Home / Argentina / Transvestic in Río Gallegos: a hate crime in the city of power

Transvestic in Río Gallegos: a hate crime in the city of power

The night at the end of the world has cold war names. Antrumen where the patagonia moves to the rhythm of bachata is called Cuba. The other, where they switch with Latin pop movements, is Russia. At midnight on a Friday in August, the tables are almost empty. The chairs in red leather lined, tuned. In the bar, two girls mix unfathomable colored spirits in liters of glasses. A group of children take long drinks and laugh at the table facing the street. It is early for the night in Rio Gallegos, Russia comes close to three in the morning. At this time, "in the past" burns in the heated houses of the city. Towards the bottom, the empty track. On that track, the cutest transvestite who walked on this border ruled the capital Santa Cruz province at its last night . In that field, she is seen by the security videos that are now part of a legal file alternative with the staff and with the habits, she always plays so that her hair naturally falls to the side of the sculpted body. On the morning of September 6, 201

5, Marcela Chocobar, 26 years old, in her transformation spell, someone murdered her with hatred. By Marcela, they only found their skull perfectly cut between the second and third vertebrae without soft tissue because the killer wanted to remove with a cutting element all human trace to what was a beautiful face. A little further, in a spare part in the eastern San Benito area, wrapped in a black construction nylon, they found a small chain, a black dress, a black jacket, a white buccaneer cut at the height of the knee and the long blonde hair by Marcela Chocobar.

First, the silence of the disappearance. The discovery took 15 days. In the afternoon of 6 Sunday, the sisters began to worry . Chocobar is a clan: they came from Oran, Salta, devoted to Urkupiña's virgin and willing to make a difference in cleaning, as much as possible, one by one. They are immigrants in a city of immigrants. Rio Gallegos is one of the places where the child who is born and raised has less than 30. In the days of this investigation is a hotbed of marches and protests, strikes and batucadas. In each corner stands a demonstration that almost always complains about the lack of wage setting. Even in the court where they investigate Marcela Chocobar's crime, the employees do not participate because they did not see a weight of the bonus. The Chocobar sisters have a superior battle. Although they charged three men in jail in April, they do not believe the horror can be explained so easily: is convinced that the two guys who raised their sister that night at the door of Russia, climber Oscar Biott and his friend Angel Azzolini, was just instrument of something worse, of an evil whose existence would only be explained if it comes from power.

In childhood, pain and race are usually the usual place. Discrimination, abuse, abuse and expulsion from home, the foreseeable way. Marcela Chocobar was born among women, and this string of sisters around her girl's body dressed in her own shine, rescued her. In Mateo Ríos, his elementary school, they called him fagot, nenita, puto . The friends in the neighborhood, in the Aeroparque area, loved her. Sometimes the boys locked her in a dark alley, in order to trick her, to touch her. At the same time they broke her, they wanted her. The father, a worker of a mill with orange trees, did not say much. He was always a man inside, and he preferred to sleep in the country. It cost my mother more: but the girls convinced her. Eduardo was born and wanted to be a woman. There was nothing wrong with that. It must be adopted. Over the years, it was no longer unusual for him to play with all the tacos and rags. It was a girl

until she met "Pepi", another transvestite hair like her, and they went together on the night of the dance . Adjusted, light, ruled in the local dancer, the same place where nearly ten years later returned to the premiere of new pieces. It can be seen in jeans and a top that makes a fun laugh in front of a wall of heavenly shadows, where Tropicalisima is read, which is painted for her. Pepi prostitutes himself; She also began to charge for dabbling with the village men. He met a much older man and became a girlfriend. He visited her in the family home, she visited his. He was a changuero in the El Tacabal sugar factory. But she did not stop attending any customers who wanted her. "I was born to be a hear," she told Gabi, one of her older sisters, a little to provoke, another little because she wanted to convince her that she would make the traditional way of a trans-poor girl from the north: prostitute herself to seek economic success that gave him a new body, identity . And on the road, enjoyment. The sisters say she did not hesitate to accept the invitation to leave the village to work in the south. "I'm for more," he told them, and he left a boyfriend and spent in Oran.

During the first months of Natalia Avalos, the family lawyer, all the hypotheses fell from her hands. The researchers first thought of a crazy customer. Then in revenge for a father-in-law to Marcela, imprisoned to distribute the weapons in a Union uprising in UOCRA that ended the shot a few years ago. It was the Persian's turn: a group of Bolivian and Peruvian immigrants owners of a Renault nine red as the one recorded by Russian cameras. They were arrested, they had trouble and they had to be released because the car was not the car. There were about 60 similar in the whole region. They had passed their noses near the real, but it was with the engine unarmed without seating.

In April last year, a young man wanted to buy Renault from Azzolini who had gone as if to get rid of it: he had put it in sales. Father. The man, an old Peronist pointer, committed the slip. When asked if the car was with paper in order, he inexplicably replied, "Yes, we sell it because it became the object of the crime of mockery". Although it was one of the Renault 9 in the crosshairs, the car had never been "raided". Real estate properties are smooth; The cars, in any case, are seized, kidnapped, evaluated, reviewed. Azzolini's father had some idea that Marcela Chocobar had been transferred to that car on the day he disappeared. Sometimes, in a complicated case like this, an unthinkable event occurs, a small act that twists fate. The young buyer in the car could have been quiet, but no. He told the father's comment, and he sent him to report it to the police. The changed investigation.

A police from the province asking not to be identified says that a buchon heard Angel speak in a bar. He said a friend of her "sent them with fucking". Anyway, the court intervened Azzolini's phone. The car was hijacked and began a long experience, where the shooting of that night at Russia's door was compared with the color, weight, size and shape of the lamps in the vehicle where they worked from the Airport Security Police (PSA)) to researchers of Conicet. At the sites, a court investigator who also requests anonymity did not find traces of Marcela. The listeners took Azzolini to Oscar Biott, with whom they shared a cabin on Avenida Gregores. Biott was a rock climber and gave a popular course at the Provincial High Performance Sports Center (Cepard) twice a week. The cottage, a small wooden house in a row next to two similar, belongs to a huge property, the construction group Kank & Costilla, known in Río Gallegos because it is owned by Martín Báez, son of the linked businessman al kirchnerismo Lázaro Báez . The data was never relevant to Rosana Suárez, from Court No 3. It always seemed like a detail. Even when the most powerful technical evidence of the cause is the expertise discovered by Oscar Biot's DNA at the back of the black bag Marcela Chocobar.

About eight years ago, Marcela took an eternal collective that left her in the terminal of Río Gallegos. Behind the terminal was Las Casitas, the classic brothel quarter where most of the city's men began and practiced paid sex until it was closed due to allegations of human trafficking by former archbishop Jorge Bergoglio, today Pope Francis, through Cooperativa La Alameda. Even though Marcela initially worked on taking care of her nephew, she soon got a job in one of these cabarets, the one responsible for a transvestite of the old guard "Cassandra". But his sisters were in cleaning companies that provided services to the provincial state and got him a place in the Guatemala school. He became "the doorman". Cassandra's cabaret was full of short skirts and tacos; to the school "travestido de hombre", joke Giuliana, a friend who knows her ever since. Giuliana started to hormone well already after 30 years. She was a militant in a campaign of justice and later she succeeded as a municipal employee. She doesn't prostitute herself, she says, with Marcela sharing only the night. He used to go to the lupan, because his aunt's trance also worked there. Some chips were played to the pool. "I saw them suffer from Cassandra, I saw that they participated in customers who brought a bad smell, men who did not like them, they had to go in. Those who came to fill a place had to spend three months unlocked to make passports ".

In Gallegos, the night was once the worldly sound of pools and bars as those who visited the men imprisoned for Marcela's crimes, nightclubs such as "Cuba" and "Russia", by more nac and pop clubs such as "La Grotta." And "Las Casitas" was integrated into the ecosystem to shake its head on Saturday nights to fight just such a night: in the winter the sun falls at four in the afternoon and comes out again at noon. A mayor thought to order the closure of the clubs at six in the morning. Those who wanted to follow it – the time left – were sent to the cabarets who were officiated after hours . In the city there are no parks, few squares, few trees and almost no green, the wind when it does not stop and pulls it as it finds, especially sand, a sand that rages on the skin and in the eyes, a damn sand as it unlocks the locals in their homes and leaving them small and watching the entertainment in the night. Cultural life is limited to clubs, groups of immigrants and who sometimes come from Buenos Aires to the casino or to Bailanta. Antonio Rios played the weekend that killed Marcela and tied her to the exit of a street fight.

Delfina was already a class teacher and a blonde with new curves when he saw her come in with the bucket and rags to clean Classroom at the Guatemala school. The sissy and straight hair had a future, he thought . They switched oblique gaze until the first call came out. And the man Eduardo went to the less defined "Choco", "La Choco", which was the beginning of a sustainable, unstoppable transformation. Almost simultaneously, "Choco" struggled to finish primary school: he was in the seventh, eighth and ninth classes of the night school in the same school. Monica Enríquez, a cute and elegant lady who decided to finish school after retirement, recalls her fringe, quiet, self-conscious of those who looked at her, always alone in the second line, just a smile of sympathy as she blinked at him . Until he was asked to ask, "Can I sit next to him?" He was soon forced to do group work and invited her to his house. They became friends without understanding it, between buddies and biscuits. She told her about her dream of changing body and about the female hormones she had taken since she met Delfina.

Mónica knew her by working as a children's father for her nephew, in a copier – "ya más mujercita". And he witnessed the refinement of the functions, the voice, the reinforcement of the nails, the hair, the lack of beauty, the man of the body returning before the appearance of his new identity. One day he told his new name. Marcela, Marcela Estefanía Chocobar. Then, before the Gender Identity Act dreamed of the document. It was with Delfina to process it. Delfina was the guide I needed for that road. Each trans is allowed to mature by a more experienced. Even in the Australian border, Marcela had her May, as they say in Salta street to those who initiate dozens of girls, often replicating the logic of exploitation of the ancient violons, but between false gems and makeup. That was not the case with Delfina. In it he had a friend who encouraged freedom and autonomy. Soon he went in with her. She lied to her sisters: she told them she was going to live with a boyfriend.

On August 10, the day when Urkupiña's maiden, her sister Laura, where Marcela Chocobar lived when she arrived. Río Gallegos, filled with black flies in the middle of winter. Devotees, Chocobar cannot avoid believing, reading the signs that mark their way. Gabriela lives in two small pieces, which order and cleanliness makes her look bigger. There, he usually prays to his dead sister, especially since that morning, fifteen days after his disappearance, when a conversation warned them of the discovery of a skull and some women's clothes. At that time he dreamed that he would come to his room in the back of that house to say goodbye.

-You will always say goodbye to me then, "Gabriela told.

" You are never here, "complained Marcela. 19659006] Gabi saw her go down a dirt road. Behind Marcela was a white car with tinted windows , a man on the wheel and the music felt full. "Be careful, darling," said her older sister.

Marcela waved a hand and wobbled lost in the dump.

After a year Gabriela holds the invisible tie with his sister in the prayer to the virgin, in the dreams, in the conversations that the family so often does to a witch. The woman told them that Marcela was in a lonely cottage that was in the hands of a man who wanted to escape but could not And every time Marcela's joke shakes her, she's questioned again.

– Last year I felt I could have taken better care of her. I don't know what she did: she swore to me and assured me she didn't was in danger. I told him: "Wherefore mindful, if you say they are people who handle themselves with power, they can do something for you. "

In the pictures he himself uploaded to his Facebook, Angel Azzolini is a bad boy. Moreno, with long hair tied in ponytail, in one of them pose staring at the camera with a katana in her hands, like a samurai. In the other you have a knife that you can also cut a head on. The pictures disturbed Judge Rosana Suárez and her investigator. Since his car was discovered, Morocho and his two best friends had them in their sights. He, Oscar Biott and Adrián Fioramonti, who did not live with them but used to smoke marijuana, share beer, let the patagonian time go faster. Fioramonti was arrested, but later liberated for lack of merit: he considered that the night of the crime was with his wife, employed by the court in Santa Cruz province . Azzolini and Biott were charged with simple murder. The day when the crime was celebrated, the Chocobar family, together with the human rights secretary of Santa Cruz province, met Horacio Pietragalla, with Judge Suárez: they asked him to cover the case as femicide. Suarez refused.

Ángel Azzolini worked as a municipal employee in the area Ornamentaciones, the father was the leader of a basic neighborhood. He and Oscar Biott had intervened mobile phones: they kept in touch even though Angel had left the place where they lived for a year and a half, Martín Baez's cottage . It was Fioramonti, who later explained that he heard them say a phrase that warned them more than Japanese weapons: "Che, there is no news about the missing dog."

Sitting in the bureaucratic chair at the courts of Río Gallegos, hearing of The small space in the office, wearing a large jeans, with hard-cut hair, shiny, haggard, looks like a boy unguarded. The size, the back of the back, the hanging shoulders, says nothing about the warrior's attitude of the face's photos. The experts controlled the katana and the knife and in them there are no traces of blood or DNA. It is logical to think that if he used them, he cleaned them . What keeps him prosecuted for simple murders and covers – at the same time – is his own statement of inquiry. And the detailed study of the red car where they lifted Marcela that night. Angel Azzolini is the cornerstone of the accusation in the Chocobar case. Not even his own defender understands why this neighborhood, the battles of life, a fumble more of Rio Gallegos, sank into the guilty swamps without anyone asking him. But he did. And that's why he can spend the next 25 years in prison.

– My mother was a missing woman.

She tries to summarize her childhood steps from the Las Casitas cabaret, where she lived with her until she was twelve years old. 19659006] – With my mother we were poor. At the age of eight he went out to sell empanadas, sweet things, rolled, were in front of and sell anything. She lived by staying in wood with what she found. He had other children, a girl of 14, whose father was erased. A boy with 13, whose father took over but later ended up in his own butcher.

Angel Azzolini was rescued by his biological father. He reached rent when the child was 12. He arrived at 18 with enough tools to go to work: Like many others in Río Gallegos, contact with politics made him a municipal employee. Three years ago, they told him that his mother was a serious hospital. She had become pregnant again and had a cardiac arrest during the caesarean section. The angel arrived at the hospital just as they were looking for a family member who wanted to dress in the body. He did it. And then he held his mother's coffin to the grave.

He soon met Oscar Biott, the climber.

The body already intervened by Delfina was an incentive for Marcela. He wanted a tail like his friend's. And he called for the nose of a movie actress; I was looking for it in newspapers . The way was clear, Delfina defines it with a trans world maxim: "first you have to queue, because the tail gives you the tits, the tail and the tits give the nose and everything together gives you the face" . The formula summarizes the growing market value of an exuberant body that enters the paid sex circle loads for its attributes as it gets them, each at its price. For the tail, it had to take from Tucumán to a trans dedicated to injecting silicone on request, inexorably. Delfina took care that during the fifteen days where they would spend their time lying gently avoiding the silicone spreading, the troubled Marcela would not go up. If it had been for her, she would leave the street a few days later.

The Lola were an investment made directly in Tucumán: they traveled together to spend their holidays and a doctor drove it before Christmas . At Carnival I would visit Oran, premiered at Tropicalísima. The pictures show her in several family scenes, surrounded by her mother and niches, with carnival flour sprayed on her face. Only the nose was missing. He returned to Río Gallegos with the assurance that his interest had gone up. And immediately, Facebook, his WhatsApp, his mobile phone, never sounded like that: 40 minutes of shifts. Customers multiplied. He also started working during the day. He soon saved what was necessary for his nose. He decided to have surgery with a doctor known among the trance, in Rosario. He returned to Gallegos in June; she couldn't stop anymore.

Delfina sent her into her assault to private parties where she could make more money than with an individual client. Sometimes they did it in pairs, with Cindy Morena. A blonde, the other brunette. Marcela opened another face, like Estefi. Digital marketing also helped.

-I was home or went to party, sometimes with more than one client, Delfina says. It was by number of people and time. Forty minutes, 600 pesos. It was once they were with 24 men. They were eight thousand pesos for the two . When I went to these places I got the contact, the car's driving license and the place. I took care that they were good, that it wasn't risky. They were football clubs, companies, everything. In recent months, his strong client was a politician, but he was not one of Baez, but a politician.

-A biot, I met him by a WhatsApp group who organized themselves to shit with laughter. That day I took marijuana.

Ángel Azzolini says everything like someone talking to a friend. It doesn't seem to be limited, to be self-conscious. He admits that Oscar Biott impressed him as a good child because he had "had another life in everything" to his. Biott told him he had finished high school, that he had a brother, a mother he loved and struggled with, that he had spent a year in the army and that he had done three years of law school. He told us he had a girl in Caleta Olivia, where he was from. But what told him most is how Oscar talked about his passion for extreme sports: kayaking rides through fast-flowing rivers, paragliding, climbing the edges of the mountains.

On his Facebook wall, Biott built a diaphanous image of himself. There the heavens abound with powerful suns that come from infinity and cross the clouds. sunset, mountains, phrases of the new age limit . And another message in the date after the crime where he seems to leave a past that plagues him. Nothing like a katana or a ceremonial knife. Those who know him for his life as a climber have seen him lead a group on the hill near Laguna Azul, a bit from El Chaltén. A young and relaxed tourist crossing him at a campsite the night before a climb describes him as a guy full of holistic phrases but at the same time aggressive to send those who followed him, a strong hand in the climb and be able to take a liter of whiskey during the night and Almost without sleep, a walk goes to the heights. Surprised by the news of his arrest, by the brutality of the crime, he thinks rude: "It is strange that the same person who could have killed on such a horrible path was the one who climbed the mountain and assured us the life we ​​came back to , because it was Oscar who stuck the stick to tie the rope that the others grabbed us to climb on, which was due to the lives of everyone else. "

A certain cheeky state recognizes Angel Azzolini, who blames him, his main speaker in right case. When Biott saw that piece invaded by a plague of cockroaches where Angel lived, he offered to share the cabin. You only pay for food costs, he said. It was not a bad deal given that he only had one computer and "some buckets of everything to scale, nothing more". On the other hand, the municipality with a fixed salary that was Azzolini had a refrigerator, a table, chairs, a mattress two places, a wardrobe / closet, a bed: a whole happiness next to his friend embraced nature as all capitals. It was good that none of them had to pay rent for the small house on Avenida Gregores because of Kank y Costilla.

-Baez lent it to Biott. Then they already had a good friendship . Biott taught him on a wall in Cepard's gym. One round they had organized a trip to the Blue Lagoon to teach him how to climb. Biott also taught me, but I leave for politics, to help my dad in the basic unit. What we never stopped doing goes out together at night. With Biott I started to feel the night of Río Gallegos.

On Saturday, Ángel Azzolini had worked but asked sincerely because it was the birthday of his friend Oscar. Even though none of them had a weight, Oscar had promised to get something for the drinks. Angel remembers that that night, about ten o'clock, a friend of Biott went to leave him money for a changa that he did in a prefabricated house. His name was Lucas and he was an accountant. He left about 500 pesos, he says. With that they went out to buy something to eat and a bottle of tequila. In the cabinets of the cottage they had set up a marijuana plantation, but it was early to harvest, it had not yet blossomed. Around midnight they went around the car in La Ría. A child told them that they could get faso at the door of a school, EG19, but when they arrived, there was a matinee and the police were guarded. They passed by.

Azzolini, who sat in the courtroom, says they were in Bola8, a pool of six tables at Néstor Kirchner Avenue, led by its owner, A sixty who also prepares well complete loins and other classic minutes. In his statement to the police, he said they were in Nautilus. Nautilus climbs from the avenue through a staircase to a first floor, where the pounding of billiard balls at the bottom of a worn cumbia. There they call "manyines" who appreciate the game, beer and faso, the odd one with a file, more than a newly launched thief, prostitutes who spend their fifties.

– What clothes did Biott take that night? 19659006] -Biott had a brown jacket, a shirt, shoes.

In the pool, Azzolini says, they met another friend of Oscar Biott, José Ramón Lazza, a dreadlocked and gray-haired hippie with whom they had climbed mountains. With him, several chips were played, they took more than three beers and decided to return to the cottage to listen to music. "Everything, less cumbia, I hate her," says Angel in his framing.

Biott told Lazza to stay at night. He was an older man, says Angel. Nearly half past five, the two left again towards La Ría. When they were in the car drinking from the bottle, after six o'clock, Oscar Biott told him:

-The light goes to Russia that is about to go.

On the runway in Russia, the temperature of the Saturday was tropical. Outside, the short, but accurate, wind rays that came from La Ria hit the vacant river bank on the side of the city. Ría was the place the couples chose to install the cars one kilometer further down, in villa cariño. Ría is the way to name Río Gallego's estuary from the locals, streams running towards the sea without producing either vegetation or beach on the road, just the stone surrounding all of this in the south; and the birds that choose the estuary, because its water is low and where the food grows: the southern oyster catcher, espartillero, maca, the chef's gull, escu, the imperial cormorant, the gray plow

When Marcela Chocobar and her friend Cindy Morena crossed the door of Russia The southern cold hit them: 0.4 degrees. They walked together to the sidewalk. Bowling DJ suggested that he take her home with Cindy, as he had done the night before. Marcela told him that she preferred to continue working. Cindy walked away in his friend's car. Marcela went on her long white white boots to the corner. She let several cars from where she was the piropeaban past. When the red Renault 9 stood by her side she listened and after a few seconds she went up.

-I've never seen her before. We passed once. She looked like a woman in pint, well dressed. She had a black dress and black or white boots and a handbag.

The memory of Ángel Azzolini progresses quickly for the decisive night, but he stays in some surprising details that he remembers as if it had been yesterday even though a year has gone dialogue before entering the car, for example, but then they had taken almost a liter of tequila plus all the beer they could in the pool.

-Baa the glass, talk to him-Oscar said.

Angel He says he is shy, that he did not give him to meet.

-Help, which bonbon you are. Should We Celebrate My Birthday?

First, Azzolini said, Marcela refused, but immediately came into the car . There are two confirmations of Azzolini that are not close to anyone, either for the investigators, neither for the family nor for anyone who has known Marcela. Azzolini swears that he and his friend Biott did not know, did not realize that Marcela was transsexual, and that they did not know she was a prostitute


According to its version, the car was negotiated above.

] I'll pay you two thousand.

-No, I will not be with them both, I will be with one.

-Have you hold me? Voy a buscar la plata y los forros.

—¿A dónde vamos a ir?

—Vamos a mi casa y ahí vemos.

" ", dictated by Angel Azzolini, which is now tested by the Biott, continually and by the decidido silencio. En relato él entró en la cabaña y en el auto quedaron Marcela y Biott. Biot entró, buscó algo entre su ropa, y volvió a salir. Azzolini pensó, ¿bajarán? Y se preguntó sella sabro de la cabaña había untercer hombre, Lazza, de la rastas que dormía en la habitación. Entonces escuchó gritos, de los dos. See paro y fue a la puerta, then a pequeño garage its techo and el biot habia metido el car. Per se estaban yendo, pensó que "a dar una vuelta". Se tiró en un puff, su cama estaba ocupada por el hippie. Se durmió.

Desde que Marcela regresó de Rosario con su nariz respingada, el rostro adelgazado por el efecto anguloso que le daba a sus pómulos, el pelo cada vez más largo y más rubio, todo fue vertiginoso. Y cada una de sus hermanas, y de sus amigas, vieron cómo el cambio la volvía un tanto más esquiva, más misteriosa y más ambiciosa. La naif Marcela que pensaba en cómo arreglárselas para algún día ser madre iba desapareciendo tras la exuberancia de su cuerpo nuevo y la intensidad de su trabajo: no tenía tiempo para dar más turnos, su agenda se llenaba de pedidos. En la causa judicial por su homicidio, la mitad de uno de los 25 cuerpos de cien fojas que tiene el expediente está lleno de teléfonos de sus clientes, eran muchos. Durante los últimos meses también hacía viajes para trabajar con clientes que la querían en otras ciudades. Estuvo en Río Grande, en Ushuaia y al menos dos veces en Calafate.

Su ex compañera de colegio, Mónica, la vio para el día del amigo de ese invierno. Se había acostumbrado que cuando Marcela recibía un mensaje de cualquier hombre lo comentara, contara las pavadas que le decían, cómo la seducían para que fuera a un encuentro. Se reían juntas de esa otra vida que llevaba. "Para julio ya se reservaba algunas cosas. Se quedaba callada de pronto. A mí me dio la impresión de que estaba preocupada por algo", dice Mónica.

—Tengo ganas de poner una peluquería Ami —le dijo a Mónica—. ¡O un spa! Tengo un amigo que es contador que puede ser mi socio.

—Tené cuidado Choco, a medias no sirven las cosas —le advirtió Mónica.

Al rato vio que recibía un mensaje, lo miraba y guardaba el celular.

—Chicas, me tengo que ir —les dijo a las amigas que festejaban el cumple.

—Choco, no te vayas así —le pidieron.

—Pero antes hagamos una foto, las tres para el recuerdo.

Las hermanas Chocobar son del color de la tierra salteña y tienen esos ojos grandes y negros, expresivos, como los de Marcela. Ninguna de ellas se cuida en las comidas, son robustas y es posible imaginar que si quieren, de un solo zarpazo bajan a un enemigo fiero. Han trabajado desde niñas como empleadas domésticas en Orán, y ahora cumplen turnos en las empresas de limpieza que las tienen como empleadas destacadas. Cada una de ellas tiene su propia personalidad. Gabriela, que vive sola y no tiene hijos, es la más espiritual. Laura, la madre de varios nenes que eran los mimados de Marcela, a quienes cuidó desde bebés, es la más verborrágica y suele dar las entrevistas en los medios locales. Edith es una de las más calladas. Judith es la más terrenal, y la que concentra toda la información judicial con una memoria prodigiosa. Es la que lleva la relación con la abogada Avalos y con el juzgado. Todas cocinan unas empanadas deliciosas. Y tienen un humor inteligente con el que combaten las lágrimas que a menudo les surcan el rostro norteño.

Cada una tenía una relación profunda con su hermana muerta. Cada una tenía conversaciones cotidianas con Marcela. Se llamaban. Se visitaban. La cuidaban como la menor que era. Y cada una le advirtió que no fuera tan confiada, que sospechara de los hombres. Todas eran conscientes de la discriminación, de la transfobia, de la violencia solapada en los juegos de seducción. "Cuando le decíamos que tuviera cuidado ella decía, nada me va a pasar chicas. Quién va a querer matar a un puto, nadie se va a querer manchar las manos. A una mujer sí, a mí no me va a pasar nada decía", cuenta Gabriela. Laura Chobocar sabía que iba a fiestas en chacras fuera de la ciudad, que desde que paraba en Russia sus clientes eran empresarios y políticos.

—¿Vos estás participando de las fiestas locas, de las fiestas VIP? —le preguntó poco antes de su muerte.

—¿No estarás consumiendo vos, no?

—Cuidate porque mirá que cuando te peguen no te van a ver como mujer, te van a ver como hombre.

La comunidad trans de Río Gallegos no es tan numerosa: son unas quince. Entre ellas hay todo tipo de internas, como suele ocurrir cuando se disputan novios, territorios, amores, protagónicos. Pero en un asunto todas tienen el mismo tipo de miedo: mejor no hablar con sus nombres del caso Chocobar; varias acceden pero escondidas de todo, sin dar señales. Solo Delfina Brizuela, que es funcionaria en la Secretaría de Derechos Humanos de la Gobernación provincial, habla sin problemas y sentada ante su jefa, la coordinadora del área de Diversidad. "Para ella haberse subido al auto o conocía a las personas o le mostraron mucho dinero —dice—. Marcela era muy llamativa, cualquier persona por más que no fuera del ambiente se daba cuenta de que era trans. Para levantarla frente a Russia se ve que esperan a que Cindy se fuera, porque cuando la encaran ella ya estaba sola". Y repite lo que las hermanas Chocobar tienen claro: "Ella en varias ocasiones fue a una chacra en la zona de San Benito de los Báez. La primera vez que iba no sabía donde la estaban llevando".

Gabriela era un oído especial para Marcela. A ella le confesaba algunas escenas que a las demás no.

—Yo lo conozco a Báez —decía ella.

—Qué vas a conocer a Báez, ¡vos!

—Sí, yo lo conozco —insistía.

"Después cuando desapareció fuimos a la casa de Cindy, y ella nos contó que un auto venía a buscarla y después la traía de la chacra de Báez", dice Gabriela. La misma Cindy dijo que en una de esas fiestas Marcela le escribió un mensaje en el que le avisaba que se sentía incómoda porque había demasiados hombres, "muy pasados". Esa noche prefirió salir del lugar.

Para migrantes como las hermanas Chocobar el apellido Báez primero significó empleo. Miles de personas llegaron del norte a buscar una vida mejor a Santa Cruz trabajando en las obras públicas que ejecutaban las empresas de Lázaro Báez, ahora procesado por lavado de dinero e investigado como supuesto testaferro de los ex presidentes Néstor y Cristina Fernández de Kirchner. Cuando en 2015 Marcela Chocobar hablaba de sus visitas a la chacra de los Báez la fama del apellido ya emanaba del rancio aroma de la corrupción y no sólo de su ímpetu como constructores. En ese vaivén entre un padre todopoderoso que se volvió en 15 años el hombre más rico de la comarca y el hombre investigado por la Justicia y perseguido por los medios se definieron los destinos de sus hijos, vinculados a medida que crecieron, como directores, socios, presidentes o firmantes en las empresas del padre.

De los cuatro hijos, dos mujeres y dos varones, Martín Báez es el mayor. A los 35 años es el que más vínculos con los negocios familiares tuvo. Entre otras diez empresas, fue puesto al frente de Kank y Costilla, dedicada a la construcción desde hace ya unos 30 años. Kank y Costilla fueron otros apellidos poderosos de la región hasta que debieron venderle a los exitosos Baez. Con un predio en el que se guardan maquinarias y materiales sobre la Avenida Gregores, en plena Río Gallegos, la base de Kank y Costilla sigue allí. Se nota poco movimiento desde la calle, como si de pronto se le hubiera apagado el motor inmenso a una fábrica que supo funcionar como un portento en épocas mejores: los portones de rejas negras cerrados, un perro flaco dando vueltas sobre sí, el viento que sopla entre los camiones y las máquinas quietos, pedazos de nylon de obra rotos. Y al costado, hacia la derecha, las casitas donde en otros tiempos vivieron los obreros calificados recién llegados a Gallegos. La del medio, sobre la que han dibujado un grafiti, es la que ocupaban Oscar Biott y Ángel Azzolini. Ese garage vacío, donde Biott estacionó el auto rojo la noche del crimen.

La fama de Martín Báez -su nuevo bigote negro, la raya al costado, el traje nada preciso- no llegó por su rol como director de las empresas paternas, sino por esa escena inolvidable: él, y otros tres jóvenes, con el aplomo de bancarios acostumbrados, contando millones de dólares en la financiera SGI de Puerto Madero. Esa escena partiría su vida en dos, no sólo porque complicó judicialmente la de su padre, que terminó preso, sino porque Martín y sus hermanos quedaron atrapados en la maraña de negocios y acusaciones; sobre todo él, que ahora vive encerrado en un departamento de Belgrano junto a su mujer y su hijo de dos años. Al intentar entrevistarlo sólo se consigue hablar con uno de sus colaboradores más cercanos, que accede, en off the record, a consultar a Martín. "Biott lo llamó después de que cayó preso para pedirle ayuda pero Martín le dijo que no podía hacer nada porque él mismo está lleno de problemas y si bien está libre es como si estuviera preso", contó.

El amigo de Martín Báez habla con tranquilidad: "Martín tiene el vicio de la escalada hace un montón. Acá en Gallegos había una palestra del CEPARD, él lo conoce ahí a Oscar Biott, que había venido a la ciudad a presentar un proyecto ante la Secretaría de Deportes. Un día le planteó que no tenía dónde vivir. Los otros tipos que hacen palestra con Martín le dijeron que lo ayudara. Martín le permitió ocupar la casita que tenía en el predio de la calle Gregores que pertenece a Kank y Costilla". Y desgrana explicaciones con sentido común: supieron del caso Chocobar cuando Biott y Azzolini fueron detenidos. No conocían a Marcela Chocobar. No hacían fiestas en la chacra, más que los asados familiares de fin de semana o los cumpleaños de los chicos, los nietos de Lázaro. Martín no es amigo de Biott, fue sólo su alumno de escalada. La chacra no está escondida, se la muestra en los medios como una fortaleza porque filman el gran portón negro, pero todo el perímetro está cercado solo con una media sombra. No se puede hacer nada ahí porque además están los caseros. No es un tugurio. No es un aguantadero. Y lo que suena más lógico: desde que comenzaron los problemas judiciales de la familia, en el año 2013, ese sitio es público. "Es el último lugar donde a alguien se le podría ocurrir hacer una fiesta así. Como creen que allí están enterrados millones de dólares debe ser uno de los lugares más controlados de Gallegos", dice.

El colaborador de Báez es tajante para definir a su jefe: como casi todos en la familia le encantan los deportes, así como escalaba, corría, andaba en bicicleta. Es un hombre de familia, de bajo perfil, que no participa en fiestas Vip con prostitutas. Cultiva un orden inclaudicable hasta para comer: combina la carne, el pescado y la verdura con obsesión.

—Pero Martín tiene un hermano menor…

—Sí, Leandro, que es lo opuesto. Es el que protagonizó un choque contra una casa de electrodomésticos en Gallegos. Sí. Pero no es un delincuente, ni un asesino.

El abogado de Leandro Báez, Santiago Viola, accedió a consultar a su cliente sobre el caso Chocobar. No vuelve a responder los llamados.

El abogado de Martín Báez, no contestó a los llamados. Un empleado de su estudio dijo que "el doctor no da entrevistas pero le transmitiremos el pedido".

En los tribunales de Río Gallegos el sindicato ha decretado un paro para pedir que les paguen el aguinaldo de invierno. En las oficinas del juzgado que investiga el crimen de Marcela apenas se escuchan los pasos y el murmullo de algunos. En un rincón lleno de expedientes una fuente judicial, en estricto off the record, reconoce que tienen la versión. "Los amigos cuentan que ella se sentía incómoda en una fiesta en una chacra y se fue por eso. Pero analizamos la conducta de los sospechosos y no eran clientes de ella", asegura. "Se trataron de cruzar las llamadas telefónicas del último tiempo para ver si había una relación previa, pero no hay nada que la conecte a Marcela con esas personas", abunda la fuente, siempre sin mencionar a los famosos apellidos locales. "Ella era extrovertida y osada. No tomaba muchos recaudos. Era temeraria. Sus amigas eran de tomar más medidas en pro de su seguridad", dice, sobre la víctima. Natalia Avalos, la abogada de la familia Chocobar, es consciente de que en el expediente judicial no hay pruebas que lleven a un autor intelectual tras los ejecutores que serían Azzolini y Biott. "No quita que ella haya sido contratada por alguien más, por un intermediario como el que la iba a buscar, y no por ellos directamente -dice-. Y que en esa fiesta o en otras haya estado esta gente".

Para Gabriela Chocobar la explicación está en el poder que manejaban quienes podrían estar tras el crimen de su hermana.

—El caso es tan resguardado porque tenía muchos clientes políticos, hijos de. Sé que ella andaba con concejales, diputados y que hacía cosas que ellos pedían que les hiciera. Gente que pedía otros tipos, o que se quedara horas y horas con ellos mientras consumían cocaína, o que le pedía cosas más raras como sadomasoquismo.

En su declaración judicial Ángel Azzolini dijo que el domingo a la mañana, al despertar, volvió a ver a Oscar Biott: aseguró que estaba con una remera ensangrentada. Sentado en los tribunales de Río Gallegos cuatro meses después de esa indagatoria dice:

"De la nada siento que me pegan. Ahí lo veo a Biott cambiado de ropa, Biott en pánico con los ojos llenos de lágrimas. Se había puesto una remera azul, jeans y zapatillas. Y dijo:

—La verdad yo no sé cómo contarte esto, no sé si lo maté o no.

—¿Cómo que no sabés? ¡Tenés que saber!"

Desde este punto en adelante el relato de lo que habría ocurrido lo gobierna Azzolini. Mientras Biott permanezca en silencio es imposible chequearlo con otra versión. José Ramón Lazza, el rasta que dormía en su casa esa noche, estuvo indetectable hasta hace pocas semanas: ahora se espera que declare, pero aún así, Azzolini dice que cuando ellos llegaron pasadas las seis de la mañana el invitado dormía, y que por la mañana, cuando Biott llegó, ya se había ido.

—Biott me cuenta: "La llevé para un barrio, que había un terreno, que había un montículo de tierra".

Entonces aparece la versión de Biott, siempre de boca de Azzolini. En ella hay tres secuencias. La primera: Biott baja a buscar algo a su cabaña y al regresar ve que Marcela le está revisando la billetera, por eso discuten y se escuchan gritos. Entonces él le dice, vamos a tu casa, pero sin embargo van hacia el barrio San Benito, a unos 20 minutos de la Avenida Gregores. La segunda secuencia en el relato a veces es San Benito, a veces al barrio vecino, Bicentenario I y II. Son barrios periféricos a los que se llega por un camino de asfalto que pasa junto a una laguna.

El lugar es un páramo apenas sembrado por construcciones nuevas aquí y allá, cada media cuadra, cada una cuadra, cada dos cuadras. Hay zonas en las que se juntan varias casitas pequeñas, a medio hacer, y otras en las que un cerco perimetral protege una casona de dos pisos con garage y la pretensión de un country. Cualquier esfuerzo por darle un color, un jardín, un árbol a los nuevos patios se desvanece ante la piedra y la tierra gris. Las calles de tierra se internan en el horizonte patagónico como si la ciudad se perdiera en el desierto.

En la tercera secuencia Biott y Marcela "se pelean" en un punto indeterminado de ese desierto suburbano. "Ella le tira un piedrazo al auto -dice Azzolini–. Le da al parabrisas del lado del conductor. Cuando terminan de forcejear ella cae en el piso. Biott dice que no sabe si queda inconsciente. Como no reaccionaba, se va".

Entre dormido Azzolini vio que Biott "tenía el cuello arañado como por un gato". "Eran entre las diez y las doce del mediodía.

—¿Pero sabés dónde la dejaste?

—No, era un terreno cercado y con un montículo de tierra y tenía madera y chapa.

—Sí, la vimos vestida de mujer. Pero cuando forcejee tenía fuerza y pegaba fuerte.

—Bueno, calmate un poco, dejame que desayune. Bajá la preocupación. Respirá hondo. Contame. Preparo unos mates".

En el relato de Azzolini todo parece ser de una normalidad exasperante aun cuando se habla de un asesinato. Con el mismo tono con el que cuenta los maltratos de su madre narra ese domingo de septiembre. "Me tenía que preparar para la semana, tenía que ir a la básica", dice.

–Hay que hacer desaparecer todo tipo de huella. Hay que hacer desaparecer el auto.

–No, si el auto es mío y yo no te voy a mandar al frente.

Entonces, cuenta Azzolini, su amigo Biott "pasó de melancólico a eufórico" y lo puso "contra la pared".

—Yo no tengo nada que ver, vos te fuiste con el auto sin pedirme permiso.

—A mí no me importa, vos me ayudás o te voy a matar a vos y a tu viejo.

Azzolini dice que le prometió ayuda y con eso lo calmó. A la tarde les dio hambre. Biott cocinó un guiso de papas y fideos con lo que encontró en la cabaña. "Quería hacer desaparecer las cosas, la funda del auto por las dudas haya quedado un pelo de ella".

—¿Cuándo sabés exactamente lo que le había pasado a Marcela?

—Yo me entero después de la noticia de que la chica había sido descuartizada y que la habían decapitado. En ese momento él no dijo que la íbamos a descuartizar.

Azzolini nunca pudo haber leído una noticia sobre un descuartizamiento.

Azzolini dice que desde el domingo y hasta el martes Biott lo obligó a acompañarlo tres veces a dar vueltas por el barrio Bicentenario en busca del cadáver de Marcela Chocobar. "El domingo a la noche fuimos al terreno, pero nunca ví nada. Eso es campo pelado, casi no hay edificaciones". El lunes Azzolini volvió a tener un despertar complicado. Su amigo le avisó que el Renault 9 se le había quedado porque se le recalentó el radiador. Estaba junto a Adrián Fioramonti. En su declaración, Fioramonti dijo que ese día aún no sabía que los otros dos habían estado con Marcela Chocobar. Que le vio a Biott las marcas en el cuello, pero que sólo le dijo que había peleado con una travesti. "Después el lunes nos tomamos un colectivo para ir al barrio. Estuvimos tres o cuatro horas caminando. No encontramos nada. Él rodeaba algunos terrenos y siempre pasó por afuera".

La historia de un joven obligado a ayudar a un amigo a ocultar un cadáver que no encuentran está más cerca de un guión bizarro que de un relato policial verosímil. Pero Ángel Azzolini abunda en detalles sobre esa búsqueda infructuosa. Al día siguiente regresaron al barrio, esta vez en bicicleta. Esta vez, dice, llevaban una mochila en la que Biott había metido un cuchillo y una botella con nafta. Como se cansó, Azzolini dejó que su amigo vagara por los descampados y se refugió en una vieja garita de colectivos. "Me quedo solo. Miro el paisaje, la ruta, los autos, los camiones. Volvió a los 45 minutos y nada. Después nos sentamos arriba de una prefabricada para ver si se veía algo, nada. Entonces le dije: loco, ya está, me quiero ir a casa, estoy cagado de frío. Si te mandaste la cagada por lo menos acordate dónde la dejaste".

Cuando se dieron por vencidos, mientras volvían a la cabaña de Báez, Azzolini dice que los dos pensaron: "Ojalá que se la hayan encontrado y se la hayan comido los perros o los chanchos".

Los animales aparecen en el final de esta historia. Los investigadores también se preguntaron si para desaparecer cualquier rastro los asesinos arrojaron los restos de la víctima en una de las chancherías que abundan en la zona. O si lo perros de los barrios desérticos pudieron haberlos consumido. También creen que una solución final para los homicidas pudo haber sido tirarlos en el vaciadero municipal, donde existe una sección para las sobras de los animales faenados en los frigoríficos de la región. Si es así es prácticamente imposible que aparezcan: son toneladas de huesos, montañas sanguinolentas que pueden ocultarlo todo. Una mujer del barrio se presentó ante la jueza Suárez una mañana poco después de la detención de los amigos. Contó que Azzolini conocía bien al jefe del basurero, un tal Castillo. Cuando lo fueron a buscar el hombre había pedido una licencia sin goce de sueldo en su empleo de años en la Municipalidad. No hay rastros de él. Nadie ha podido ubicarlo. Como el cuerpo de Marcela Chocobar, también está desaparecido.

Fotos: Gentileza Diario Tiempo Sur

Esta investigación fue realizada por Cristian Alarcón para Chequeado.com y se publicó en noviembre de 2016 en forma conjunta con Revista Anfibia. Chequeado es una organización dedicada a la verificación del discurso que busca mejorar la calidad del debate público en la Argentina.

Este artículo forma parte del proyecto "Investigación y datos: Chequeado sin corsé", que incluye más de 12 producciones a publicarse antes de fines de 2016 en el sitio especial "Chequeado Investigación", y que fueron financiadas gracias al apoyo de Open Society Foundations (OSF).

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