The vet’s mother, after an absence of almost five minutes, came back through the door that led to the consulting rooms and beckoned to him.
“Doctor will see you now,” she said.
“I don’t want to see the Doctor,” Goncalves said. “I just want to see Edson Campos.”
“Then you should have gone to his home. Instead, you chose to come here. That makes it Doctor’s business as much as it does Edson’s.”
“That’s ridiculous,” Goncalves said.
“He’s waiting,” she said.
Goncalves stood up and marched in, ready for a fight.
He didn’t get one.
Doctor Polo was a soft-spoken fellow with unruly hair and friendly eyes. The first words out of his mouth were an apology, but he waited until his mother closed the door before he offered it.
“She thinks she’s helping me,” he said. “I’m a good vet, really I am, but a lot of people visit me once, and never come back. I’m convinced it’s because of her.”
“Why don’t you fire her?”
“Fire her? Ha! My brother would sue me, and my father would send me to jail.”
“Protective of her, are they?”
“Protective?” Polo smiled, but it was a rueful smile. “It has nothing to do with protective. They don’t want her in their hair any more than I want her in mine. If she was out of here, she’d split her time between my brother’s law offices and dad’s chambers. There’s no way either one of them would take that lying down. But enough of my troubles. You want to see Edson, right?”
“Right. Also-”
The vet didn’t let him finish. “I’ll call him in a minute. Chat with me for a while first. I know her. She’s out there waiting for me. She’s going to grill me, and I’ll need some kind of a story to tell. By the way, I’d offer you coffee, but I’d have to ask her to bring it.”
“For God’s sake, don’t.”
“Yeah, that’s what I figured. You were saying?”
“There’s something else you might be able to help me with.”
“Shoot.”
“We’re investigating the kidnapping of Juraci Santos, the Artist’s mother.”
“I sure hope you catch those bastards.”
“We’re doing our best. Now, what I’m going to tell you next is confidential. It mustn’t be spread around.”
“You can count on my discretion. What is it?”
“When they took Juraci, her abductors gave her an injection to knock her out.”
“And?”
“What they used was Ketamine.”
“Ketamine? They used Ketamine on a human being? Are you sure?”
“We found a syringe in her bedroom. It wasn’t entirely empty. We had the contents analyzed.”
“Jesus. I hope those kidnapperes knew what they were doing. Too much and they could have killed her.”
“Do you use it?”
“Every vet does.”
“Where do you get it?”
“We order it online.”
“Only online?”
“Sometimes we get it from the pharmacy on the corner. They overcharge like hell, but they stock it on the off-chance that one of the neighborhood vets will need the stuff on short notice. Why do you want to speak to Edson? Surely you don’t think he had anything to do with the kidnapping?”
“We certainly don’t want to jump to any conclusions, but…”
“What?”
“He has access to Ketamine, and he has a connection to Juraci Santos, so we have to check it out.”
“What kind of connection?”
“Edson’s partner is a talent agent.”
“Tarso Mello. Their dogs are my patients. So what?”
“Tarso represents Cintia Tadesco.”
“And Cintia is the Artist’s girlfriend. You call that a connection?”
“A distant one, but… yes.”
“My father’s brother is a deputado who knows the President of the Republic. Does that mean I’m connected to the President? I don’t think so.”
“I see your point. Try to see mine. Ketamine isn’t an everyday substance-”
“I beg to differ. It is in my world.”
“Which is why we’re looking at someone from your world who might have had a connection to Juraci Santos, no matter how remote.”
“I understand. But you’re wasting your time as far as Edson is concerned.”
“Sure of that, are you?”
“Absolutely sure. He’s been working here for three years. Everybody likes him. He’s kind to people and kind to the animals he treats. He even gets along with my mother. He’d never get involved in anything illegal. Never.”
“A sterling reference, nice to hear…”
“But you’re not convinced. Okay, listen to this: I’m very careful with all of my drugs, but that stuff, Ketamine? I’m even more careful with that. You can use it to get high. Did you know that?”
“I know that. They call it Special K.”
“Right. So I keep my Ketamine under lock and key. It’s a controlled substance, and I’m obligated to do it, but even if it wasn’t, I’d do it anyway. I never give the key to anyone. I have it with me right now.” Doctor Polo took a key ring out of his pocket, separated one of the keys and held it up. “This is it. This is the one.”
“You’ll pardon me, Doctor Polo-”
“Please call me Laerte.”
“-Laerte, but keys can be duplicated, locks picked. Mind you, I’m not accusing Edson of any of those things, but…”
“It isn’t just the lock and key. For controlled substances, I keep a diary of purchase and use. Every time a shipment comes in, I write it down. Personally. Every time I use some of it, I write it down. Personally. I can account for every drop of every controlled substance that’s gone through this clinic.”
“Can I see the diary?”
“Certainly.”
The vet was still holding his keys in his hand. He used one to open a drawer in his desk. Taking out a notebook, he flipped through the pages.
“Here it is,” he said. “Ketamine. Have a look.”
He put the notebook on the desk between them, turned it so that Goncalves could read, and pushed it closer.
Unlike many doctors who treat people, Polo had a fine and very legible hand. Goncalves ran his finger down the column with the dates. The records for the drug went back more than four years.
“How long did you say Edson has been here?”
“Three years.”
Goncalves turned the pages. Each entry was in the same handwriting. Nothing was crossed out or obliterated. Nothing appeared to have been altered. He turned to the last page and checked the final listing.
“It says here,” he said, “you have seven vials on hand.”
“And I do.”
“Would you do me a favor and check?”
The vet stood up, went to a grey cabinet standing in the corner of his office and used his key to open it.
“Here,” he said. “Count them yourself.”
Goncalves did. There were seven. He took one out and examined it.
“Would this be enough to put a human being to sleep?”
“I’m a vet, remember? Not an anesthetist. But I can tell you this: there’s enough Ketamine in that vial to knock out ten medium-sized dogs. If I used it all in one syringe, it would do for a horse.”
“Thank you, Doc-Laerte. I appreciate your cooperation. Could I see Edson now?”
“Certainly. Stay here. I’ll send him in. Then I’ll go try to satisfy my mother’s curiosity.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Goncalves had no preconceived notion of what Mello’s partner might look like, but he certainly didn’t expect what he got.
Edson Campos was a hollow-chested slip of a man with thinning brown hair and a wart on his chin. In a suit and tie, he might have looked at home in a bank; in his light-brown scrubs, he looked like someone trying, unsuccessfully, to look as if he belonged in a veterinary clinic.
Goncalves introduced himself.
Edson’s reaction was immediate.
“Goncalves? My partner told me about you. You’re the one who went to his office and harassed him.”
“Harassed him? He told you I harassed him?”