Killer Story: A Partial Truth
Chapter 14.3. – Ocumo: A Latin American Novel
Previously: Killer Story: Royal Flush
For the first chapter: Change Is Coming
For Ocumo in paperback: Bookshop.org, Amazon and others
Román glanced at the photograph and then put it back on the table on top of the birth certificate. He turned around and again took a few steps away from the desk.
“The cards are literally on the table,” Maru told herself, proud of her dramaturgic mastery, struggling to hold back a smile of self-satisfaction.
Román and Don Umberto seemed to have entered a sort of trance. Their gaze froze, eyes not blinking for what seemed like an eternity, looking away at nothing, lost into an imaginary distance.
… Silence …
Suddenly, Román took out his phone and Maru, watching him from behind, could guess by the position of his arms that he was holding it with both hands, typing with his thumbs for a long half a minute. He then turned around and gave the phone one last tap with one finger, a motion that told Maru he had just pressed the green button to send a text. After putting the phone back in his pocket, Román walked towards Maru and Don Umberto. He leaned forward, locked eyes with the table and placed both hands on it, pressing down as if to keep it from lifting above the ground. Maru looked at him expectantly. She couldn’t tell exactly what it was or how it happened but she felt something had changed in the past few seconds, in that silence between Román jumping up and coming back to the table. The mood had shifted, turning her excitement and confidence into wariness.
“It’s a killer story …” Román said.
“But?” Maru said.
“But we can’t publish it like that.”
Maru turned to Don Umberto for a second and then looked up again, her body language demanding Román see her eye to eye.
“What do you mean ‘not like that’? … How can we publish it?”
“We need to leave the Church out of it.”
“Out of it? … Gattinelli is part of it, front and center!” Maru said. “Umberto, tell him! The street deserves to know the whole truth.”
… Silence …
Maru turned to Román and then back to Don Umberto.
“Román’s right, Maru,” Don Umberto said. “We can’t touch the priest. We can’t make so many enemies.”
“What?”
“It’s a great scoop, a huge one,” Román said. “But we can’t tell the whole story … only part of it. We can’t tell the whole truth.”
“A partial truth is the same as lying! … This is all bullshit. I’m not reporting this story partially when I have the whole truth … don’t back out now! What happened to going for the jugular?”
“This story is too big, if we piss off the Church we’re going to lose it all,” Don Umberto said. “It’s one of life’s greatest wisdoms; You can go along with the Church or alone without the Church, but never, never, never, nunca, nunca, nunca against the Church.”
“I’d expected this bullshit from Román but not from you, Umberto,” Maru said. “Never thought you’d let money stop you, scare you off and keep you from reporting on the word on the street, sticking it to the man … I guess you too are the man now … not a journalist anymore … you’re a capitalist.”
“Maru, we’re bleeding money here,” Román said. “I don’t even know if we’re going to have enough cash to pay everyone’s salaries by the end of the month. EMLU has turned the banks against us. We can’t add the Church to our list of powerful enemies … we can’t pick a fight with todo el mundo, all at the same time, not now. Don’t be a pinche pendeja!”
“Fuck you, Román!” Maru said, pushing the swivel chair back with her butt and sending it rolling across the floor as she jumped to her feet and pointed her finger at her boss. “You came in here to our house with a speech about transparency, speaking truth to power and making a difference. We were going to bring the truth to light, stop corruption and finally bring democracy to the people. You’re a man of principle, you said. Big words. All air. All bullshit! The pinche pendejo here is you!”
“We need Gattinelli on our side,” Román said.
“You need him to get to Power,” Maru said, going back and forth pointing at Román and Don Umberto. “You’re going to pact with the Devil so you and Sonia Elena can grab The Power … Power, money is what matters to you, not the truth, not democracy, not the people on the street.”
Just as furious and disappointed, Maru was also embarrassed by the thought that she would have to go back to Josefa Trujillo and tell her source they weren’t going to publish the story. After all her promises and emotional interviews, La Calle wanted only part of the story and Maru couldn’t accept that so she wouldn’t report any of it. Not telling the whole story would betray her journalistic integrity, Maru’s most precious possession. She would have to explain that to Josefa and apologize for not delivering what she had promised her. Now she had become another disappointment in Josefa’s life, another person that deceived the poor woman and didn’t live up to her word.
“You’re just like everyone else … you call them jokers, farceurs, comedians,” Maru said. “You two are no better than anyone else … jokers, farceurs, comedians, that’s what you two are.”
She went for the door and, just before walking through it, turned around to face Román and Don Umberto one last time.
“You’re a couple of pussies too,” she said, grabbed her crotch with one hand and pointed at the men with the other. “I got bigger balls than you two combined. Fuck you!”
Next >> Historia Universal: Holy Thursday
For all chapters: Archive
Ocumo is available in paperback on Bookshop.org, Amazon and others
Copyright © Mel Páez, 2026