Sweet Money Read Free

police hospital. I go there and arrange things with the director, a friend of mine, tell him to make sure they take good care of you and put you in a private room. I spread the word that they killed you, and that’s what I tell that dimwit Giribaldi, who swallows it whole and doesn’t even check for bones. And the girl? What girl? Eva, she was with me. Don’t know anything about her. Tell me, if it’s not out of the goodness of your heart, why are you doing this? I’m no use to you. You’re wrong there, Perro, you see, if everyone was like me we’d be totally fucked. The police force is a wonderful business opportunity, but in order for it to stay like that it’s got to be minimally effective, it’s got to be for real. Some of the guys don’t get that, they don’t realize how important that is. They don’t get it that they’ve got to let cops like you do your job. Now, we’ve also got to make sure the likes of you don’t get too powerful and throw a spanner in the works with your ideals. You know how Ford defined an idealist? Sounds like you’re going to tell me. An idealist is a man who helps another man get rich. And the other man, what is he, a cynic? Could be, but let’s not get moralistic. As I was saying, there were those who wanted to get you out of the way, not just Giribaldi and the military, in the police, too. That’s why it’s better for you to stay “dead”, that is, if you don’t want to be for real.
     
    Turcheli stands up, looks out the window, walks over to the door, closes it and returns with a triumphant smile.
I’m going to tell you a secret. I’m listening. I’ve bagged the Chief of Police job. How’d you manage that? Last year I joined the sect. What sect? There’s these retreats, see, they’re called Christian Training Courses. All the military bigwigs, they’ve all been to one. It’s like this. Twelve guys get together in a convent for three days. The only thing you can do is read the Bible and pray. You can’t talk to anybody. Every half-hour a priest comes and gives you a lecture on God and the Devil, heaven and hell, good and bad. You know, that kind of thing. You listen and you don’t say a word. That goes on for three days. I’m telling you, at a certain point your mind goes blank. And right then, as if they knew it, they start drilling your head full of that shit about the great Christian family, your obligation to help and protect one another. Anyway, that’s where the guys with real power go, the generals, the admirals, the president of the chamber of commerce, the general secretary of a trade union. Imagine that. I never thought of you as religious, Jorge. It’s just that if you want to rise in the world, you’ve got no choice. Really? No training, no promotion. Bet you can’t guess who I ran into there? Carlitos Balá, the clown. Close but no cigar. Grondona. From the Football Association? No, you idiot, the other one, the TV host. You’re kidding. The best part is that in the end, everyone there vows to give a hand to everyone else, always, no matter what the circumstances. A few days ago there was a big hullaballoo on TV and in the papers about a girl who was raped and killed in Belgrano. The niece of a minister, so you can imagine the uproar. I had to make some public statements. I called Grondona. Talked to his secretary. The following Sunday, there I was, on television, comforting the girl’s parents, that’s when I scored big points. These days, if you’re not on TV, Perro, you don’t exist. Real politics happens on that little screen. And this week comes my coup de grâce. We caught the guy who did it. It’s all hush-hush until Thursday
night. That’s when I announce we’ve solved the case during a press conference, on TV. It’s a done deal. Sunday I’m back on Grondona’s programme handing the parents their daughter’s killer with his hands and feet bound. You like? Not bad. And that’ll do it, Perro, I’ll be Chief, I’ll beat the