came crawling to the door of the bar in middle of the night. A hand held against his abdomen viscera sought out. The man had been stabbed and had no long to live.
The skinny Giménez was the first to rush to his aid. Despite the smell of wine that surrounded it, was one of the few remaining steps could be calculated. Andrada, the owner feared that the attackers were chasing him from entering the bar, to continue with a crime. However
Gimenez, who came to the street, said he did not see anyone. I entered, with the help of Smith, the English pastor preached day and night until he was elbowed remember anything in the bar.
He was taken to the local cuisine, not to stain the wood floor. On the tiles of the room, leaving behind the stranger, and asked him not cease putting pressure on the wound. Giménez
carrying a bag, which this person was carrying when he fell into the door. He threw the man's side and hit the ground, it opened. Andrada, Smith and Giménez own eyes wide opened. Inside the bag was heavy wads of cash.
- are a hundred! - Andrada said.
wounded man was in the background, the three set out to check the bag. Counted about half a million pesos. The moans of the stranger returned his attention to the body to faint.
- call an ambulance? - Asked the pastor.
- you crazy man! What if they take our money? - Andrada said.
- But this is dying - Giménez said.
- Come on, let's take it to the bottom.
's voice command Andrada was immediate. The man complained yet, but Smith hit with a skillet corrected the problem. The blood started coming out in spurts, now that the pressure had ceased to work.
- Quick, quick, dirty me everything - Andrada warned.
went out the back door to a small courtyard filled with crates with empty bottles. Many others, broken, were scattered on the ground. Andrada pulled a shovel and ordered his two clients to dig a well.
of bad win, Giménez began to dig. Smith, meanwhile, prayed a few words on behalf of the unknown. Andrada
announced he was going to drive the drinkers who remained on the premises, under the pretext of attending to the wounded and close the bar, to work in peace.
patio door closed, leaving only the pastor and Giménez, along the owner's dying body and bag full of money.
- Che, have stolen the money from somewhere? - Asked while digging the skinny.
- By stabbed, I guess someone took it. And do not think that someone is alive.
- You say that this is the one that got cheaper?
- I guess.
- Ok, that's it. See if you enter. Is he dead, no?
- Who cares. If not now, I'll be in a while. Dale, help, and we threw the dirt over and we get inside it's cool. We divided the money and move on.
bury the body, taking care to leave the family land with the rest, not noticing what concealed. When they tried to enter, they found the door locked.
- But ... Andrada motherfucker this! We left out!
- So, let me me. Look, if ... Fuck it, seriously, locked!
They called, but without raising his voice too. Feared to wake the neighbors. In the distance, a familiar sound began to approach. It was becoming increasingly strong, intense. When police vehicles parked in front of the bar, the sound of sirens ceased to vibrate in the air.
uniformed officers appeared, without breaking down the door (they had the key) the arrested in the courtyard. No accepted explanation, handcuffed while others stirred the field. The body was not breathing when supported on the ground.
- A few years in jail await you two - said one of the police. Being driven by
inside the bar waiting to find out handcuffed Andrada somewhere, but instead, there was no sign of the old or the bag. They did not need much imagination to realize what happened. I imagined away, laughing like a child.
The night had been a bitter pill to swallow.
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