| |
After a few minutes, the police officer Andre Cunha entered Deputy Victor Mendonza’s cabinet. By his side was the lean young man that claimed to know something about the so famous kidnapping.
“Here he is, sir.” said the officer.
“Thank you, Cunha, do close the door when you return, ok?”
“Yes, sir.” The man turned around and exited the room.
“Sit down, my boy.” Mendonza gestured the chair before the table.
The young man sat down, nervous.
“What’s your name?” asked the Deputy.
“Henrich.” Answered the lad shyly.
“Well, Henrich, before anything else, I want you to know you’re doing the correct thing and that it’s very important.”
“Yes, sir.”
“I’ve been told you have some information about the kidnapping.”
“Yes, sir. I’m so sorry I didn’t come here sooner, but I was so scared...”
“That doesn’t matter, Henrich. What matters is that you’re here now.” Said the Deputy, attempting to get him more comfortable. “What do you have to say?”
“Well, I think I saw the moment the girl was kidnapped.”
“And why do you say that?”
“I thinks it’s the girl in the newspapers pictures.”
“Right. What did you see exactly?”
“I was at the central square, sitting by the post office staircase, leaning against the handrail. I guess it was about eight o’clock in the morning when I saw the girl walking around there. A black car, I think it’s a Golf, suddenly pulled over. Two men got off the car, grabbed the girl, threw her in the car and took off in a hurry. Looked like those scenes in television action movies.
“I understand, my boy.” Mendonza took on a paternal approach. “And what else did you see? Could you catch the car plate?”
“I’m sorry, only the last three numbers, everything happened so fast!”
“The last three numbers? Great! Could you tell me?”
“7-3-5”.
“Alright.” The Deputy scribbled it down. “Anything else?”
“No. The men wore normal clothes. I thing they were both white. I couldn’t notice much more.”
“How old are you?”
“I’m 18.”
“Very well, one less complication. I’ll take you over to the scrivener, I want you to tell him everything the very same way you told me. He’ll take note and then you’ll sign it down, understood?”
“Yes, sir.”
Upon saying that, Victor Mendonza got up, gently held the young man by his arm e and accompanied him to the scrivener’s cabinet. Right afterwards, he sued an order to contact the National Traffic Department to find out which plates ending in 7-3-5 matched with a car with those characteristics, especially in Rio de Janeiro and the surrounding cities.
