Who Killed Palomino Molero? Read Online Free Page B

night and day by armed guards, and the houses inhabited by the engineers, technicians, and executives of the I.P.C. They, too, had their pool, complete with diving boards. In town they said the foreign women went swimming half naked.
    After making them wait a long time, Colonel Mindreau finally had them sent into his office. As they walked toward the commander’s door, Lituma looked at the officers and airmen. “Some of these fuckers know what happened.”
    Lieutenant Silva and Lituma snapped to attention at the door and then advanced to the center of the room. On the desk there was a tiny Peruvian flag, a calendar, an engagement book, some forms, a few pencils, and photographs of Colonel Mindreau with his daughter, or his daughter alone. The neatness of the office reflected the colonel’s compulsive personality. Everything was in its place: the file cabinets, the diplomas on the walls, and the huge map of Peru, which served as backdrop for the commander-in-chief of the Talara Air Force Base. Colonel Mindreau was a stubby little man, barrel-chested, with a deeply lined face and a precisely trimmed salt-and-pepper mustache. The man mirrored the office. He studied them with gray, iron-cold eyes that betrayed not the slightest welcome.
    “What can I do for you?” His friendly tone contradicted his glacial face.
    “We’re here again about the murder of Palomino Molero, sir. We need your help, Colonel,” said the lieutenant.
    “Haven’t I already helped?” the colonel cut him off. In his low tone there was an undercurrent of mockery. “Weren’t you both in this very office three days ago? If you’ve lost the memorandum I gave you, I have a copy.”
    He opened a folder he had in front of him, removed a sheet of paper, and read in a toneless voice:
    “Molero Sánchez, Palomino. Born Piura, 13 February 1936. Legitimate son of Doña Asunta Sanchez and Don Teófilo Molero, deceased. Education: primary school; three years of secondary at the San Miguel National High School of Piura. Enlisted in 1953. Began tour of duty Talara Air Force Base 15 January 1954. Third Company, under command Lieutenant Adolfo Capriata. Went through basic training along with other recruits. Went AWOL on night of 23-24 March. Did not report in after a twenty-four-hour pass. Declared a deserter and reported to military police.”
    The colonel cleared his throat and looked at Lieutenant Silva. “Do you want another copy?”
    “Why do you hate us?” thought Lituma. “And why are you such a bully, asshole?”
    “No need for that, Colonel.” Lieutenant Silva smiled. “We haven’t lost the memorandum.”
    “Well, what more do you want? What kind of help can I give you? The memorandum contains everything we know about Palomino Molero. I myself carried out the investigation, in consultation with the officers, noncommissioned officers, and airmen in his company. No one saw him and no one knows who could have killed him or why. I sent my superiors a detailed report and they are satisfied. You, apparently, are not. Well, that’s your problem. The staff of this base is absolutely innocent of any involvement in this matter, and there’s nothing more to be learned here. Molero was a quiet fellow who didn’t pal around with anyone and confided in no one. He doesn’t seem to have had any friends or, for that matter, enemies on the base. According to his performance reports, he was barely mediocre. Maybe that’s why he deserted. Investigate on the outside, find out who knew him in town, the people he was with from the time he deserted until he was killed. You’re wasting your time here, Lieutenant, and I have no intention of wasting mine.”
    Lituma wondered whether the colonel’s peremptory, unwavering tone would intimidate his boss and make him back down. But Lieutenant Silva stood firm.
    “We didn’t come here merely to waste your time, Colonel. We had a reason.” The lieutenant remained at attention and spoke in a calm, measured tone.
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