The author of one of the barbaric crimes and with great repercussion in Juazeiro do Norte and in the Cariri region is now at liberty: Evandro Rogério dos Santos, 45, known as “Cabelo do Cão”. In the early hours of March 31, 2009, he killed the homeless person, Geraldo Alves da Silva, dropping a huge stone on the victim’s head while he was sleeping in front of the Banco do Brasil branch.
He was arrested and booked in the act on the day of the crime, but, in a mistake by the prison system, he ended up leaving the public jail in Juazeiro. Hair of the Dog was recaptured playing Carnival on February 14, 2010 in the municipality of Poção (PE). On July 26, 2012, he was tried by the Sentencing Council of the Jury Court and sentenced to 29 years in prison. Geraldo used to say that he owned Banco do Brasil and had mental problems like the accused.
He was a man well known and loved by the BB customers, where he spent most of the time just going out for food, cleaning and a drag on his cigarette. Hair of the Dog’s trial lasted eight hours and he ended up convicted of triple murder. When he was arrested, he said that he had argued with some taxi drivers in Praça Padre Cícero and that he wanted to kill someone, revealing that he had even murdered his ex-wife in Pernambuco.
Here is a chronicle written by Demontier Tenório when he completed one year after Geraldo’s murder:
“The cold wind blows more intensely at dawn and hits Geraldo’s face. He raises his hand, unfolds the duvet and covers it, even because sleep was already knocking on his door. At that moment, the “owner of Banco do Brasil” stopped looking at the movement in front of “his branch” to respond to the invitation in the name of a peaceful sleep as the previous rule was. No worries about the lack of a roof while many were in the comfort of their home and family. It seems like possessions were never his goal.
Geraldo’s pleasure was being there, leaning against his “heritage”, watching the people passing by and puffing on his cigarette, as he had just done for the last time. Before throwing the filter in the middle of the street, he still has the last greeting of a man who asks about the intense cold and he replies: “don’t worry bro. The blanket is good.” He was there ending the wettest month of 2009 and the breeze insisted on not stopping.
The dawn surrenders to complete silence and Geraldo dives in with it without imagining that it would be the last moments of his life. The next day, he would no longer be on his feet to welcome, as he always did, his “clients” in the branch’s ATM sector. In the rush of everyday life, there were few compliments for Geraldo. A behavior that diverged from the tranquility of the nights when many stopped and had moments of prose with that man.
At that point, someone had already guaranteed him food and he was bathed, puffing on his cigarette and watching the hours run by for another night’s sleep. As soon as the movement stopped, Geraldo went in search of the comforter, lay down in front of the door and spread it over his body. The tiredness for another day of “work” took over that man and deep sleep did not take long to arrive. But Geraldo did not imagine that, along with him, the evil of the streets would come to him.
With firm steps, another man approaches who lives roaming the central streets of Juazeiro. He lacked a weapon, but he had the violent instinct of someone who wanted to kill someone. Seeing Geraldo covered from head to toe, that 33-year-old boy, disheveled, ragged and drunk, elected him as if he no longer had the right to live. It didn’t take long for the gun to appear, as, almost to the side, there was a concrete stone guarding the water register in the garden under the access ramp.
The assassin doesn’t think twice and takes the slab in his arms. In the most absurd gesture of coldness, he aims at poor Geraldo’s head, lifts the stone a little higher so that the impact is even greater, and lets go. With the tranquility of someone who has never harmed anyone, he receives the fatal blow and takes his last breath after an impact so strong that he raised his legs as if he still wanted to know what it was about or run to escape death.
When the funeral procession with thousands of cars, motorcycles, bicycles and people headed towards the cemetery, here comes the idea of a last passage in front of Banco do Brasil with the body of that simple man who won the tributes socializing him as if he had been actually the owner of the bank. From the windows, a shower of petals and, on the ramp, where Geraldo slept and was killed that dawn, the employees did not hide their tears and let them roll over their faces in moments of deep sadness and revolt.
Meanwhile, the questions didn’t stop: “who would have done that with such a welcoming and sincere man?”. In a few hours, the police gave the answer: “Evandro Rogério dos Santos, aka “Cabelo do Cão”.