It's a late winter evening on August 31, 2009 in Brasília, Brazil. A worried granddaughter stands in the dimly lit hallway of a high-rise apartment block, the air thick with a foul odor.
She hasn't heard from her grandparents in days. Beside her, a locksmith works intently at the heavy wooden door – three separate locks, all mysteriously latched from the inside. After twenty tense minutes, the final lock yields.
The door creaks open, and a male relative steps through the threshold while the young woman waits, heart pounding. Suddenly, he staggers back, phone in hand, pale and shaken. Inside the upscale apartment lies a nightmarish scene: three bodies sprawled in pools of dried blood.
Former Justice Minister José Guilherme Villela, 73, his wife Maria Villela, 69, and their housekeeper, 58-year-old Francisca da Silva, have been brutally stabbed to death – a total of over 70 knife wounds between them.
- Triple Murder
José Guilherme Villela, Maria Villela, and housekeeper Francisca da Silva are stabbed to death in their sixth-floor Brasília apartment around 7 PM.
- Bodies Discovered
After three days without contact, a locksmith breaks through triple-locked doors. The granddaughter's worst fears are confirmed.
- Leonardo Confesses
Ex-doorman Leonardo Campos Alves is arrested in rural Minas Gerais and confesses, naming accomplices and implicating Adriana Villela as mastermind.
The Power Couple of SQSW 113
To understand the impact of this crime, we first need to know who these victims were. José Guilherme Villela was one of Brazil's most esteemed legal minds. A prominent attorney for over 45 years, Villela had taught law at the University of Brasília and co-founded a prestigious law firm with his wife. In fact, he had even held high judicial office: from 1980 to 1986, José Guilherme served as a minister of the Superior Electoral Court – essentially an Electoral Justice on Brazil's top elections tribunal.
He had been involved in landmark political cases, famously defending former President Fernando Collor de Mello during Collor's impeachment proceedings in the early 1990s. By 2009, Villela was semi-retired from public life, but he and his wife still ran Villela Advocacia, one of Brasília's most respected law offices. He was a well-connected man who counted presidents, governors, and other power brokers among his past clients.
José Guilherme's wife, Maria Carvalho Villela, 69, was herself an accomplished lawyer and his law partner. Described as elegant and sharp, Maria had worked alongside her husband for decades. The two were a power couple in legal circles – wealthy, educated, and living comfortably in Brasília's upscale South Wing.
They owned a spacious sixth-floor apartment in SQSW 113 – South Quadra 113 – an affluent, quiet residential block in the city's Asa Sul district. At approximately 500 square meters (over 5,000 square feet), their home was large enough to combine two units (601 and 602) into one; it was the kind of luxurious apartment where you needed three locks on the front door, and where the neighbors were judges, diplomats, and government ministers.
Thirty-Two Years of Loyalty
By the Villelas' side for over 32 years was their loyal housekeeper, Francisca Nascimento da Silva. Francisca, 58, had become almost part of the family – she had started working for the Villelas in the late 1970s and practically helped raise the Villela children. Hired as a domestic worker after she moved to Brasília in 1975, Francisca eventually became the family's housekeeper.
On weekdays, she would cook, clean, and manage the household tasks in the Villela residence. It's easy to imagine that after three decades, she knew the family's routines and secrets better than anyone. Her own relatives later described how devoted Francisca was to the Villelas – she was proud to work for such an important family, and she trusted them like her own.
Tragically, that loyalty placed her in harm's way. Francisca was killed "in the line of duty," as one report put it – murdered while faithfully carrying out her daily work. She left behind a grief-stricken family of her own, who would soon find themselves not only mourning her loss but also fearful and in the dark about the investigation's progress.
A Bloodbath Behind Locked Doors
When Brasília's homicide investigators entered the Villela apartment on that night of August 31, 2009, they encountered a ghastly but revealing scene. The three victims had clearly been dead for around three days, since the previous Friday. The advanced state of decomposition and the foul smell reported by building staff indicated the bodies had been lying there the entire weekend. The timing made sense – as we heard, none of the victims had been seen or heard from since the evening of Friday, August 28.
Each victim had been stabbed dozens of times in a frenzy of violence. In total, 73 stab wounds were counted across the three bodies. José Guilherme, the patriarch, suffered the worst of it: he alone sustained 38 separate knife wounds, evidence of a prolonged and vicious attack. Maria Villela and Francisca were stabbed repeatedly as well – later reports indicated Francisca had around 23 wounds and Maria at least a dozen.
The sheer number of injuries spoke to a level of rage and overkill that is unusual even in violent robberies. This was not a quick, calculated execution – it was a bloodbath. One veteran detective at the scene would tell reporters that the brutality suggested a very personal motive: "Whoever did this wasn't just trying to kill – they were venting anger." Whether that assessment was correct or not, it was clear that this was a targeted triple homicide, not an accident or a simple burglary gone wrong.
Investigators found no immediate signs of forced entry – no broken locks, no smashed windows. In fact, quite the opposite: as the locksmith testified, all three locks on the front door had been deliberately double-locked from the inside with the keys left in the keyholes. This clever move meant that even someone with a spare key (like a relative or a building security guard) couldn't unlock the door from the outside, since the interior keys blocked the locks.
The killer (or killers) had essentially sealed the apartment as they left, buying themselves time before discovery. Indeed, it had taken worried family members until Monday night to resort to calling a locksmith. By then, the perpetrators were long gone.
Inside, nothing was obviously ransacked – this wasn't the stereotypical burglary scene with drawers pulled out and belongings strewn about. However, upon closer inspection, valuable items were missing. The family later reported that a cache of expensive jewelry (worth an estimated R$700,000, about $350,000 USD) had disappeared from Maria's collection.
An additional $25,000 in cash was gone from the household safe. Whoever committed the murders had indeed taken the time to gather up jewelry and money. They'd also left behind a crucial piece of evidence: on the floor near the bodies, police recovered a bloodied 15-centimeter kitchen knife. It appeared to be one of the knives from the Villelas' own kitchen. This knife would later be confirmed as one of the murder weapons, possibly used in the stabbing spree. If there were other knives used, they were not found at the scene – suggesting the attackers might have taken some weapons with them or perhaps the one knife was used on all three victims until it was dropped.
Other subtle clues in the apartment hinted at a well-planned operation. There were no signs of a struggle outside of the immediate area of the attack – meaning the victims likely had little chance to fight back or flee. Two of the bodies were found in or near the service areas of the apartment (the hallway by the kitchen), and one body – Maria's – was found further inside, possibly in a corridor leading toward the bedrooms. This positioning raised the possibility that the victims had been separated and ambushed quickly.
Perhaps Francisca (the housekeeper) was attacked first in the kitchen area – maybe while preparing dinner – and the noise drew José and Maria toward the kitchen, where they were set upon. The exact scenario wasn't immediately clear, but investigators believed the murders happened in a tight time window, around 7:00 to 7:30 PM on Friday.
Neighbors in the building later reported hearing nothing distinctly alarming that night – the thick concrete walls of Brasília apartments can muffle even violent struggles, and sadly, any cries for help went unnoticed amid the normal city noise. In short, the killer or killers managed to infiltrate the home, commit three murders swiftly, and leave without attracting outside attention.
From the start, one thing was evident: the perpetrator likely had easy access to the Villela home. As one detective observed, "whoever did this hardly got into apartment 601/602 without someone inside letting them in." There was no sign of a break-in, so the attacker either had a key or was allowed in by the victims. There was no broken lock and no forced entry.
The Villelas lived in a secure building with a doorman and surveillance – not a place where random criminals can just stroll up. On that fateful Friday, the building's sign-in logs showed no unexpected visitors, and nothing appeared out of order. That narrowed things down to two main possibilities in investigators' minds: either the murders were committed by someone the family knew and willingly let inside, or by someone who had obtained a key and possibly the alarm code.
With three affluent victims and a crime of such savagery, motive was the next puzzle. At first glance, robbery seemed plausible since valuables were taken. Perhaps this was a home invasion that escalated, or a calculated latrocínio (robbery-murder) – a known phenomenon where burglars kill the witnesses to their theft. Yet experienced officers were not entirely convinced.
If robbery was the sole motive, why slaughter all three residents with such overkill? Why not threaten them with a weapon and steal the goods quietly? The excessive violence hinted that theft might have been secondary – maybe a cover-up or bonus rather than the primary reason for the break-in. Investigators theorized that perhaps the murder was premeditated, and after killing the victims, the culprit grabbed some jewelry and cash to stage the scene as a robbery. In other words, the "theft" could be a red herring to mislead the police.
On the other hand, the fact that expensive items were indeed gone could not be ignored. It was quite possible that greed and violence were intertwined in this crime. The police, therefore, kept multiple hypotheses open in the early days: one, that a contract killer had been hired to execute the family (perhaps for revenge or some feud) and took valuables to simulate a burglary; two, that it was in fact a botched robbery by someone who knew the couple had cash and jewelry at home; or three, that the murders were driven by personal enmity (such as a family conflict or a disgruntled associate) and the killer opportunistically looted the apartment afterwards.
From Day One, the case had immense public visibility. The combination of José Guilherme Villela's prominence and the gruesomeness of the crime made headlines across Brazil. News outlets flashed images of the crime scene tape around the building and reminded the public of Villela's stature – "Lawyer Who Defended Collor Found Murdered at Home" was a typical headline.
The Brazilian Bar Association swiftly issued a statement mourning Villela's death and expressing concern about violence against members of the legal profession. The shock in Brasília's elite circles was palpable; judges, attorneys, and politicians all felt a chilling sense of vulnerability. If someone like Villela, with all his connections and resources, could be slaughtered in his own secured apartment, then who was truly safe? There was enormous pressure on the DF civil police, responsible for investigations, to solve the case quickly.
The initial investigation fell to the 1st Police Precinct of Asa Sul, the precinct covering that sector of the city. The lead investigator was Delegada Martha Geny Vargas, a veteran detective known for her tenacity. In those first few weeks after the murders, Detective Vargas and her team worked around the clock. They combed through the apartment for forensic evidence, collected fingerprints, and began interviewing everyone who might have insights – family, friends, neighbors, colleagues, building staff, and anyone who had interacted with the Villelas recently.
One early finding from the forensics team stood out: other than the victims themselves, no unidentified fingerprints or DNA were immediately found that could point to an outside intruder. The crime scene was disturbingly clean in that sense. Given how bloody the attack was, one might expect the perpetrator to leave some trace – a bloody shoeprint, a dropped glove, something. But if such evidence existed, it wasn't disclosed. Investigators did receive "periodic updates" from the lab on prints collected in the apartment, but initially, nothing obvious like a foreign fingerprint on the murder weapon or a stray hair turned up. This deepened the suspicion that the killer was careful, methodical, or perhaps even someone who had reason to be in the apartment previously, making their prints or DNA less conspicuous.
By mid-September 2009, just a couple of weeks in, Detective Martha Vargas hinted to the media that she had a suspect in mind. She kept the identity tight-lipped, but confidently told reporters that an arrest was expected imminently. This statement came on September 1, right after the bodies were found, which suggests the police were indeed focusing on someone from the get-go. However, no such immediate arrest materialized that day. If Vargas truly had a suspect, she either lacked the evidence to detain them or was thrown off course by new information.
The Séance in the Case File
It turned out the investigation was about to take a strange detour. With intense pressure to crack the case and few solid leads in hand, the police pursued any and all tips – including some that veered into the paranormal. In an unusual move, Detective Vargas brought in a self-proclaimed psychic, a woman named Rosa Maria Jaques, who claimed to receive visions of the crime.
Rosa Maria and her husband even visited the crime scene at the detective's invitation. The psychic dramatically claimed she could sense what happened that night – she described multiple perpetrators and even hinted at the involvement of a family member, though her story was convoluted. Astonishingly, the police took her "evidence" seriously enough to include it in the case file. At one point, this psychic suggested there was physical evidence hidden at a farm in the neighboring state of Minas Gerais.
Lo and behold, acting on her tip, investigators went to that remote farm property and "found" a letter inside a small box, buried in a cattle trough, which purported to name the mastermind of the crime. To outside observers, this was beyond bizarre – it sounded like something out of a detective novel rather than a real homicide inquiry.
The psychic's involvement would later be harshly criticized. In fact, **years later prosecutors concluded that Rosa Maria, the psychic, had likely been paid by someone to sow chaos and false leads in the investigation. Both the psychic and the person suspected of bribing her denied it, but the damage was done. The inclusion of such fantastical "evidence" undermined the credibility of the early investigation.
Meanwhile, more conventional police work was continuing. Detectives verified alibis of those close to the victims. They gathered surveillance footage from nearby buildings and traffic cameras, hoping to spot suspicious vehicles or persons around the time of the crime. They also took a hard look at the Villela family dynamics. Often, in cases like this, investigators perform the "victimology" – understanding who the victims were and any conflicts they had.
'That Lousy Money'
One notable avenue was the Villelas' immediate family: their adult children. José and Maria had two grown children – a son, Augusto, and a daughter, Adriana. Augusto lived out of town at the time, and by all accounts had a solid alibi – he wasn't in Brasília that weekend. The daughter, Adriana Villela, however, did live in Brasília. At 45 years old, Adriana was an architect and artist. Naturally, the police interviewed her, as she was the victims' daughter and had been in contact with her parents shortly before their disappearance.
What detectives learned was that Adriana had a complicated relationship with her parents. Witnesses (and later prosecutors) would describe it as "conturbada" – turbulent. There were long-standing financial disputes between Adriana and her mom and dad. By 2009, Adriana was financially dependent on her parents to a significant degree. Although educated and talented, she wasn't as successful professionally, and her parents supported her lifestyle with a generous monthly allowance.
It came out that Adriana would sometimes quarrel with her mother Maria about money – things like the parents paying her bills, covering her car expenses and even her traffic tickets. According to one account, Maria would scold Adriana for racking up too many speeding fines, to which Adriana retorted that she at least needed to be informed of them if her mother was just quietly paying them.
These may sound like ordinary family squabbles, but it painted a picture of friction. Adriana was also reportedly upset about her inheritance – she expected to eventually receive a share of her parents' substantial wealth, and there were allegations that these expectations had caused fights.
In fact, not long after the murders, rumors swirled in Brasília's rumor mill that Adriana had something to gain financially if her parents died. A police source told a journalist, "She had a conflicted relationship with her parents over money, and the forensic analysis found her fingerprints at the apartment dated to the day of the crime". That quote was a bombshell: it implied that not only was there motive (money disputes), but also potential evidence placing Adriana at the crime scene on the day of the murders.
When confronted with these insinuations, Adriana vehemently denied any involvement. In an interview with the Correio Braziliense newspaper, she responded to the suspicion with frustration and anguish. "Did I have disagreements with my parents? Yes," she admitted, "But I did not have them killed. Who could think I'd murder my father and mother to get that lousy money?"
She went on to explain that far from extorting her parents, she felt grateful for their support. "I got a generous allowance – envy of any public servant," Adriana said, "and extra expenses were always covered whenever I asked". In other words, why would she kill the golden goose that was funding her comfortable life? She portrayed the police's suspicions as absurd, a result of tunnel vision.
In that same interview, Adriana expressed deep fear: "Of course I'm afraid of being wrongfully convicted. The police convinced themselves of an improbable hypothesis and have been manufacturing evidence against me," she claimed, referencing how she felt the investigative team was out to frame her. Indeed, by this point (mid-2010), Adriana was asserting that Detective Martha Vargas and others were "producing" evidence to fit their theory, rather than following the facts.
Unfortunately for Adriana, her credibility wasn't helped by some strange behavior on her part after the murders. Police noted that in the weeks following her parents' death, Adriana had sought out the services of a well-known local spiritist medium – trying to communicate with her dead parents' spirits – and that she had made some erratic statements in those sessions. It's important to remember she was a grieving daughter, and people handle trauma in unusual ways. But to law enforcement, these actions were suspect. They wondered if it was genuine grief or an elaborate act of a guilty conscience.
As the weeks went on, Detective Martha Vargas became increasingly convinced that Adriana Villela was behind the crime. Vargas's hypothesis was that Adriana hired someone to kill her parents (and unfortunately, Francisca as a witness), motivated by greed over a multi-million real inheritance. However, Vargas's investigation, as we've seen, was plagued by irregularities and later discredited tactics (like the psychic).
By early 2010, the case still hadn't been solved, and frustrations were mounting on all sides. The Villela murders were turning into one of Brasília's most notorious cold cases, and that reflected poorly on the police. Amid concerns of incompetence or even corruption, the 1ª DP (Martha Vargas's unit) was taken off the case. The responsibility was transferred to a specialized homicide division called Corvida under a new lead investigator, Delegada Mabel de Faria.
The Ex-Doorman from Montalvânia
By mid-2010, under Delegada Mabel de Faria's direction, the investigation gained fresh momentum. Mabel and her team at Corvida re-examined the enormous case file – more than 16,000 pages of reports, forensic results, and interview transcripts. They sought to cut through the clutter of false leads and focus on concrete evidence.
Importantly, Mabel de Faria's team did not buy the "random robbery" theory. She would later testify that from the moment she took over, it was clear to her this was not a simple latrocínio (robbery-murder). Too many factors – the locked door, the focused brutality, the valuable personal relationships – pointed to a premeditated triple homicide likely orchestrated by someone with a personal motive.
Corvida's investigators dug deeper into the question of "Who could get into the apartment easily?" Besides family, one obvious category was current or former employees of the Villelas. The Villelas had a small domestic staff. Apart from Francisca (who was now a victim), they had sometimes employed a driver and perhaps a cleaner or cook. But one name quickly surfaced: Leonardo Campos Alves.
Leonardo had been the building's doorman (porteiro) and handyman for many years, working at the Villelas' residential block until sometime in 2009. In fact, he was the ex-zelador – essentially the building superintendent or caretaker – responsible for maintenance and having access to residents' units as needed. Leonardo was 44 years old and had left the job earlier in 2009, moving back to his hometown in the rural northern tip of Minas Gerais state.
At the time of the murders, Leonardo was supposedly living over 600 km away from Brasília, in a small town called Montalvânia, MG. On the surface, he wasn't an obvious suspect initially – he wasn't around, and he had no known quarrel with the Villelas. But the new team saw a few reasons to take a closer look.
Leonardo knew the building's layout and security intimately. If anyone could get in and out without leaving a trace, it might be him. He also might have retained a copy of keys or insider knowledge (like entry codes). Residents often trust long-time building staff with access. If Leonardo had ill intent, he might have had a way in.
Notably, after the murders, the killer had attempted to sell stolen jewelry from the Villela apartment. By 2010, police had traced some of Maria Villela's missing jewelry pieces to a shop (a jewelry store or pawn broker in Brasília) where they had been sold or fenced. They identified a suspected fence who had those jewels. When questioned, that person pointed to who brought the jewels in: and the trail led back to Leonardo Alves. This was a major break – hard evidence linking Leonardo to the stolen items. If he had the loot, chances were high he was involved in the crime that produced it.
Additionally, a curious tip came from a prison inmate in Brasília. This part sounds like a movie: one of Leonardo's sons had ended up incarcerated at Papuda Penitentiary on unrelated charges, and he reportedly boasted to a cellmate that his father was responsible for the notorious "113 South" murders. Word of this jailhouse gossip reached the police. Realizing that the pieces were coming together, Delegada Mabel's team quietly coordinated with authorities in Minas Gerais to locate Leonardo.
In November 2010, a little over a year after the murders, police moved in. They found Leonardo Campos Alves living in a rural area outside the small town of Montalvânia. On November 15, 2010, he was arrested and brought to the police station in Montes Claros, MG for questioning. Facing mounting evidence – the jewelry link, the rumors, perhaps phone records placing him back in Brasília – Leonardo confessed. On the evening of November 16, 2010, in front of delegada Mabel de Faria and the DF police chief Pedro Cardoso, Leonardo Campos Alves admitted to participating in the triple homicide.
The confession was chilling and detailed. Leonardo revealed that he did not act alone. He implicated at least two accomplices in the murders: one was his nephew, Paulo Cardoso Santana, a young man in his early 20s, and the other was a friend or acquaintance named Francisco Mairlon Barros Aguiar, around 26 years old. Both Paulo and Mairlon were also from the same region of Minas Gerais as Leonardo.
In fact, by the time of Leonardo's confession, police had already tracked down and detained Paulo Mota Cardoso (often referred to by his first and last name, Paulo Cardoso Santana) – he was picked up the same day in Montalvânia and put in the local jail. Francisco Mairlon Aguiar was arrested a short while later. The pieces of the puzzle were finally coming together.
Inside Job
Leonardo's initial story for the police was that the motive was robbery. He claimed that he had heard about the Villelas' wealth and figured there were easy pickings in that apartment – cash, gold, jewels. He admitted he traveled from Minas Gerais back to Brasília in late August 2009 with a plan to rob the Villelas. According to his confession, on the evening of Friday, August 28, he drove with his two recruits, Paulo and Mairlon, to the Villelas' residence.
Leonardo, with his insider knowledge, guided the younger men. He knew the building, the apartment layout, and presumably how to avoid cameras. Critically, he also likely knew that Francisca, the housekeeper, would be there that evening, and perhaps that the Villelas had no security guard or another staff at home. Leonardo told police that he himself did not enter the apartment, but he sent Paulo and Mairlon inside with instructions. It's believed Leonardo waited outside or in the car, acting as a lookout or getaway driver.
How did Paulo and Mairlon get in without forcing the door? Leonardo's confession (and subsequent investigation) suggested that they had inside help: from Adriana Villela herself. This was the bombshell twist – Leonardo stated that Adriana was the mastermind who hired him. He claimed Adriana provided keys and information to facilitate the entry. It's worth noting that Adriana, as a daughter, would have had her own set of keys to her parents' apartment and would know the household routine. If Leonardo's statement was true, it meant the crime was an inside job orchestrated by a family member for financial gain.
But in these first hours of confession on November 16, Leonardo wavered a bit in his story. Initially, he did not mention Adriana; he portrayed it as a robbery that he and his accomplices decided on by themselves. He said they entered to steal, but things got out of hand – they stabbed the victims to avoid being recognized. In fact, Leonardo knew both José and Maria personally from his years as their building superintendent, and of course Francisca knew him very well.
If he had walked into that apartment, all three would have instantly identified him. Leonardo claimed that fear of recognition was why the trio decided they had to kill the victims. This explanation lined up with a detail: Francisca's body was found near the kitchen, as if she'd encountered the intruders first, possibly recognizing them (or one of them), sealing her fate.
However, just days after this confession, Leonardo dramatically changed his story. Perhaps after negotiating or realizing the evidence against him was overwhelming, he decided to fully cooperate and point fingers upwards. He then alleged that Adriana Villela had in fact recruited him to arrange the murders. He painted Adriana as the ultimate author of the crime, saying she promised him a hefty reward – money and expensive jewelry – if he would "take care" of her parents.
The plan was to make it look like a home invasion. According to Leonardo, Adriana's motive was indeed the inheritance and ongoing financial disputes. She wanted her parents gone. Leonardo was tempted by the potential payout and roped in his nephew and friend to do the dirty work.
This was a huge development. Suddenly, the case had an entirely new narrative: parricide for profit. The police and prosecutors took Leonardo's amended confession very seriously. After all, they already suspected Adriana for the reasons we discussed – her conflicts with the parents and some evidence like her prints at the scene. Now they had one of the perpetrators directly accusing her.
The Detective Who Crossed the Line
Adriana Villela was promptly arrested (for a second time) in late 2010, this time formally accused of being the mastermind. In fact, she had already been briefly detained a few months earlier: in August 2010, before Leonardo was caught, Adriana and four others were arrested on charges of interfering with the investigation. Those four others were: Detective Martha Vargas (yes, the very first investigator, who by then was under suspicion of evidence tampering), Martha's police colleague José Augusto Alves, and the psychic Rosa Maria Jaques and her husband João Tocchetto.
It turned out that Martha Vargas's handling of the case was so problematic – with allegations that she had forged evidence and even tortured witnesses – that she herself became a target of the new investigation. The authorities believed Martha and her circle had "obstructed justice" by planting false leads (like that buried letter) to incriminate Adriana prematurely. So in a bizarre twist, August 2010 saw the daughter (Adriana), the psychic, and the original detective all behind bars briefly, accused of trying to derail the case.
Adriana insisted she was being set up by Martha Vargas, and in truth, evidence later confirmed that Detective Vargas had indeed engaged in serious misconduct. By 2016, Martha Vargas would be convicted and sentenced to 16 years in prison for fraud, evidence tampering, and torture related to the 113 South investigation. It was proven that she had planted false evidence and abused suspects in her zeal to implicate Adriana. This revelation cast a long shadow over the case: it gave Adriana's defense team ammunition to claim that all evidence against her was tainted by the initial corrupt investigation. We'll see how that played out in court.
But back to late 2010: With Leonardo's confession and presumably corroborating statements from Paulo and Mairlon (though their accounts would later waver), the Ministério Público (prosecutors) filed formal charges. In October 2010, a Brasília court accepted the indictment against Adriana Villela as the alleged mandante (mastermind) of the triple homicide. Alongside her, Leonardo Campos Alves, Paulo Cardoso Santana, and Francisco Mairlon Aguiar were indicted as the executors of the murders.
The charges were for qualified triple homicide (with aggravating factors like premeditation and cruel means), rather than simple robbery, since investigators by now firmly believed the theft was secondary to the deliberate killing plot. This meant the case would go to a Tribunal do Júri – a jury trial – which is how Brazil handles serious crimes against life.
However, Brazilian justice moves slowly, especially when defendants have resources to file appeals. Adriana Villela, through her prominent defense lawyers, began a long campaign to delay and avoid her day in court. In Brazil, even after an indictment, a defendant may not be immediately jailed if they were free pending trial and not considered a flight risk.
Adriana, being a first-time offender with no prior record, benefited from the system's caution. She had already spent a total of only about 19 days in jail (during that brief 2010 detention). After that, she was released on bail and remained free as the legal proceedings ground forward. Her defense team, led by the famous attorney Antonio Carlos de Almeida Castro ("Kakay") – well-known for defending politicians and the wealthy – filed motion after motion to challenge the indictment.
They attacked the credibility of Leonardo's confession, pointing out that some of the statements by the accomplices had later been retracted amid claims they were coerced by police torture. In fact, Paulo Santana and Francisco Mairlon at one point both recanted their confessions, saying they only admitted guilt (and implicated Adriana) because they were beaten or threatened by police in custody. This would become a key argument for the defense: that the physical perpetrators' testimonies could not be trusted due to alleged police abuse, especially considering the known misconduct by Detective Vargas earlier.
Years passed. While Leonardo, Paulo, and Mairlon languished in custody awaiting trial, Adriana lived relatively free, albeit under the cloud of accusation. She moved to Rio de Janeiro and continued her life as an artist, even enjoying half of her late parents' substantial estate (around R$10 million, or $2 million USD) – the other half went to her brother Augusto.
Here's an astonishing fact: unlike some jurisdictions where a person who kills their parents is automatically disinherited, Brazilian law at that time required another heir to initiate a legal action to strip the suspect of inheritance. Augusto Villela, Adriana's brother, never filed such action against her, perhaps not fully believing in her guilt or not wanting further family strife. By the time the law changed in 2017 to allow public prosecutors to pursue an heir's disinheritance in such cases, it was too late to apply retroactively to Adriana's situation.
Thus, to the outrage of many, Adriana Villela was effectively bankrolling her defense with the very money she inherited after her parents' death – all while the men convicted of carrying out the crime sat in prison. This glaring outcome – a convicted mastermind still spending the inheritance – drew comparisons to another infamous parricide case in Brazil, the Suzane von Richthofen case. Suzane, like Adriana, was convicted of orchestrating her parents' murder for money. But unlike Adriana, Suzane lost her claim to her parents' fortune thanks to proactive prosecutors in São Paulo. The contrast became a talking point about perceived impunity and legal loopholes.
Finally, after nearly a decade of legal maneuvers, the case moved to trial. Leonardo Campos Alves and Francisco Mairlon Aguiar went first, facing a jury in December 2013. By this time, they had been in custody for over four years. The jury deliberated and found both men guilty of the triple homicide. Leonardo was sentenced to 60 years in prison and Mairlon to 55 years.
These hefty sentences reflected multiple counts of murder and aggravating circumstances (Brazil's penal code allows sentences to stack in cases of multiple homicides, even though typically a single homicide might carry 12-30 years). Notably, the verdict affirmed that the crime was not a mere robbery – the jury agreed it was a planned killing, meaning these men were convicted essentially as contract killers rather than thieves.
'My Daughter, You're in This?!'
Three years later, in December 2016, the third alleged hitman, Paulo Cardoso Santana, was tried by a jury. Paulo's trial had been delayed perhaps due to additional evidence or separate proceedings (his defense may have tried to sever his case from the others). At his trial, Paulo apparently decided to speak more freely. According to subsequent reporting, Paulo Santana gave a detailed testimony that directly incriminated Adriana. He claimed that Adriana was present in the apartment at the time of the murders. This was a startling assertion, going even further than Leonardo's confession.
In Paulo's account, Adriana actually came to the apartment and confronted her parents as the killers began their attack. He described a scene of utter betrayal: José Guilherme Villela, seeing his daughter among the intruders, allegedly cried out in disbelief, "My daughter, you're in this?!". And according to Paulo, Adriana coldly responded, "I hate you! Go to hell, old man." Only moments later, Paulo recounted, the stabbing began and the living room was turned into a slaughterhouse. If true, those would have been José Villela's last words – a father's heartbreak and a daughter's venom.
This testimony, delivered publicly in court, was explosive. Observers in the courtroom saw Adriana smirk and shake her head as these accusations were aired, at one point letting out a bitter, ironic smile when a prosecutor repeated a story of her alleged past tantrums (like an incident where she destroyed an apartment her father bought for her simply because she disliked the decor).
To the prosecution, Paulo's account was the ultimate confirmation of Adriana's guilt. To the defense, it was pure fabrication, a last-ditch lie from a man trying to curry favor by telling the court what he thought they wanted to hear.
The jury believed Paulo. They convicted him and gave Paulo an even stiffer sentence: 62 years and 1 month in prison. With that, all three men accused of carrying out the 113 Sul murders were found guilty and sent to prison for decades – their combined sentences totaling nearly 177 years behind bars. At this point, one might have expected Adriana's trial to immediately follow. However, she managed to delay it further with more appeals. It wasn't until September 2019 – ten years after the crime – that Adriana Villela finally faced a jury of her peers in Brasília.
Ten Days in Court
The trial of Adriana Villela was one of the longest and most high-profile in the capital's history. It began on September 23, 2019, in a large auditorium at the Tribunal de Justiça of the DF, with throngs of journalists, law students, and curious citizens in attendance. Security was tight, and the atmosphere was charged – this was effectively the climax of a decade of suspense. The proceedings lasted ten days, encompassing over 100 hours of testimony and arguments, making it the longest jury trial ever held in Brasília's courts.
The prosecution called 17 witnesses, and the defense called 22 witnesses. The most anticipated testimony was that of Delegada Mabel de Faria, the lead investigator who built the case against Adriana. She spent a staggering nine to ten hours on the stand, walking the jury through every piece of evidence linking Adriana to the crime. Mabel explained how multiple threads converged on Adriana: the financial motive, the suspicious behavior, the physical evidence like fingerprints, and most damning, the confessions of the hitmen identifying Adriana as the one who ordered the murders.
She recounted for the jurors the story we heard from Paulo – the alleged confrontation and Adriana's chilling words to her father. Throughout this, Adriana sat at the defense table, mostly composed and taking notes, occasionally whispering to her attorneys. Observers noted she maintained a tranquil, stoic posture, rarely betraying emotion even when accusations became intense. Only once or twice did she react, with a faint nod or a sarcastic chuckle at something she found absurd in the prosecution's narrative.
Her defense, led by the renowned lawyer Kakay, fought vigorously. They highlighted that much of the case was circumstantial. There was no direct physical evidence like DNA or video proving she was at the murder scene – only fingerprints which could have been from an earlier date (after all, as a daughter she often visited her parents' home). They hammered on the fact that the initial investigation was compromised by Detective Martha Vargas's misconduct.
One of the defense's expert witnesses was a fingerprint expert who challenged the prosecution's claim that Adriana's prints could be time-stamped to the day of the crime. He argued that such precision was impossible and that those prints might have been there from any prior visit, meaning no solid forensic proof placed Adriana at the apartment on August 28, 2009. The defense also underscored inconsistencies in the hitmen's stories. For instance, Leonardo had changed his story; Paulo and Mairlon had recanted then unrecanated – in short, the credibility of these convicted murderers was suspect.
It didn't help the prosecution that Detective Vargas's malfeasance allowed the defense to insinuate that perhaps Leonardo was pressured to implicate Adriana as a way to neatly close the case after Vargas's own scheme fell apart. Kakay passionately told the jury that Adriana was a victim of a "conspiracy" by corrupt officers and opportunistic criminals. In his media statements, he called the case "um escândalo" – a scandal, arguing that there was no material evidence, only dubious testimonies against her.
After ten exhausting days, both sides delivered their closings. The jurors – four women and three men – retreated to deliberate, guided by the judge's instructions. In Brazilian jury trials, jurors answer a series of yes/no questions on whether the defendant is guilty of each charge. Late on the night of October 2, 2019, the verdict was announced: the jury found Adriana Villela guilty on all counts.
She was convicted as the mandante of the murders of her father, mother, and Francisca. The judge then pronounced the sentence decided by the jury's answers and the law's guidelines: 67 years and 6 months in prison, in a closed regime (no early parole). The courtroom was silent as Adriana received her fate. Eyewitnesses noted that Adriana did not visibly react – no tears, no outburst. She stood calmly, appearing resigned. Some said she even tried to console her defense lawyer who looked more upset than she did. After a decade, justice seemed to have prevailed for the Villela family and for Francisca.
However, the story doesn't quite end there. Under Brazilian law, even a jury conviction can be appealed, especially if the defense alleges procedural errors or that the verdict was against the weight of evidence. Adriana's legal team immediately filed appeals.
Convicted — But Still Free
In 2020, the Distrito Federal Court of Appeals reviewed the case and, while upholding the conviction, they made a slight adjustment to the sentence, reducing it to 61 years and 3 months. (This reduction might have been due to removing one of the aggravating factors or merging some counts – the details weren't widely publicized, but sources note the sentence was lowered on second instance review.) Crucially, the appeals court rejected the defense's claims of nullities: they found no miscarriage of justice significant enough to void the trial. They affirmed that the jury's verdict was indeed supported by the evidence.
Yet, despite the conviction being confirmed by the local appeals court, Adriana remained free. Here is where Brazil's legal system might surprise international listeners: Historically, a defendant in Brazil could remain free until all possible appeals were exhausted (all the way up to the Supreme Federal Court), unless they were detained pre-trial or the appeals courts specifically ordered imprisonment.
Adriana had consistently appeared at all hearings and had no prior record, so she was allowed to stay out of prison during her appeals – a fact that outraged the public and the prosecution. The prosecutors (MPDFT and even the federal MPF) petitioned to have her taken into custody immediately after the jury verdict, invoking a 2016 legal precedent (Supreme Court Tema 1.068) which permits imprisonment after a jury trial conviction, given the constitutional principle of the sovereignty of the jury's verdict.
But Adriana's defense managed to secure a stay. One appellate judge issued a "habeas corpus" allowing her to remain free until the Superior Tribunal of Justice (STJ) – Brazil's national high court for non-constitutional matters – could review the case.
As of early 2025, believe it or not, Adriana Villela is still not behind bars, pending the outcome of these final appeals. In March 2025, the STJ was scheduled to rule on her special appeal and the prosecution's request for immediate imprisonment. At a hearing on March 11, 2025, one STJ minister (judge) did vote to reject her appeals and enforce the sentence, but another minister issued a last-minute request for review (pedido de vista), delaying the decision by at least 60 days.
And so, more than 15 years after the crime, Adriana remains free on a technicality, living in Rio de Janeiro and, by some reports, even continuing to enjoy the wealth that her parents left behind. The three convicted hitmen, meanwhile, sit in the Papuda prison complex in Brasília, serving their long sentences. One of them, Francisco Mairlon, maintains that he is innocent – in 2023 he even enlisted the help of the Innocence Project Brazil, an NGO, after Paulo Santana reportedly recanted his testimony against Mairlon, saying he had falsely implicated him. It's a reminder that even within this tragic case, there are lingering doubts and loose ends.
Mairlon's claim is that he wasn't actually involved and that Leonardo and Paulo carried out the murders without him (meaning only two attackers, not three). That matter is under review, separate from Adriana's situation. Thus, the Caso Villela still generates headlines and debate to this day, proof that the reverberations of that bloody night in 2009 are not over.
The Crime of 113 Sul
The murders of José Guilherme Villela, Maria Villela, and Francisca da Silva became one of Brazil's most infamous true crime sagas – often compared in the media to the Richthofen case and dubbed the "Crime da 113 Sul" after the block in which it occurred. It's a case that encapsulates many elements of a dark thriller: a wealthy family, patricide allegations, bumbling (and even corrupt) investigators, psychics, hitmen from the countryside, a fortune at stake, and a justice system struggling to deliver a resolution.
But beyond the sensational aspects, it's important to remember the human tragedy at its core. Three people lost their lives in a horrifying way. José Guilherme Villela was a man who dedicated decades to law and justice – ironically, he became the victim of an injustice perpetrated by his own flesh and blood. Maria Villela was a mother and accomplished professional who doubtless never imagined her life would end violently at home.
And Francisca Nascimento da Silva – perhaps the most innocent of all – was a hardworking woman who simply had the grave misfortune of being in the wrong place at the wrong time, caught in a deadly plot. She was collateral damage in a scheme driven by greed. Her family members, who lived in a modest satellite town, were left not only bereaved but initially neglected – they didn't even receive Francisca's remains or belongings promptly, and for a time they feared speaking up, thinking the powerful might sweep her death under the rug. It took years, but eventually they saw those responsible convicted, giving them some measure of peace.
The case also highlighted some distinctive features of Brazilian law enforcement and justice for international observers. For one, the role of a jury in Brazil is limited to crimes like homicide. The Villela case went to a seven-person jury, whose decision is largely sovereign – meaning appellate courts cannot easily overturn it on factual grounds, only if there were legal errors. This is why, despite appeals, the focus has been on process, not re-arguing the facts.
Another aspect is the slow pace of justice when defendants exploit their rights to appeal at multiple levels (trial court, regional court, STJ, and Supreme Court). Adriana's continued freedom is a result of this multi-tiered system. Only recently have there been pushes to allow speedier incarceration after jury verdicts, precisely to avoid situations like this where a convicted murderer remains free for years. Additionally, the case shed light on police practices – the dangers of investigative misconduct.
The fact that Detective Martha Vargas actually went to prison for forging evidence and torturing suspects in this case is both alarming and a sign of accountability. It's rare to see a lead detective become a convict in her own case, but it underscores that the ends do not justify the means. Vargas's actions nearly derailed the pursuit of truth; ironically, by cutting corners to implicate Adriana early, she almost gave Adriana a perfect alibi – "I was framed." It was only through the perseverance of the second investigation team that the real perpetrators were caught, and even then the defense was able to prey on every mistake made.
One positive legacy is that the Distrito Federal's homicide division improved its protocols after this debacle, emphasizing the importance of solid, lawful evidence-gathering. The case has been studied in police training as an example of what not to do (in Martha's phase) and then how to properly course-correct an investigation (as Mabel de Faria's team did). Also, the involvement of the Innocence Project in re-evaluating a convict's claim of innocence (Mairlon's) shows a growing appetite in Brazil for ensuring no one wrongful is behind bars – even in high-profile cases where public opinion leans heavily towards guilt.
For the people of Brasília, the 113 Sul murders remain a grim cautionary tale. The very idea of a daughter plotting her parents' assassination is a profound taboo that fascinates and repels. In the neighborhoods of Asa Sul, some longtime residents still recall the panic of 2009 – rumors of a serial killer or home invaders before the culprits were identified. The case is often brought up whenever debates arise about the death penalty (which Brazil doesn't have) or about parental authority over adult children's finances. In a broader sense, it forced a conversation about greed, entitlement, and mental health.
If Adriana Villela truly did what the courts say she did, what drives a person to such an extreme? Was it sheer greed for a quicker inheritance? A deep-seated resentment after years of dependence and feeling controlled by her parents? Or some personality disorder that detached her from basic empathy? Those questions might never be fully answered.
Adriana herself has never confessed; she continues to proclaim her innocence, stating in a 2025 interview, "Yes, I had issues with my parents. But I didn't order them killed. I am not a monster". She insists the real killers pinned it on her to cut a deal, and that she's fighting not just for her freedom but "to restore my family's honor," as she puts it. Few outside her defense team seem to believe that narrative at this point, given the weight of evidence and convictions.
As we conclude, the Villela murder case serves as a stark reminder that truth can take a long time to emerge, especially when obscured by lies and misdirection. It took ten years to convict the mastermind and even now, legal technicalities delay final justice.
But in the end, the courts found that the trail of blood on that apartment floor led all the way to a daughter's hands. The final image the prosecutors left the jury with was haunting: an esteemed father, asking in despair "My own daughter, how could you?" – and a daughter with hatred in her eyes as the blade fell. It's an image that, if true, captures a horrific rupture of the natural order – parent and child, love turned lethal.
