As I mentioned earlier, we weren't scheduled to leave the Ferraz Station until the following morning, but with the weather conditions getting worse and worse, this was proving increasingly difficult. In any case, the overnight stay at the station, with or without snow, was already planned. It was therefore necessary to be patient and wait.

     After lunch, where I was the guest of honor, I retired for a nap, which lasted about two and a half hours. I think the admiral inadvertently did the same. Later, around 4:45 pm, we formed a small circle in the living room, in a very relaxed conversation.

     Doctor Ema had fallen ill just after lunch. She had been feeling unwell, with moderate pain, probably of kidney origin. Between two and five in the afternoon, she had been admitted to the ward, receiving intravenous medication and was now feeling better, talking to us in the living room. She was released, but ordered to eat lightly and remain at rest.

     I marveled at her interest in detective stories. She practically steered the conversation towards the topic, calling herself an admirer of the subject. She had heard of me and the Timóteo Arautra and Felipe Torres cases — the latter, the son-in-law of the powerful Nilo Romano, a gambling banker in São Paulo, one of the most famous cases I had investigated, even more famous than the one that had brought me to national prominence, that of Gouveia & Carvalho.

     As the focus of the conversation had shifted to the police field, Inês, who would turn out to be an expert on various subjects, gave us the story of Peary and Cook.

     "A police case, first and foremost!" she started. "Robert Peary, an engineer in the US Navy, claimed that he planted the US flag at the 'top of the world', the geographic North Pole, in April 1909. In addition, when he discovered a crevasse, he launched a probe to measure the depth, which reached almost three thousand meters, giving evidence that the Arctic was only the frozen sea, now proven by submarines that have passed under it."

     The admiral gave his opinion:

     "That's right, the Arctic isn't a continent, it's just an ice cap, unlike Antarctica, which is a continent covered in ice."

     Inês continued the lesson, speaking as if she were in a seminar:

     "Some time later, Doctor Frederick Cook, to everyone's amazement, began to maintain that it was in fact he, in the company of two Eskimos, who had conquered the pole, and this a year before Robert Peary, generating a great deal of controversy in the world press. Who would be telling the truth?

     'Danish committee was formed by National Geographic. They examined the evidence. Cook's were ultimately deemed insufficient. Then, Peary was finally declared the rightful conqueror of the North Pole!"

     I asked :

     "And what about Cook, was he not punished?"

     "No, superintendent, but years later he ended up being arrested for embezzlement. And he died in prison!"

     "As my mother would say, 'He was no bed of roses', then!"

     "Indeed!" she agreed. "But Peary, for his part, may not have been entirely honest either..."

     "Oh no? And why?"

     "I'll explain. Astronomer Dennis Rawlins, studying Peary's notes in 1988, concluded that his sextant measurements actually indicated a point 180 kilometers from the pole. Rawlins claimed that Peary knew this, but preferred to maintain the lie anyway!"

     Ema joined in the conversation:

     "And why did it take them so long to find out?"

     Inês clarified:

     "Peary died in 1920 and all his notes were deposited in the US national archives, only becoming public in 1984. In short, who is with the truth? Cook or Peary. How's that for a challenge, superintendent?"

     "Dear Inês, keep me away from those cold cases! But, according to his account, there seems to be evidence that neither of these two wretches actually reached the North Pole. Since I haven't seen the crime scene, and don't want to, case closed!"

     Despite the laughter, Carlos Eduardo asked Inês if she had ever seen Peary's notes. She answered affirmatively:

     "Yes, I did! It's in a book I'm reading. Would you like to see it?"

     At least I would discover the mystery of Inês: the book 'Antarctica, the Last Land', by 'Ulisses Capozzoli', was her source of information. Inês took the book out of her bag and showed us a picture of Robert Peary's famous notes.

     "Here they are!"

     As the book passed from hand to hand, she commented:

     "Superintendent, did you know that this issue is in the headlines again? It seems that the notes were stolen recently. They say it was a collector who placed the order and that he was Chilean. This collector would already have in his possession a number of historical souvenirs relating to the polar conquests. For example, Robert Falcon Scott's diary. Now for Peary's notes."

     The admiral seemed to know the subject, but he sneered:

     "I've heard of it, but it's all rumor! It's lying news, invented on the internet, all to gain an audience."

     Carlos Eduardo, who was still looking at the photo of the notes, glanced at Ema, covertly placing his index finger over his lips, as if to say 'be quiet' (a gesture I would only come to understand later). That's when Ernani abruptly entered the room, startled:

     "Bad news! Now it's definitive. A storm is approaching the station. In President Frei it has already been snowing heavily for a few hours. The Hercules planes and our helicopter will not be able to take off until further notice."

     "This means..."

     "That means, superintendent, that we may be here a lot longer than the government wants. May God protect us!"

     I froze! And that mystical aspect with which Ernani coated the facts, even though he was a scientist, had the power to scare us even more. Slender, with prominent cheekbones, slightly protruding eyes and a hooked nose, he looked like something out of a horror story. I couldn't help myself and asked:

     "Are we running any risks?"

     Ernani took a deep breath:

     "Everyone, superintendent! Sometimes, even in summer, the station can be covered in snow."

     "What? Don't even joke about it!"

     "It's true! Besides, who can predict what might happen to us in the face of a snowstorm in Antarctica? Neither do I, who am a meteorologist. Here in this region, strange forces are at work. There's something supernatural about this place!"

     I was scared. The admiral couldn't help himself:

     "Basílio, how can a man like you, used to dealing with criminals, be scared like that?"

     "I was dealing with criminals, not natural forces!"

     Ernani seemed to really mean it:

     "Superintendent, things happen in Antarctica that transcend human comprehension!"

     Inês let out a hearty laugh:

     "Stop that, Ernani! You're scaring our good policeman. There's no danger at all! Don't worry, Basílio. We are well protected, we have comfort, room temperature, food, means of communication, we can even watch a movie later in the video room. How about it? There are some good DVDs in the station's collection. Let's keep calm, it's summer, Ernani himself knows, this storm will pass soon."

     "Inês, I'm not taking any chances!" Ernani retorted. "I work with probabilities, but beyond that, I'm a firm believer in these Antarctic ghosts!"

     Inês mocked him once again:

     "Ernani, I can't believe, you must be joking! You can't possibly be that fearful. And there's another thing: in Antarctica everything has a double chance of going wrong, it's one of the most inhospitable environments. It's the nature of the place. That's why there seem to be forces working against it!"

     Ernani's fear was irrational. However, it was Inês' words that really frightened me the most because, contrary to his, they reflected the purest rationality.