For Sampaio, a political appointee and a political animal, it really wasn’t much of a choice. He did exactly what Silva expected him to do.
“Damn,” he said, “I forgot about the corruption hearings. I’ll have to stay here. I could be called upon to testify.”
There was not the least chance of Sampaio being called upon to testify. The congressional corruption hearings were dead in the water. The politicians charged with conducting them were stonewalling, some to protect their buddies, some to protect themselves.
But Silva nodded, as if what the Director said made perfect sense.
“Mind you,” Sampaio added, “You’ll be calling me with updates at least twice a day.”
“Of course,” Silva said.
He had no intention of doing any such thing.
Chapter Three
The Federal Police’s Sao Paulo field office operated under the direction of Delegado Hector Costa.
Some people said he owed his position to his uncle’s influence.
They were wrong.
Silva had done everything he could to convince his nephew to embrace a less dangerous profession-and failed. When Hector had been accepted to the Federal Police, Silva had steadfastly refused to promote his advancement in the hope he’d quit. The result was to make Hector more stubborn, more determined to succeed. He’d worked hard, and in the end, it had made him an even better cop.
While the Director and the Chief Inspector were having their conversation in Brasilia, the Delegado was already on his way to the crime scene. Sao Paulo’s morning rush hour was still in progress, but traffic was flowing toward the city’s center while Hector was moving away from it. Less than forty minutes after leaving his office, he’d already entered Juraci Santos’s closed condominium in the suburb of Granja Viana.
He parked next to an ambulance, complimented the agent minding the crime-scene tape and entered Juraci Santos’s home through the front door. Someone had propped it open with a block of wood.