The puzzling murder of a Spanish chef and convicted swindler in Brazil

As has happened so many times in Brazil, a tale of horror unfolds in an idyllic landscape. This time, it was the brutal murders of David Peregrina Capó, a 53-year-old Spaniard and convicted fraudster, and Érika da Silva Santos, his 38-year-old Brazilian spouse. The couple lived in a dreamy corner of the country — Porto Seguro — a coastal resort town in the northeastern state of Bahia. They bought an island spanning hundreds of acres in the middle of a river, built a home and established an exclusive restaurant. Their offerings included a delectable fresh seafood paella, a Spanish cold garlic and almond soup, and an exquisite fish tartare, complemented by your choice of white wine, champagne or caipirinha cocktails. With a view of the river and surrounded by lush jungle, the restaurant was flourishing. David and Érika had ambitious plans to find investors for expanding the venture and sell part of their land for millions of dollars. And Pedro, their 21-year-old son, would soon be leaving the nest to set out on his own. But in an age-old tale of human tragedy, four bullets abruptly ended the dream.

The mysterious murder remains unsolved. David was found in the kitchen, wearing only underwear. He had been shot three times. Érika tried to escape by jumping from the second floor, but she was killed in the garden with a shot to the head. There was no one else on the island — Pedro was at his grandmother’s house. But someone heard the shots and the police arrived at the crime scene by boat a few hours later.

The secluded restaurant is a 40-minute boat ride upriver from Porto Seguro, one of Brazil’s most popular tourist destinations. The remote location added to the allure of savoring Spanish cuisine in an intimate and sophisticated setting with a breathtaking view. Reservations were required, as the restaurant had a maximum capacity of 20 diners.

“We’re all in shock. They were such a charismatic couple who just wanted to make their friends and clients happy,” said Ana, still emotional from the deaths of the couple who had been her friends since 2020. Ana is not her real name — a murderer is still on the loose and the motives for the crime are still a mystery. She hesitates to discuss the case, much like others who were close to the victims. While the police haven’t disclosed any details about their investigation, the murders were clearly intentional, as nothing was stolen. The restaurant’s security cameras may have recorded the crime, but the police haven’t revealed anything and no arrests have been made. The motive for the crime is unknown but rumors abound. One is that the couple clashed with criminals who may have been using the remote location to traffic drugs and hide weapons.

“I just can’t wrap my head around the fact that he was a criminal, you know?” says Ana, sitting in her shady garden in Porto Seguro. The couple’s friends were still processing the shock of the murder when they learned another startling fact about Peregrina. The charming and kind man who posted smiling pictures of himself on Instagram wearing a chef’s jacket and cooking paella, was actually a convict. In 2012, he was found guilty in two fraud cases. One involved embezzling €2 million ($2.17 million) from a bank through fake mortgages when Peregrina was the branch manager in his hometown of Muro on the island of Mallorca (Spain). The other was when he managed a restaurant in Palma (Mallorca’s capital); Peregrina swindled €200,000 ($217,000) from the restaurant.

Local chef Barega Cangussu said he had heard a little about his friend’s past life. “He told me he was from Mallorca, but he didn’t say much more. I knew he had been in jail, but I never asked him what for. I mean, who am I to judge?” Like other friends of the victims we interviewed, he was happy to learn Peregrina completed his prison sentences in 2020.

Cangussu said the couple’s business was steadily improving. “He just wanted to put the past behind him, you know? He told me, ‘Everything’s going to be different now. I’m really happy with Érika. We’ve got this hotel project, and it’s going to make our lives so much better.’ They were taking out some loans and selling some of the land to make it happen.” About six months ago, they put five 5-acre lots up for sale for $400,000 each, according to the real estate agency that still advertises the properties on the internet with a new notice that the owners have died.

Pau do Macaco island in the middle of the Buranhém River is an ideal place to keep a low profile. The couple is believed to have bought it in 2008 after Peregrina fled Spain while under police investigation. Santos made the purchase, possibly using money obtained from her boyfriend’s scams in Spain. Brazil attracts many foreigners like Peregrina who arrive with illicit funds. He eventually returned to face trial in Spain, was convicted and sent to prison. But before long, Peregrina was somehow released and returned to Brazil where he reunited with Santos and reinvented himself as a paella cook. They built a house on the island and began offering what the travel industry calls “experience tourism” in 2016. His friends don’t think he traveled back to Spain much, but admit to knowing little about the couple’s lives.

Peregrina and Santos chose their island location because Santos was from Itagimirim, a city about 60 miles inland from Porto Seguro. The couple was laid to rest there the day after their bodies were discovered. Brazil was founded in the coastal region of Bahia, known as the “Discovery Coast.” The first Portuguese settlers arrived here, and millions of slaves disembarked in the state capital of Salvador de Bahia. Their slave labor in the sugarcane industry laid the country’s foundations. Porto Seguro, a municipality of 170,000 with 50 miles of coastline, thrives on tourism for everyone, from budget-conscious backpackers to free-spending jet-setters. President Luiz Inácio Lula da Silva vacationed on a farm here last year before taking office for his third term on January 1.

Bahía’s miles of stunning beaches with shady coconut trees offer a tranquil oasis that stands in stark contrast to its troubled inland cities. Despite Bahía being a relatively small area with a population of 15 million, the state experienced a staggering 6,600 murders in 2022, making it the second most violent region in the nation. In recent years, Bahía has been grappling with a security crisis due to the growing presence of organized crime. Porto Seguro, with its two million annual visitors, has emerged as a significant economic force and a flourishing market for illegal drugs like cocaine and marijuana.

Brazil, with its vast size and porous borders, has long been a haven for fugitives like Josef Mengele, the Nazi criminal who lived undetected in São Paulo until his death, Ronald Biggs of the 1963 Great Train Robbery, and Carlos García Juliá, one of the killers of the Atocha massacre in 1977. That there are Brazilians who look Italian, German, Korean or Mexican makes it much easier for fugitive foreigners to hide among the local populace. Casual conversations in Porto Seguro often touch on the city’s rising crime: the guy who got caught with 300 kilos of cocaine on a sailboat in the Mediterranean; the friendly hotel receptionist who robbed a bank in São Paulo; and the nice lady with a synthetic drug lab in her house. The oblivious tourists enjoying the sun, beaches and lively beach bars don’t know the half of it.

News of the crime reached Maria via a WhatsApp group. “Barbaric crime: Spanish chef and wife shot to death,” was the headline of a local news outlet. It was chilling news because “this is still a quiet place,” said this veteran of the tourism industry who also wanted to use a pseudonym for this story. Maria helped Peregrina and Santos develop their restaurant business and said, “They fought hard for what they had. In the beginning, it was just the two of them and their young son.” That would be Pedro, Érika’s boy who called his stepfather dad (Peregrina also had two daughters in Spain). Pedro went to school in the city and returned to the island on weekends to lend a hand. Peregrina cooked while Santos was in charge of desserts and drinks. The fixed menu plus the boat trip to the island cost a little under $50. The couple did not have permanent employees, and instead hired kitchen assistants and waiters daily, depending on reservations.

After the pandemic and a flood that devastated the island, Maria says business started to pick up. People started hearing about the restaurant through word of mouth, and the couple’s reputation grew. They purchased a boat and started getting invited to local culinary events, making new friends along the way. “They started getting a lot of attention, and everyone who went there left happy and satisfied,” said Maria. Residents of Porto Seguro began booking the venue for birthdays and company celebrations.

“They went out at five in the morning to buy fish, seafood and ice. The service was excellent — they would greet customers at the dock with appetizers waiting,” said Ana. The couple led a very simple life. In order to rebuild the house following the flood, a raffle was organized, with the added support of animal protection organizations.

Ana says she once asked her friend, “Don’t you think this place is too isolated? You’re all alone here.” Érika laughed. “Alone? We do have two dogs!” Pedro intends to retrieve the two dogs and 15 chickens from the coops near the swing set.

Despite the veneer of successful happiness portrayed on Instagram, the business faced a multitude of challenges. The restaurant only opened if at least six people had made reservations. With no electricity on the island, they used solar power for their internet connection and other needs. Cash was not accepted. Instead, they exclusively used Pix, an instant payment platform created and managed by the Central Bank of Brazil. Santos, not her spouse, was in charge of paying vendors at the local fish market for prawns, lobster, tuna and dorado fish. According to some friends, all the property was in her name.

Recently, Peregrina and Santos began receiving assistance from the Brazilian government organization that advises small and medium-sized companies. Their dream was to get financing to build cabins and offer an even more extraordinary island experience. Selling some lots would require parting with a small portion of an immense, secluded piece of land that had been the ideal hideaway for a Spanish chef and convict to pursue a new dream.

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