Page 759 - Microsoft Word - Belicena respaldo

knew that something really terrible had happened: the rotative lights in the ceiling of the
policial patrols confirmed tragically our suspicions and fears. Ignoring the policemen that
guarded the entrance, Uncle Kurt turned the jeep and took the path towards the city at great
speed. Evidently now nothing mattered to him: neither his strategic coberture, nor the possible
persecutions if he was discovered, nor that according to his new identity nothing linked him
with the Siegnagel-von Sübermann. Poor Uncle Kurt! In thirty five years never dared to cross
that palisade to visit his only sister, and now he had to do it for his funeral!

Because everyone had died, even my Mother, that’s to say, his siter Beatriz! And in the
most terrible way!

Parked next to the palisade, behind the taheebos where I received in hands of my
mother the fatidical letter of Belicena Villca, were four cars: two police patrols and two
ambulances. At one side of the taheebo, my favorite, beneath its blessed shadow I studied my
universitary careers and meditated about the mystery of man and his miserable terrestrial
existence, was the lifeless body of Canuto, covered by some bloodied newspapers. How much
had changed such place in just two months! The happiness of the family had turned in death
and bereavement! Damn Letter of Belicena Villca! If just I would have not read it! I tortured
myself pointlessly. As I said at the beginning: «But in the life of some persons there are
traps carefully placed: it is enough to touch a spring to unchain irreversible
mechanisms».
At feeling the motor of the jeep many men went out from the house. One of them was
the police Commisar of Cerrillos, who knew me since I was a child.
–Jesus, Arturo Siegnagel! Just in time! –He said without thinking, because then he
regreted, looked down, and putting one hand over my shoulder he spoke me cautiously, it
means, all delicately that a policeman can say faced to a hallucinative multiple homicide. Uncle
Kurt remained stood beside me.
–Excuse me, Arturo. The truth is that you have not arrived at time. I just said it
thinking in the investigation, because we ignored where to find you. I don’t know how to say it,
understand that I am a cop, not a priest, but you must know that all your family has been
murdered in strange mode.
I feinted to the interior of the house, due to none body had been uploaded on the
ambulances, but the Commisar stopped me. «Wait a second, Arturo, but it is my duty to
interrogate you» Did you know that something had happened here? From where do you come
now?
–Oh yes! –I affirmed hastily– I knew that something wrong was happening because no
one answered the phone of the Property this morning. It was for that reason that we left
immediately here.
–But where you did the call, where were you? –He wanted to know without excuses.
–Well, in the Property of this friend present here, Mr. Cerino Sanguedolce, who is candy
maker in Santa María de Catamarca and with whom I was adjusting a business to sell him our
leftover wort. Since some days ago that I was there.
–Ok, Arturo, I’ll verify it. You are the Medic and it is supposed that must possess «cold

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