Dossier - short story - Latin America: Private Eyes & Time Travelers

"Sorry ..., sorry," said Arozmendi, stretching up his arms; the tiny masks shook on his immaculate fists, laughing, agonizing. "What Galvan says seems to hit it right on the money. Once again I've spoken thoughtlessly; I beg all of you gentlemen to understand: it isn't totally true that since this morning I haven't been apart from the dossier. Before you and the young lady arrived, I circulated it around the table in search of support. But I reply with my fourteen years of humble service that, up to then, the lost page was in its place."

"So there's no other choice but to doubt our intentions, gentlemen," he said smiling at one side and the other of the table.

"It wasn't me. I hardly touched it," sobbed Curiel.

"I'm not even totally sure what it's about," protested Benedetto.

"Shut up," said the man with the carnation. "Nobody's blaming you directly. But if Arozmendi isn't lying, and it would be unlikely he would considering his total lack of imagination, one of you tore out the page from the report. Now then, with the exception of Silvera and Ricardo, who have only been with us a few years, you all know all too well what happened to poor Garcini for making a similar mistake. Curiel, Benedetto, Gomez Cuevas: I appeal to your seniority as board members. If the guilty party is among you, kindly have the decency to say so publicly. In a minute it will be too late."

The minute dripped slowly on the bowed heads.

"Time's up," said the man with the carnation in an apocalyptic tone that made the girl tremble. "Ricardo, unmask the traitor."

During the short-lived respite, he had worked out a whole strategy. Although he suspected Gomez Cuevas, his crusade would not be directed exclusively against him. He would fight against everyone, pitching mini-battles in search of alibis, confrontations, accusations. He would try to show the man with the carnation that the guilty party could be any of those elegant and stupid men, including Silvera. Then, in the end, he would launch his attack on the old man.

"Mr. Curiel has just stated that he hardly touched the papers. But that is false," he ventured to say; though the circulation of the dossier was a fact previous to his memories, to all appearances Curiel was the type of person who took everything seriously, even more so knowing beforehand that he'd have to render an opinion on it. "I saw him look at the report meticulously. I would appreciate the cooperation of all those present."

Curiel blanched. He clutched his tie desperately and began to yank on it, first outward and then upward, trying to strangle himself. After a few seconds he fell exhausted and wheezed pitifully on the glass tabletop.

"I saw him too," said Benedetto, pulling his elbow away from the helpless figure.

"It's true, I remember he put on his glasses," said Silvera, somewhat distressed.

"Looks like Mr. Curiel's word is not worth much," said the man with the carnation. "I wouldn't want to think that last Tuesday we weren't hard enough on you. Alright, I'll get together with T.J. when he returns from Bermuda."