Woes of the True Policeman

“Well, there I was, making coffee, and I could hear mi general breathing and I said to myself: careful, Pedro, you don’t want General Sepúlveda to die on you. And I was about to ask the general whether he was feeling poorly and whether I should call a doctor, when all of a sudden the old man asks what’s your name. And I say: Pedro Negrete, at your service, mi general. And he asks how old I am. And I say: twenty-three, mi general. And by then I have his coffee ready and I set it on the table and I notice that the general is staring at me, his eyes are boring into me, and I think, this man is sizing me up, but why is he sizing me up? And then the general says he doesn’t feel well and I say if you want I can call a doctor, mi general, or an ambulance, all you have to do is say the word, but the general looks me up and down and laughs. Not just any laugh. The kind of laugh that makes your hair stand on end, especially when you’re young, and he says I don’t need a doctor. And I got the sense that the word doctor struck him as funny, because when he repeated it he laughed again. And then I thought, old age is making mi general soft in the head. A naïve, foolish thought, because after all, how old was mi general back then? fifty-eight or fifty-nine, in the prime of life, as they say. And a single look at him was enough to tell you that no such thing was possible, the man was saner than you or me, boys, nothing screwy about him. And that’s where I was, my mind flitting from one thought to the next, when I heard mi general ordering me to pour myself a coffee, too, a gesture I appreciated, since I could really use one. And when my coffee was ready, mi general pointed at a cupboard and told me to open it and I opened it and found a stash of whiskey, because mi general drank only whiskey, boys, like me. And he said-I remember like it was yesterday-Negrete, get down a bottle of whiskey and warm up my coffee a little. And I poured a nice splash of whiskey into his cup, which was almost empty, and then mi general said warm yours up, too, jackass, because you’re going to need it. Which was an offer that sounded more like a warning or a threat, don’t you think? but I ignored it because frankly I felt like a drink. So I poured whiskey in my coffee and I drank it down. And when I was done mi general made a toast-to life, I think-and I raised my glass too. And as we were going on the fifth or sixth shot the old man said that in the servant’s room there was a dead body. And I said: you’re kidding, mi general, and he looked me in the eyes and said that he never kidded anyone. Go take a look, he said, see for yourself. Then I got up and went searching all over the house for that goddamn room. I got lost a few times, but at last I found it. It was under the main stairs, the ones that went up to the second floor. And what do you think was the first thing I saw when I went in? Mi general Sepúlveda sitting on one of the beds, waiting for me! I almost shat myself I was so scared, lads! What do you say to that?”

“Incredible,” said the policemen.