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By Root 1167 0

of Generalissimo Trujillo guarantees to this Republic. I refer to the fact that until now, your respected and widely read pages have not disclosed something that everyone knows, which is that Senator Agustín Cabral, nicknamed Egghead (for what reason?) was stripped of the Presidency of the Senate when it was determined that he was guilty of irregularities as the Minister of Public Works, a post he occupied until a short while ago. It is also known that because this regime is scrupulous in questions of probity and the use of public funds, an investigative committee to look into apparent mismanagement and collusion—illegal commissions, acquisition of obsolete materials at elevated prices, misleading inflation of budgets, in which the senator would have been involved in the course of his duties as minister—has been named to examine the charges against him.

Doesn’t the Trujillista citizenry have the right to be informed with regard to such serious matters?

Respectfully,

Telésforo Hidalgo Saíno, Engineer

Calle Duarte no. 171

Ciudad Trujillo

“I have to run, Papa,” Senator Cabral heard, and without a single gesture that would belie his apparent calm, he moved the newspaper aside to kiss the girl. “I won’t be on the school bus, I’m staying to play volleyball. Some friends and I will walk home.”

“Be careful at the intersections, Uranita.”

He drank his orange juice and had an unhurried cup of steaming, freshly brewed coffee, but did not taste the mangú or fried cheese or toast with honey. Again he read every word, every syllable, of the letter in “The Public Forum.” It undoubtedly had been fabricated by the Constitutional Sot, a pen pusher who delighted in sneak attacks but only when ordered by the Chief; nobody would dare to write, let alone publish, a letter like this without Trujillo’s authorization. When was the last time he saw him? The day before yesterday, on his walk. He hadn’t been called to walk beside him, the Chief spent the whole time talking to General Román and General Espaillat, but he greeted him with the customary civility. Or did he? He sharpened his memory. Had he noticed a certain hardness in that fixed, intimidating gaze, which seemed to tear through appearances and reach deep into the soul of the person he was scrutinizing? A certain dryness when he responded to his greeting? The beginning of a frown? No, he didn’t remember anything unusual.

The cook asked if he’d be home for lunch. No, only for supper, and he nodded when Aleli suggested the menu. When he heard the official car of the Senate Presidency pulling up to the door of his house, he looked at his watch: exactly eight o’clock. Thanks to Trujillo, he had discovered that time is gold. Like so many others, since his youth he had made the Chief’s obsessions his own: order, exactitude, discipline, perfection. Senator Agustín Cabral had said it in a speech: “Thanks to His Excellency, the Benefactor, we Dominicans have discovered the wonders of punctuality.” Putting on his jacket, he went out to the street: “If I had been dismissed, the official car would not have come for me.” His assistant, Humberto Arenal, an Air Force lieutenant who had never hidden his connections to the SIM, opened the door for him. His official car, with Teodosio at the wheel. His assistant. There was nothing to worry about.

“He never found out why he fell into disgrace?” Urania asks in astonishment.

“Never with any certainty,” Aunt Adelina explains. “There were plenty of suppositions, but that’s all. For years Agustín asked himself what he had done to make Trujillo so angry overnight. And turn a man who had served him his whole life into a pariah.”

Urania observes Marianita’s disbelief as she listens to them.

“They sound like things that happened on another planet, don’t they, Marianita?”

The girl blushes.

“It’s just that it seems so incredible, Aunt Urania. Like something in The Trial, the Orson Welles movie they showed at the Cinema Club. Anthony Perkins is tried and executed, and he never finds out why.”

Manolita has been fanning herself with both hands,