Operation Massacre(35)

            How did Sergeant Díaz escape? We can only speculate. What we know for sure is that, two months after the massacre, he was still alive, hidden in a house in Munro. That’s where the police commissioner of Boulogne arrested him. He was sent to Olmos. He is the only survivor I was never able to reach.

            And the “NCO X”? Did he exist? Who was the man that Troxler and Benavídez saw being shot dead in the truck? One of the twelve whom we already know of, but who was a stranger to them? The mystery remains to this day.

            Without a doubt, the massacre left five dead, one critically wounded, and six survivors.

            ***

            The sun had come up over the dreadful scene of the execution. The corpses were scattered along the main road. Several had fallen into a ditch, and the blood in the stagnant water seemed to transform it into an unbelievable river floating with strands of brain matter. A good while later, they emptied one truck of tar there and another of lime . . .

            There were Mauser cartridges everywhere. For many days after the fact, the boys of the neighborhood sold them to curious visitors. Faraway houses were left with marks from stray bullets.

            The first to stop by the road that morning were unsuspecting townspeople on their way to work. After that, word spread through the town and a horrified, sullen crowd began to congregate around the atrocious sight.

            Completely absurd accounts of what had happened were circulating in hushed voices.

            —They were students —one person declared.

            —Yes, they were going to attack Campo de Mayo . . . —said another.

            Most were silent. The men took off their hats, a woman crossed herself.

            Then everyone saw a new, long and shiny car coming along the road. It stopped suddenly in front of the group and a woman peeked her head out the window.

            —What’s going on? —she asked.

            —These people . . . They’ve been executed —they responded.

            She made an ironic gesture.

            —Very well done! —she remarked.— They should kill all of them.

            An astonished silence settled over the crowd. Then something traced the form of a parabola in the air and crashed onto the polished bodywork of the car in a cloud of dirt. After the first clump made contact, there was another, and then came the deluge. Howling and furious, the crowd surrounded the car. The driver managed to floor it.

            The dead bodies were left out in the open until ten in the morning. At that point an ambulance came and took them to the San Martín polyclinic, where they were flung carelessly into a warehouse. Rodríguez was riddled with bullets; Garibotti had just one bullet wound, in his back. Carranza had many, including in his legs . . .

            The night watchman at the depot was accustomed to the sight of dead bodies. When he arrived that afternoon, though, there was something that deeply shocked him. One of the executed men had his arms out by his sides and his head leaning on one shoulder. He had an oval face, blond hair, the beginnings of a beard, a melancholic expression, and a trail of blood coming from his mouth.

            He was wearing a white cardigan. It was Mario Brión and he looked like Christ.26

            The man stood there dazed for a moment.

            Then he folded Brión’s arms across his chest.

            Footnotes:

                                                  25    I had been very intrigued by this topographical trace that Mr. Horacio kept mentioning and that I had never managed to observe during my three or four visits to the garbage dump. That was until I went with him one day. Soon enough, after the two of us had looked for it for a good while, I saw it. It was fascinating, worthy of a Chesterton story. Moving fifty paces in any direction, the optical effect would disappear, the “tree” would split into many trees. At that moment I knew—it was an unusual kind of proof—that I was at the scene of the execution.