Crimes of August: A Novel

Twenty-four

[264] twenty-four Alone in his bedroom, Vargas slowly removed his clothes and put on the striped pajamas lying on the pillow. Fresh in Vargas’s memory was the humiliated face of his daughter when they left the meeting,arm in arm.Alzira had gone with him to his bedroom to tell him that the cowards had left; those loyal to him were ready to do battle. He had refused to fight. He had asked his daughter to let him go to sleep. Would Alzira one day forgive him for the cowardice of that moment? He finished putting on the pajamas.He deliberately avoided looking at his image reflected in the two large mirrors on the room’s antique armoires. The picture of Christ in one corner,a Sacred Heart by the painter Décio Villares, brought back the fleeting memory of a conversation he had had about the painting with Cardinal Pacelli when he spent two days in the palace, in 1934, a few years before he became Pope Pius XII. He turned out the light and lay down. Morning was slow to arrive.Benjamim came to his room to tell him he had been summoned to testify at Galeão and that Zenóbio had met with the other generals at theWar Department to affirm that in reality the president had not taken a leave of absence but had been deposed. This, too, he had expected. He remembered once again the suffering he had seen on his daughter’s face, thought about his own refusal to fight. Thought about death. He began to cry. Benjamim, who had never seen him weep, not even when they were children, was moved. His hand on his brother’s shoulder, he asked him not to give his enemies that satisfaction.“You’ve gotten out of worse situations.” [265] Benjamim withdrew,and Getúlio lay back down.He thought about Capanema ’s speech in the Chamber defending him against the unjust attacks directed athim.Herememberedwhathehadtoldhisparliamentary leader:he,Getúlio Vargas, president of the Republic, could not abandon his post, could not leave, whether from fear, vanity, or self-interest. He had to stay, in face of the exigencies of the political majority that supported him.But he had,further,a duty to his name.The name of the president was a sacred name.The president was like a king, like a prince. He governed in the name of the monarch of the world, as Bossuet said. And that monarch of the world established that the name of the president had something of the sacred to it. Whoever exercised the presidency of the Republic had the duty, and not merely the right, to defend his name, because that name was not only that of Getúlio Vargas, it was the name of the president of the Republic.The president of the Republic had to honor the dignity inherent in his function, in his office, in his power. He had the duty to defend his name and, in defense of his name, could not resign, because resignation would be to confirm the suspicions. Very early, Inspector Mattos went to the Dr. Eiras Clinic to find out about Alice. “She can’t have visitors,” said an employee at the reception area. “But is she all right?” “Dona Alice is sleeping. Dr. Arnoldo was here today, and she was medicated . Maybe she’ll be able to have visitors soon.” “Is Dr. Arnoldo in the clinic?” “No, he left. He must be seeing other patients.” Lying in bed,his eyes open but not seeing,Vargas imagined how his death would be received by his enemies. His letter, which had been written as a farewell to government and not to life, a rough draft done days before at the request of Maciel Filho, his friend and assistant since the 1930s, could also serve,even better,as a definitive goodbye.The letter,poorly typed,was on the marble top of the bedroom’s small chest of drawers,beside the bathroom door. When the steward Barbosa entered the room to shave him, Vargas was [266] standing, immobile, in the middle of the room, wearing his striped pajamas. The steward asked him to put on a robe, as it was cold.“It doesn’t matter,”he replied. He added that he didn’t want to shave. Barbosa left, and Vargas was once again alone. He would do what must be...