2Payasos: a novel: Chapter 1Richard Wilson stared out the window at the streets below.It was a beautiful day for a circus, he thought next. And indeedit was. Under the bow tie sun a Dantesque circus had arrived inLima, Peru. Abimael Guzman, the great and feared leader ofSendero Luminosos...the Shining Path Guerilla movement...playedthe ringmaster. The Peruvian Government conducted the orchestra.The crowds, well they played the bit roles: clowns. The circus began precisely at eight A.M. At this designated hour armedsoldiers bodily carried Guzman from his prison cell and placedhim inside a lions cage that was in turn loaded aboard a flatbedtruck. As soon as the cage was locked, an order was barked, andthe truck began its ponderous journey to the Palazia de Justice.The truck followed the wide recently washed clean boulevardswhere every mile serious faced statues of long dead Generalsstood erect...their only claim to fame: deposing a clone of them-selves. To say the masses watched would be an understatement,they, numbering in the tens of thousands, thronged the sidewalksso that they pushed against the wooden barricades in the hope ofcatching a glimpse of Guzman. Guzman knew most came to see alunatic, and a few a martyr, and he had long decided to mix martyrdom and madness; and done so extremely well. Guzman,