A Brazilian Connection/The Greenhouse

Monday, July 4, 1994. Early in the morning. Lt. Hunter entered the room of a small apartment, downtown Los Angeles. The place is in a mess -- clothes on the floor, food on the coffee table, old newspaper on the couch. Hunter stared at the mess and thought: "Independence Day and I'm here, doing this job. It's drudgery!" There had been a time he really enjoyed his work; but not anymore. He himself couldn't figure out why -- or when -- he had stopped caring about it. Actually, in the past 4 years everything seemed boring -- not only the job, but also the life. With these thoughts in mind, Hunter scurried to the only bedroom in the apartment -- smaller than the front room. There, a young man's body was lying on the floor. The coroner, looking at the body, told Hunter that the guy had been stabbed several times and bled to death. As he was lying on his front with his face towards the ground, Hunter noticed he was wearing a jersey -- number 11, Romário. On one of his pockets, it was found 4 tickets for the 15th World Cup (of soccer), which was being hosted by the USA: 2 tickets for the game Brazil x USA (scheduled for that same day, July 4), at the Stanford Stadium in San Francisco; and 2 tickets for the final, scheduled for July 17, at the Rose Bowl Stadium, in Los Angeles. Hunter found an address, too -- or what seemed to be an address -- "Rua José Roberto Lima, 53". Besides that, he didn't find anything else.

Back to the precinct and with the photos of the body, Hunter (after searching on the Internet) discovered that the jersey the victim was wearing was from the Brazilian national soccer team and the address was written in Portuguese. After 2 weeks investigating to no avail, without any lead or clue, Hunter was almost giving it up. The World Cup had already finished (on July 17), when Brazil defeated Italy and won the tournament. He had even attended the game and talked to some Brazilian cheerers, but nobody had known of the dead guy.

Hunter was tired of working and would like to have some free time to travel. It was when Charlie called him at his office and said:

"I don't believe that there are any local leads. In that case, I suppose, you should do well to travel to Brazil, to Rio de Janeiro. Immediately!"

No sooner had Hunter heard the order than he was at home packing. He loved the idea of traveling to Rio.

"Works for me! I have never been to Rio! Sun, heat, beaches! It's all I need!" Hunter thought.

The following day, Hunter flew to Brazil. As soon as he arrived there, he headed for the beach -- instead of working.

"Why to be in a hurry? Life is too short", he said to himself.

And he realized he wasn't the same man he used to be -- a good cop who cared about the job. "What is happening, for God sake? I'm getting crazy or just lazy? The more he thought, the more he got mixed up. On the beach, Hunter relaxed. Although it was winter, the day was very hot. He stood on the shore and gazed at the beautiful sea; gorgeous women passed by him. But he wasn't enjoying at all. He felt that something -- or *somebody* -- was missing. When Rick returned to the hotel, there was a piece of news waiting for him. That address, found with the dead man, was located neither in Rio nor in São Paulo; it was located in a city in the South of the country. Against his will, he was supposed to leave Rio, rush to the South and do some work. Before leaving, Hunter went to the beach one more time, to see the sea again. It was when something happened, something that would change, later, his whole life. As he was walking along the beach he saw *her*, he saw DeeDee McCall! Rick could barely believe his eyes!

"I'm seeing things, for sure! It's the sun, it's too hot. McCall is in England, married to that guy -- what's his name? It's on the tip of my tongue..."

But Hunter wasn't getting mad -- it was McCall, in the flesh, who was stood still in front of him. She yelled: "Hunter" and hugged and kissed him -- on the cheeks. Hunter, taken aback, hugged and kissed her back. It was the most beautiful dream he had ever dreamed!

"DeeDee, what are you doing here?", he asked.

"I'm... trying having fun... How about you?", said McCall.

"Well, I'm working on a case... a Brazilian guy was killed in Los Angeles and..." he gave her all details. "Then I must go to the South now, where that street is located. By the way, where's your husband... Alex?" Hunter asked.

"Well, Hunter, the thing is: Alex was run down by one of those double-decker red English buses and was injured to death. Anyway, I must confess I wasn't really in love with him".

"That's good!" Rick said, smiling at her.

"Do you think it's good the fact that Alex was killed?"

"No, no, of course not! I didn't mean that. What I want to say is that... now you are free again..."

"Aha..."

Hunter couldn't bring himself to say anything else and changed the subject. He glanced at his watch and invited her to travel with him, to help him out -- like in the good old times.

They left for the South at night. Arriving there after about 1 hour, what a surprise! It was so cold that both Hunter and McCall started shivering as soon as they stepped down from the plane. They were wearing summer clothes, because nobody had told them that in the South the weather was terrible. Besides the cold, it was drizzling. They rushed to the hotel and asked for two bedrooms. Then, they kissed each other goodnight.

The next morning Hunter, McCall and two Brazilian cops went to Avenida João Frederico Secador, 53. Arriving there, they came across a young man, at the door. When the guy saw Hunter, he thought: "Oh my God!!! He looks like an American cop!!!" and immediately he started running. The four cops ran after him, but he vanished altogether in the middle of the heavy traffic. The men kept on searching, while McCall returned to the building and picked the lock, letting herself in. She was with her gun. Suddenly, the runaway guy appeared at the door -- the moron had returned to pick up his car key. It was easy. McCall cuffed him and waited for the other cops. The case had been solved: the murderer had had a discussion with the victim, before leaving for the game in San Francisco. He killed the man (with whom he had just met) because he refused to sell him a ticket for the final game in Los Angeles. After committing the crime, he preferred not to pick up the tickets and returned to Brazil. But he forgot he had given his address to the victim...

The next day, Hunter and McCall decided to go sightseeing. They felt they needed to connect with each other... people had told them that, although the bad weather, the city had beautiful places to visit. Before leaving for the walk, they bought some winter clothes -- coats, gloves, scarves -- in a store near the hotel. Rick and DeeDee visited several places. One of them was a park where they were lucky enough to see the legendary cayman that has been living there for almost 30 years (brought from Pantanal Matogrossense and thrown in the lake, the animal was photographed for the first time just in 1998, taking a sun bath in the bank. Few people believed in its existence...). The couple ended their walk at the Botanical Garden, where there was a beautiful and huge greenhouse. It began snowing -- the first snow in 19 years.