Where There's Love, There's Hate by Adolfo Bioy Casares

Author:Adolfo Bioy Casares [Casares, Adolfo Bioy]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-1-61219-151-5
Publisher: Melville House
Published: 2013-05-14T04:00:00+00:00

16

THE COMMISSIONER CALLED US TOGETHER in the dining room.

“Gentlemen,” he said, with stentorian gravity. “I hope that you are all prepared to testify. I will set myself up in the manager’s office and you will come to me, one by one, like sheep at a watering hole.”

“Don’t you have a sense of humor? Why aren’t you laughing?” Montes asked me.

I was about to issue a pointed response, but the smell of alcohol on his breath caused me to retreat.

The interrogations began. I was among the first to be called in. Although they didn’t pressure me, I told them all that I knew, not omitting a single detail that might help guide the investigation. Like a benevolent crime novelist, I restricted myself to dispensing appropriate emphasis. I was confident that, under my yoke, even Aubry’s modest intelligence would succeed in solving the mystery.

As I was leaving the office, I became aware that a crucial omission had tarnished my exposition. I tried to go back in, but they would not admit me. I would be forced to wait until all the other witnesses had offered up their longwinded babblings. Purgatory is never brief.

It would not, perhaps, be futile, to recount here one small detail—which Aubry shared with me in subsequent conversations—from Andrea’s testimony. It seems that the night before, my cousin, as was her habit, had placed a cup of hot chocolate on Mary’s bedside table. Now the cup was gone. Andrea admitted that she hadn’t noticed its absence at first, and offered, by means of an explanation, the delicate condition of her nerves.

The white toast I had ordered arrived at last. My spirit was revived.

When they summoned me, I did not jump up as one receiving an order, but rather rose, as one seeking recompense. As I entered the office I whispered the time-honored verse:

At last, a bird passed by.

Out of the mist he did fly.

With a wave of my hand, I greeted him

As though he were a good Christian.

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