The Old Man Who Read Love Stories Page #3

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Three months old.

Josefina!

Bring me that newspaper!

Not thinking of starting

a revolution, are you?

No, no, no, no.

I just want to read something.

Give it to him.

He wants to read.

That cost me dearly,

Antonio Bolivar.

I had to pretend I was in for

a "quick one".

His Excellency was in a rage

and he charged me double.

Is it sad?

She said that you'd weep

your heart out.

People who really love each other?

Yeah, like nobody ever loved

before.

They suffer a lot, huh?

I just get them, I don't read them.

Is there a happy ending?

- She said you'd like it, okay?

- Okay, okay, okay.

Here's to great suffering

and happy endings.

"Lovers

of the For-got-ten Gar-den".

Clever.

Some mystery just in the title.

"Lovers

of the Forgotten Garden".

"Lovers

of the Forgotten Garden".

Now here is a question. Straight away,

even before the story begins.

This garden has been forgotten

by someone.

The question is,

who forgot this garden?

Not the lovers,

because otherwise

they would not love

this garden so much.

I hope they're lovers of each other

and not just lovers of this garden.

"Paul...

kissed her...

ar-dent-ly...

ar-dent-ly...

while

the

gon...

doo...

layer, gondolier...

looked

the oth-er

way...

and...

the...

gon...

doo-la...

gondoola...

glided peacefully...

down the canals...

of Venice".

"Glided peacefully...

down the canals...

of Venice".

Now let's go back and work out

what that all means.

A canoe!

A canoe is coming!

Must be a lunatic in this rain.

Napoleon Salinas.

Is it that cat again?

What the hell. One less.

Sooner or later he was going

to be a goner.

At least his corpse doesn't stink.

It's not completely stiff either.

What do you make of it,

Mr. Expert, hmm?

Same as your Excellency.

He left here late,

drunk, got caught in the storm,

pulled onto the shore

to see the night out...

and that's when the female

attacked.

He managed to launch his canoe,

and that's where he bled to death.

I'm glad we agree.

So our beast is getting closer.

Yes...

and probably on our side

of the river.

I can't see any reason

to sh*t our pants.

A grief-crazed jaguar is more

dangerous than 20 murderers.

Is that so?

She's scented and tasted

human blood

and in her small animal brain,

we all murdered her babies.

We all smell the same to her.

Vamoose!

I have an inquest to perform.

Mr. Expert

will help me here.

Is your name Napoleon Salinas?

It is? Good. Inquest complete.

In pater sum mea culpa

ex domine... something like that.

That looks like

a gondoola.

Looks nothing like a gondola.

It's not long enough,

there's no prow.

Gondola...

Josefina's getting restless.

Do you know anything about it?

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