Giunta is still mulling over what happened with Cuello, but tries to console his neighbor.
—Don’t think about those things, Mr. Mario. Didn’t you hear them say they were taking us to La Plata . . .
If they could see anything, they would realize that they are getting farther and farther away from their alleged destination. Next to Giunta is Mr. Horacio. He also believes they are being taken to La Plata. In front of Mr. Horacio is Vicente Rodríguez, quiet and pensive. Gavino is sitting next to Carranza. He is afraid, while Carranza is trusting. The one who is also trusting, confident, even optimistic in all of this, is Juan Carlos Livraga. He is a bus driver who knows the roads, he should realize that they’re not taking them where they say they are. Still, he notices nothing.
In the back seats are Lizaso, Díaz, Benavídez, Troxler . . . Troxler is tense, alert, trying to look out for the slightest indication that might let him know where he is. He is very familiar with the guards and used to dealing with them and giving them orders. Why don’t any of them want to look him in the eye? Julio Troxler must have noticed something in their behavior that made him so suspicious.
The truck drives back into a populated area. On the left is a thousand-meter stretch unevenly scattered with houses. Then houses appear on the right as well. The road cuts diagonally across lots and streets for another thousand meters. And suddenly it widens and splits into two. Troxler almost jumps up in his seat. He has just figured out where they are. They are at the intersection of Route 8 and the Camino de Cintura highway.19 So, not only are they not going to La Plata, they are going in the opposite direction. And Route 8 leads to Campo de Mayo. And in Campo de Mayo . . .
One particular incident interrupts his conclusions. The driver is feeling sick. He stops the truck, gets off, and looks like he’s vomiting. There is an exchange with those in the van.
One of the prisoners—it’s Benavídez—offers to help.
—If you want, I can drive —he says, completely innocently.— I know how to drive.
They don’t pay attention to him. The driver gets back on. They set out again.
“And in Campo de Mayo . . .” Troxler thinks to himself. But he is wrong. Because the assault car turns at a clear right angle onto the Camino de Cintura, it’s heading north!
It is incomprehensible.
Footnotes:
18 In his statement, Gavino lists the prisoners by name, including “N. N., a young man, approximately thirty-five years old, blond and mustached,” who must have been Giunta. But he leaves out Mario Brión. In contrast, the joint statement of Troxler and Benavídez (which is also in my possession) lists “Mario N.” but leaves out Giunta. The explanation that occurs to me is this: Gavino, Troxler, and Benavídez didn’t know Brión or Giunta from before. These latter two share certain physical similarities. Seeing them from one moment to the next in the semi-darkness of the truck, the men came to identify one with the other, combining two people into just one.
19 DG: Camino de Cintura, also known as Provincial Route 4, is a highway in the Province of Buenos Aires that encompasses the City of Buenos Aires.
22. The End of the Journey
It really is incomprehensible. What is Rodríguez Moreno thinking? Continuing west on Route 8, there is a four- or five-kilometer lot about ten blocks away, a true barren land in the night where there is even a bridge over a river—the perfect setting for what’s about to happen. And yet, they turn north towards José León Suárez and enter a semi-populated area where there are only wastelands, each about three or four blocks long.