will see it clearly shows he was murdered and then you will leave me to get on with my police work.'

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