The Neighborhood by Mario Vargas Llosa
When Shorty finished speaking and asked for the check, she told Ceferino that now he could ask her all the questions he’d like. But Ceferino replied, in a quiet voice, his head down, that for the moment he wouldn’t, because he felt demolished, like the only time he had tried to run a marathon and had to stop at kilometer seventeen because his legs were trembling and he felt he was going to collapse. He would ask her questions later, or perhaps tomorrow, when he had digested everything he’d just heard her say and his head cleared a little, because it had turned into a labyrinth, a pandemonium, a volcano. Shorty paid the bill, and they left and took a taxi back to the editorial offices of Exposed. They both knew that from then on their lives would never again be what they had been.
21
Special Edition of Exposed
POLITICAL-CRIMINAL EXPOSÉ
In this issue, for the first time, our weekly abandons show business—the world of the plasma screen, the stage, acetate, and the silver screen, which is its world—and dedicates all its pages to reporting on crime and politics in order to denounce, in all its scabrous detail, the truth regarding the monstrous crime that brought down its founder, the late eminent journalist, Rolando Garro.
EDITORIAL
WE KNOW BUT WE’RE DOING IT
By our editor, Julieta Leguizamón
We know that this may be the last issue of our beloved magazine. We know the risk we run publishing this special edition of Exposed, which denounces as a murderer and a corruptor of the Peruvian press the man who has, perhaps, accumulated more power, increased more corruption, and caused more destruction in the history of our beloved nation, Peru: the head of the Intelligence Service, known to all factions by his famous pseudonym: the Doctor.
We know that I might lose my life, as did the lamented Rolando Garro, the eminent journalist and founder of this weekly, and all the reporters, employees, and photographers of Exposed might, like me, lose their jobs, their salaries, and be the victims, they and their families, of a merciless, savage pursuit by the bloodthirsty power of the Doctor and his master and accomplice, President Fujimori.
We know this, and yet, without hesitation, we are doing it: we are putting out this incendiary issue of Exposed, demonstrating explicitly, conclusively, and categorically that with the murder of Rolando Garro—one of God alone knows how many others—the current government has committed one of the most atrocious murders of liberty in the history of Peru (perhaps of the entire world) and one of the cruelest violations of freedom of expression committed against a journalist, one who was polemical, that’s true, but respected even by his worst enemies, who recognized his talent, his guts, his testosterone, his professionalism, and his love for our ancient country.
Why do we do it, risking everything?
First of all, and above all, because of our love of freedom. Because without freedom of expression and freedom to criticize, power can commit any outrage, crime, or theft, like those that have darkened our recent history. And because of our love of truth and justice, values for which journalists must be prepared to sacrifice everything, including their lives.
And because if acts like the cowardly and base murder of Rolando Garro, and the equally vile and grotesque falsification of justice signified by attributing the murder to a poor old man without all his faculties—we refer to the veteran and esteemed reciter Juan Peineta—if they go unpunished, Peru will sink even deeper into the infernal abyss into which it has fallen because of the authoritarian, kleptomaniac, manipulative, and criminal regime that dominates us.
And we do it because, by expounding these stinging truths, we help to impede—though with a tiny grain of sand—Peru’s becoming, because of the Doctor and his master, President Fujimori, a banana republic, one of those caricatures that damage our America. The die is cast. Alea jacta est.
Julieta Leguizamón
(Editor)
THE BEGINNING OF THE STORY
A PERVERTED FOREIGNER
AN AMBUSHED MILLIONAIRE
AND THE ORGY OF CHOSICA
(CONFESSIONS OF CEFERINO ARGÜELLO,
OUR VALIANT GRAPHIC REPORTER)
by Estrellita Santibáñez
The story of the murder of the journalist Rolando Garro, ordered by the strongman in the regime of Engineer Fujimori known as the Doctor, begins a little more than two years ago. A mysterious foreigner named Kosut (undoubtedly a false name), about whom the Immigration Service has no data regarding his entering or leaving the country, which might indicate that he is a gangster, a member of an international mafia, hired our workmate at the editorial offices of Exposed, the distinguished photographer Ceferino Argüello, to photograph a supposed social event that would take place in a house in Chosica.
“I was miserably deceived by this individual, who seemed to be a respectable businessman and was in reality a liar, a cheat, and probably an agent for international cartels,” Ceferino tells us. “He hired me to photograph a supposed social gathering that was, if truth be told, an orgy with prostitutes.”
How many whores were at the orgy, Ceferino?
Four, I seem to remember. Or maybe five. I didn’t have a good view of the gathering because I was taking pictures from concealed locations, so that my view was somewhat limited. But my cameras did have a broad perspective and were working well.
Could you describe for us the characteristics of the orgy you photographed, Ceferino?
Well, everybody ended up taking off their clothes and practicing coitus, or the sexual act, at times in the correct way and at times in the rear. As the respective photographs I took show.
Do you mean, Ceferino, that the whores, the mysterious foreigner, and Engineer Don Enrique Cárdenas took off their clothes and fornicated right there, like animals, getting together indiscriminately?
They not only fornicated, if with that verb you mean they made love, Shorty. Because there were also other positions, vulgarly known as going down and sucking off, and, I believe, even an attempt by Señor Kosut to sodomize, if you’ll permit me the highfalutin word, one of the whores; but, apparently, it was only partially successful because it hurt her, she screamed, and Señor Kosut became frightened and stopped. My pictures bear witness to all this, except for their shouts, though I heard them very well.
What was the attitude of Engineer Enrique Cárdenas at the beginning of the orgy?
He was surprised. Clearly he had been deceived, too. He didn’t know it was an orgy. It was obvious he thought he’d been invited to a social gathering. He found something very different. But in the end, breaking down his initial reserve, he took part. And then he didn’t feel well, perhaps because of the countless alcoholic drinks and lines of blow Señor Kosut persuaded him to consume. He didn’t seem familiar with those practices. In any case, Señor Kosut had to take him to Lima in the chauffeured car that he had hired, because the engineer was in no condition to drive his own automobile.
Why do you keep calling Señor Kosut a swindler, Ceferino?
Because he never paid me the five hundred dollars he was supposed to pay me for my photos. In fact, I never saw him again after that day. At his hotel, the Sheraton, they told me he had checked out without saying where he was going.
And what did you do then, Ceferino, with the photographs of the orgy?
I kept them safe, thinking the swindler would show up one day and pay me for the work he’d hired me to do.
And why, more than two years later, Ceferino, did you decide to reveal to the editor of Exposed that you had those photos?
I was obliged by economic necessity. I’m married, I have three children, and I’m dead broke. One of my children, the youngest, came down with scarlet fever. I urgently needed income because my savings amounted to zero. Just what I said: I didn’t have a goddamn cent left. Then I took those photographs to Señor Rolando Garro, editor of our weekly. And I told him the whole story. Señor Garro said he would study the matter and see what he could do with the pictures. And just a month and a half later, he decided to publish them
(Follow the continuation of the story of the murder in the article by our editor, Julieta Leguizamón, on the following page: “The Hand That Moves the Killers and the Heroic Death of the Founder of Exposed.”)
THE MURDER OF A JOURNALIST AND THE THREAT TO FREEDOM OF EXPRESSION IN PERU
by Julieta Leguizamón
(Editor of Exposed)
There are truths that hurt, and we would prefer them to be lies, but in this extremely serious case we try to present to our public the truth, pure, raw, and hard. Truths have to be said, clenching fists and teeth. And we’re doing that.
Neither I nor anyone else in the editorial offices of Exposed knew that our founder, Rolando Garro—my teacher and my friend—worked for the Doctor and his sinister Intelligence Service. And for this reason, many of the exposés and campaigns of our beloved weekly were not born spontaneously of the journalistic instinct and investigative talent of our reporters, but were ordered and guided by the Doctor himself, from whom Rolando received direct instructions orally. This is confirmed by the secret recordings that we have placed in the hands of the National Prosecutor’s Office and of the Judicial Branch, before whom we have denounced the murder of Rolando Garro by the instigation and order of the Doctor.
Why did Rolando Garro, like so many other journalistic colleagues, agree to receive stipends from the bloodstained hands of the strongman of the Fujimori regime? For an obvious reason, as clear as it is painful: the need to survive. Without the economic assistance of the regime through its Intelligence Service, Exposed and many other journalistic publications would have disappeared because of an absolute lack of advertising, in spite of the fact that some, including ours, enjoyed public favor. The need, the desire to continue to exist, fulfilling his journalistic and civic mission, undoubtedly led Rolando to place himself at the mercy of the sinister strongman of the Fujimori regime, not suspecting that with this sacrifice, which saved the life of the weekly, he would sacrifice his own.
What is this really about? When our colleague, the graphic reporter Ceferino Argüello, told me about the scandalous photographs of Chosica (and then showed them to me), I naturally advised him to take them to our director and editor and explain to him the entire story of the treacherous Kosut. That is what Ceferino did, following my advice. Only afterward did we learn (this is also documented in one of the recordings turned in by me to the authorities) that Rolando Garro quickly showed the photos to the Doctor and asked him for instructions with regard to them. The aforementioned Doctor categorically forbade him to publish or publicize them in Exposed, or attempt with these photographs to exercise any kind of pressure or extortion on Engineer Don Enrique Cárdenas, the main participant in that orgy. The Doctor would explain to me later, in his own voice (see the transcription of the corresponding recording that I turned over to the authorities), that he had forbidden Rolando to do this because he knew that one should not meddle with those more powerful, the rich of Peru, among whom one finds the outstanding and upright mining engineer Don Enrique Cárdenas.
But Rolando Garro did not obey these instructions and tried to coerce (blackmail) Señor Cárdenas, taking him the photos and asking him to invest his money and prestige in Exposed, so that the magazine could improve its content and presentation, and so the publicity agencies, thanks to the good name of Engineer Cárdenas on the board of directors, would take out advertising that would assure its survival. Since Engineer Cárdenas refused to be coerced, he rudely threw Rolando out of his office, threatening to kick him; our founder, seized by one of those rages that tended to overwhelm and blind him, published the special edition of Exposed. Then the Doctor decided to punish him, and had him killed.
(See the transcription of the secret recording I made of the Doctor’s confession to the author of this article, a kind of preventive threat so that she—that is to say, I—would know the possible consequences of disobeying his orders.)
This is the sad story of the tragic death of Rolando Garro, the reason for our public denunciation that covers the pages of Exposed this week, which we have dared to place before the eyes of our readers at the same time that we have presented the corresponding accusation to the authorities, confident that our upstanding judges will determine that the killer of Rolando Garro should be judged and duly sentenced for his calamitous action.
(See, below, how the author of this article, brimming over with audacity and courage, managed to record the compromising confessions of the head of the Intelligence Service, when he met with her in his office or in his secret house on the southern beaches to give her instructions regarding operations to discredit critics or adversaries of the regime, which was the price for the necessary economic assistance offered to us for the existence of this magazine.)
We cannot prove the rest of the story now, but we can deduce and guess it. To invent an alibi for the brutal murder of our founder, those responsible—the Doctor and his thugs—found a poor, sclerotic old man, the retired reciter Juan Peineta, very well known for his longstanding rancor toward and hatred of Rolando Garro, documented by repeated, insistent letters and phone calls attacking him, which he sent to newspapers, radio, and television stations in the belief that Rolando’s criticisms were responsible for his having lost his position on the well-known program The Three Jokers, of América Television, where he had once worked. The Doctor attempted to hide the crime with a slanderous accusation against the veteran practitioner of the ancient art of recitation. This is the true story of the death of Rolando Garro.
Julieta Leguizamón
(Editor of Exposed)
THE SECRET RECORDINGS
(RUNNING RISKS TO SERVE TRUTH AND JUSTICE)
Reporter: Estrellita Santibáñez
Before beginning the interview, I tell our editor, Julieta Leguizamón, that I’m not going to interview her as my boss on the weekly where I work, but with the freedom and boldness with which I would treat any stranger who might be important to current events. And she responds: “Of course, Estrellita. You’ve learned the lesson. Do your duty as a journalist.” With no further preambles, I formulate the first question:
When did you get the idea of carrying a small recorder hidden in your clothes in order to record conversations with that important individual known as the Doctor?
The second time I saw him. The first time, to my great surprise, he confessed to me that Rolando Garro had worked for him and that he wanted Exposed to survive the death of its founder and for me to be the new editor. From then on, I decided to take the risk and record all our conversations.
Did you know what you were exposing yourself to with that decision?
I knew very well. I knew that if he discovered that I carried the small tape recorder between my breasts, he could have me killed, just like Rolando. But I decided to take the risk, because I never trusted him. And, thanks to that, I discovered what I know and what all of Peru knows now, thanks to the courageous support given to me by all the reporters on this weekly and the accusation we have filed with the authorities: that it was the Doctor who ordered the murder of Rolando Garro for having disobeyed him by publishing the photos of the orgy in Chosica. I thanked God the day that he, on his own, without any urging on my part, told me what he had done to our friend and teacher, the founder of Exposed.
And why do you think that the head of the Intelligence Service made so stupid, I mean so serious, a confession, which could have sent him to prison for many years? The Doctor is known for many things except for being stupid, isn’t that so?
I’ve asked myself that very often, Estrellita. I think there were several reasons. Since I had already begun to work for him, and very efficiently, creating the exposés and discrediting campaigns h
What did you feel when you heard the Doctor say that he had ordered the killing of Rolando Garro, whom you loved so dearly?
Terror and panic. As we say in vulgar language, I was shitting with fear, Estrellita, excuse my language. My knees trembled, my heart beat faster, and at the same time, though you won’t believe it, I was seized by a secret happiness. I had found the real killer of Rolando Garro. He was there in front of me. I prayed to God, the Virgin, and all the saints that the recorder had worked well that day. Sometimes, because the tapes were worn or defective, it didn’t, it was difficult to hear, and sometimes it simply didn’t record anything. But heaven heard me, and that day the recording was perfect.