A Small Death in lisbon Read Free

into the brutal noise, the harshest reality there is, of a phone going off in a hangover at 6.00 a.m. I wrenched the handset to my ear. The blissful silence, the faint sea hiss of a distant mobile. My boss Eng. Jaime Leal Narciso gave me a good morning and I tried to find some moisture in my beak to reply.
    'Zé?' he asked.
    'Yes, it's me,' I said, which came out in a whisper as if I had his wife next to me.
    'You're all right then,' he said, but didn't wait for the reply. 'Look, the body of a young girl's been found on the beach at Paço de Arcos and I want...'
    Those words trampolined me off the bed, the phone jack yanked the handset from my grip and I cannoned off the door frame into the hall. I thundered down the distressed strip of carpet and wrenched the door open. Her clothes lay in a track from the door to the bed—clumpy big-heeled shoes, black silk top, lilac shirt, black bra, black flares. Olivia was twisted into her sheet face down, her bare arms and shoulders spread, her black hair, as soft and shiny as sable, splashed across the pillow.
    I drank heavily in the bathroom until my belly was taut with water. I snatched the phone to my ear and lay down on the bed again.
    'Bom dia, Senhor Engenheiro,'
I said, addressing him by his degree in science, as was usual.
    'If you'd given me two seconds I'd have told you she was blonde.'
    'I should have checked last night but...' I paused, synapses clashed painfully, 'why are you calling me at six in the morning to tell me about a body on the beach? Throw your mind back to the weekend roster and you'll find I'm off duty.'
    'Well, the point is you're two hundred metres from the situation and Abílio, who
is
on duty, lives in Seixal which as you know ... It would be...'
    'I'm in no condition to...' I said, my brain still blundering around.
    'Ah yes. I forgot. How was it? How are you?'
    'Cooler about the face.'
    'Good.'
    'More fragile in the head.'
    'They say it could get up to forty degrees today,' he said, not listening.
    'Where are you, sir?'
    'On my mobile.'
    A good answer.
    'There's some good news, Zé,' he said, quickly. 'I'm sending someone to help you.'
    'Who's that?'
    'A young guy. Very keen. Good for leg work.'
    'Whose son is he?'
    'I didn't catch that?'
    'You know I don't like to tread on anybody's toes.'
    'This line's breaking up,' he shouted. 'Look, he's very capable but he could use some experience. I can't think of anybody better.'
    'Does that mean nobody else would have him?'
    'His name is Carlos Pinto,' he said, ignoring my question. 'I want him to see your approach. Your very particular approach. You know, you have this ability with people. They talk to you. I want him to see how you operate.'
    'Does he know where he's going?'
    'I've told him to meet you in that communist's bar you like so much. He's bringing the latest missing persons printout.'
    'Will he recognize me?'
    'I've told him to look for someone who's just had his beard shaved off after twenty-odd years. An interesting test don't you think?'
    The signal finally broke up. He knew. Narciso knew. They all knew. Even if I'd been a stick insect those scales would still have come out at eighty-two kilos. You can't trust anybody these days, not your own daughter, not your own family, not even the
Polícia Judiciária.
    I showered and dried off in front of the mirror. Old eyes, new face looked back at me. Having just levered myself over forty maybe I was too old for this kind of change and yet, just as my wife had said I would, I looked five years younger without the beard.
    Sunlight was beginning to colour the blue into the ocean just visible from the bathroom window. A fishing smack pushed through it and for the first time in a year I had that same surge of hope, a feeling that today could be the first day of a different life.
    I dressed in a white long-sleeved shirt (short sleeves lack gravitas), a light grey suit and a pair of black brogues. I selected one of the thirty ties Olivia had made for me, a