22 - DEAD, BUT NOT SO MUCH..

 22 - DEAD, BUT NOT SO MUCH...

- Come on, Nhá Tiana... tell me again what happened...

- But I already told you, doctor... we went to sleep yesterday at about ten o'clock, more or less...

- And you didn't see him leave...

- No... he didn't get up at night... at least I never saw him...

- Well, from what you told me, you're a heavy sleeper... you don't usually wake up during the night...

- AND...

- And you didn't hear anything...?

- Only when he called me...

- Did you hear anything before?

- No, doctor... I was sleeping....

- But you woke up when he called you...

- Yeah, I woke up...

- He screamed?

-No... he called very softly...

- And yet you woke up...

- Yes, your doctor... who did this to him?

-I don't know... did you notice something... strange... about your husband, when she went to help him?

- Weird? Like this?..

- I don't know... something that wasn't usual....

- Well, he was injured... that's not normal, right?

- No, it really isn't... but... besides... did you notice anything else?

- Actually... I think the eyes...

- What were the eyes?

- It looked like... I don't know... it looked like they were yellow...

- Yellow?! Like this?

- Does it taste like a light from a lamp? that fades away little by little...

- Lamp?!

- Yeah... it was very bright and gradually faded... until he fell next to me...

Duarte was thoughtful... yet another mystery to join the others that rested on his table... but what the hell had happened to Manoel? That was when Alberto pulled him out of his thoughts, making a sign for him to follow him...

- Nhá Tiana, wait here, we need to talk a little more... I'll see what Doctor Alberto needs and I'll be right back...

- Yes, your doctor...

And Duarte went to see his fellow sufferer... did he have any plausible answers to yet another mystery?

- And then, Alberto?

- Let me show you something... because if I tell you, you won't believe...

And the two entered the Morgue. On the table, with his abdomen open, lay Manoel's body, found by his wife dying in front of their house... Alberto was trying to determine what had caused the man's death...

- Boy, what's that smell? Looks like there's a corpse here that's at least a week old...

- The smell comes from Manoel's body...

- But how? It's been five hours at most since he kicked the bucket... there's no way he's already stinking like this...

- I know... you won't believe what I found in his stomach...

- And what was it?

Alberto hands Duarte a small bowl... inside it, at least thirty projectiles, of various calibers... some, with signs that they had been digested...

- You mean he ate lead?

- No, of course not... I'm saying that they simply shot the guy... but it wasn't those bullets that killed him...

- No?

- No. Did you notice that he had no signs of apparent injury?

- Yes... we didn't even know what he had died of...

- Well then... do you know what really killed Manoel?

- End the mystery soon, for God's sake...

- A single bullet... silver!

Duarte looked at the doctor in disbelief. How could he be so sure the man lying there had been shot down with a silver bullet? And who would carry that kind of ammunition? Every thing he had to hear...

- You're kidding me, aren't you?

- I wish I was... but, look... here, near the right shoulder...

Duarte looked. There was sign of a small wound. He looked at the doctor, puzzled. What would a wound on the dead man's shoulder have to do with his passing? He didn't understand...

- Before you ask me... after the guy with the belly already opened, I saw this wound. And I extracted the bullet... and didn't the goat start to show signs of life? Well, as I don't want to know what happened, I put it back where I found it, and it went back to being dead...

- You're making fun of my face...

Without saying anything, Alberto removes the projectile from the wound. Then, the body starts to move on the table, even all cut up as it was... the eyes started to move, as if they wanted to open. Without blinking, Alberto replaces the small piece of metal inside the deceased's body, which immediately returns to the state of rigidity in which it was. Duarte remains silent, his brow furrowed in thought. He can't understand what's going on...

- And then, delegate?

- So what?

- What do I do?

- Uh... write the subject's death certificate...

- And I say he died of what?

- I don't know... invent something...

- Are you sure about that?

- Look, what I'm sure of is that I don't want this guy walking around... me, huh? The problems I have to solve weren't enough... do what you think is best....

And he turned his back on Alberto, heading to his room, where he dismissed the deceased's wife... he had already made his decision and that was the one that the man was dead... in his opinion, of natural causes... only the doctor needed to certify the fact.