When he saw Gaspar enter the guesthouse, Stephen was getting ready to meet with Tali the next day. The members of the Order believed Adolfo’s daughter had committed suicide by drowning in the river after Juan’s death. Her own father had identified the body. It belonged to a different woman, but in his drunkenness he couldn’t have distinguished a woman from a deer. Tali had managed the confusion in part thanks to the Hand of Glory she inherited from Rosario. Eddie’s hand, my brother’s, thought Stephen. Well, if it lets Tali live “clandestinely,” as she calls it, then it’s a good thing. It had been hard for her to leave the house and temple behind, but she had trusted people who took care of them, and she’d taken all the valuable relics with her. She lived nearby, but in a more conventional place. Mercedes, who doubted that death because distrust was her nature, would never look for Tali. About time that Indian fucked off, she’d say.

Stephen went ahead with his plan. He crossed the park and entered Mercedes’ office, where she had prepared the accounts and the errands he would have to take care of. Sometimes some other member of the Order went with him, or even Adolfo Reyes himself, who got terribly bored and wanted to spend some time in Buenos Aires on occasion. Mercedes was wearing her mask and sunglasses: she looked like a murderous insect. She was also pretty easy to fool, because she was lazy. Stephen had started the transfer of property to Gaspar years ago. He didn’t need Mercedes’ signature, Adolfo’s would suffice. And Adolfo, who was always drunk, would sign anything. The house was no longer hers alone. All her money was in Uruguayan and British banks, safe from Argentina’s financial disaster, but that wasn’t under his purview. There were accountants and lawyers everywhere. But he’d made it so that changing the ownership of the companies, the yerbatal, and the real estate would be much easier when the time came. They didn’t even need to die first. They had bequeathed everything in life—they were elderly, so it was logical to pass things on to the young grandson. No one had seen them for a long time, and when Stephen went to meetings, he was clear about Adolfo Reyes’ alcoholism and Mercedes’ insanity. Gaspar’s absence was a relief for the lawyers and accountants and managers, who imagined a young playboy capable of ruining everything. The decision to entrust Stephen to manage part of the fortune stemmed from Mercedes’ enormous distrust of the living members of her family, who weren’t many. She preferred to put someone from the Order in charge. Florence didn’t share that paranoia, but neither did she meddle in other people’s affairs. She didn’t care about Mercedes’ empire. Florence thought they were indestructible in earthly matters, that the families’ power and influence were impossible to take down for reasons that had nothing to do with putting on a suit and spending hours in banks and offices. In short, she thought Steven’s work was useless and she didn’t interfere.