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he would fold them carefully and bring them to the corporal, bowing. Son of a bitch. Down in the camp, where the tin roofs gleamed and sparkled, the laborers moved about. Like ants. The ones who weren’t blasting the tunnel or shoveling dirt were on their break now, eating their cold lunches.
    â€œI’m trying to do my job, Doña Adriana,” he said suddenly, surprised at the tone of confidentiality. “Three men have disappeared. Their relatives came to file a report. The terrorists may have killed them. Or forced them into their militia. Or taken them hostage. We have to find out what happened. That’s why we’re in Naccos. That’s why this Civil Guard post is here. What else do you think it’s for?”
    Tomás had picked up some pebbles from the ground and was aiming them at the sacks of their fortification. When he hit the target, there was a tiny clanking noise.
    â€œAre you accusing me of something? Is it my fault there are terrorists in the Andes?”
    â€œYou’re one of the last people who saw Demetrio Chanca. You had an argument with him. What’s this about him changing his name? Just give us a clue. Is that too much to ask?”
    The woman snorted again with a stony sound. “I told you what I know. But you don’t believe anything you hear, you think it’s all fairy tales.” She looked directly into Lituma’s face, and he felt her eyes accusing him. “Do you believe anything I told you?”
    â€œI’m trying to, señora. Some people believe in the supernatural and some people don’t. That doesn’t matter now. I only want to find out what happened to the three men. Is Sendero Luminoso in Naccos? It’s better if I know. What happened to those three could happen to anybody. Even you and your husband, Doña Adriana. Haven’t you heard that the terrucos punish corruption? That they whip parasites? Imagine what they’d do to you and Dionisio, who get people drunk for a living. We’re here to protect you, too.”
    Señora Adriana gave a mocking little smile. “If they want to kill us, nobody can stop them.” Her voice was quiet. “The same is true, of course, if they want to execute the two of you. You know I’m right, Corporal. As far as that goes, we’re exactly the same: it’s a miracle we’re all still alive.”
    Tomasito’s hand was raised to aim another pebble, but he did not throw it. He lowered his arm and turned toward the woman. “We prepared a nice welcome for them, señora. We’ll blow up half the hill. Before a single one of them can set foot in the post, there’ll be Senderista fireworks exploding over Naccos.” He winked at Lituma and continued speaking to Doña Adriana. “The corporal isn’t talking to you the way he talks to a suspect. More like a friend. And you should show the same confidence in him.”
    The woman snorted and fanned herself again before she nodded. Raising her hand slowly, she pointed at the succession of snowcapped ridges, peaked or rounded, lead-colored or green, massive and solitary, under the blue dome of the sky.
    â€œAll these hills are full of enemies,” she said softly. “They live inside. Day and night they weave their evil schemes. They do endless harm. That’s why there are so many accidents. Cave-ins in the mines. Trucks that lose their brakes or drive off the road on curves. Boxes of dynamite that explode and blow off legs and heads.”
    She spoke without raising her voice, in a mechanical way, like the litanies in processions or the weeping of professional mourners at wakes.
    â€œIf every bad thing is the work of the devil, then there are no accidents in the world,” Lituma remarked ironically. “Was it Satan who stoned those two French kids to death on the road to Andahuaylas, señora? Those enemies are devils, aren’t they?”
    â€œThey send down huaycos,