It’s a necessary precaution because the site is configured in such a way that, from the metallic door that grants access to the apartment, a man armed with a simple revolver could control the entire corridor. He could make it difficult for several whole minutes for any potential enemy to enter. With a machine gun, the position could be held for hours.
Yet when the police—who at that same moment are inspecting a bus at the Saavedra Bridge stop—arrive, no one will show even the slightest resistance. Not a single shot will be fired.
But is there anybody else, aside from those already mentioned? It will be hard to find a witness who remembers everyone; those who would be able to are either missing or dead. We can only guide ourselves with clues. Torres, for instance, will say that there were two more men. He knew that one of the men was an Army NCO. As for the second man, he didn’t even know that much.
Other indirect testimonies also mention the NCO. And they specify: sergeant. The descriptions are confusing and divergent. It seems he got there at the last minute . . . No one knows who brought him . . . Hardly anyone there knew him . . . Someone, though, will see him again, or will believe he sees him, hours later, at the moment when he gets hit with a bullet and collapses.
And the second man? We don’t even know if he existed. Or what his name was, or who he was. Or if he is alive or dead.
With respect to these two men, our search came to a dead end.
It’s a few minutes to eleven. The radio is broadcasting the undercards of the boxing match. The group playing cards falls silent when the commentator announces the presence of Lausse the champion and Loayza the Chilean in the ring.
In the meantime, Giunta has arrived at the apartment in front at around ten-thirty. A perfect calm reigns over Mr. Horacio’s house. Señora Pilar talks to them for a few minutes before turning in. Her daughter Nélida is preparing mate for the guest while Mr. Horacio turns on the receiver.
If he happens to tune in to State Radio, the official voice of the Nation, he will find that they have just finished playing a Bach concert and that at 10:59 p.m., they begin playing a Ravel concert . . .
At around the same time, twenty men have just finished gathering at Florida’s Second Precinct to carry out a mysterious operation.
When Officer Pena finds out who is leading the men, he thinks: Something big.
The word revolution has not yet been uttered. Certainly not on Radio Splendid, where you can hear the tense voice of Fioravanti, the commentator relaying the first moves of the match, over the buzzing of the crowd.
It’s a short and violent fight, and by the second round the outcome seems practically decided. It lasts less than ten minutes in total. Somewhere in the middle of the third round, the champion knocks Loayza out for the count.
The owner of the house and Giunta looked at each other with smiles of satisfaction.
Giunta was drinking a glass of gin and getting ready to go. From the bedroom, Señora Pilar asked her husband for a hot water bottle. Mr. Horacio went to the kitchen, filled up the bottle, and was coming back with it when they heard violent knocks on the door. They sounded like blows made with the butt of a gun or a rifle.
The shout sounded out in the silence of the night:
—Police!
Part Two
The Events
14. Where is Tanco?
Mr. Horacio is so taken aback that he doesn’t even manage to put down the hot water bottle. He runs, turns the key in the lock, and before he can unhook the chain, the door is pushed in violently from the other side, the bolt jumps, and he is shoved, surrounded, mobbed by the throng of policemen and individuals armed with weapons big and small, who in a few seconds flood all the rooms of the house, and whose voices are soon heard in the patio and the corridor that leads to the back. Everything happens at the speed of lightning.