First opened to the public last December (2008), this former detention and torture center is on a quiet, residential block of Virrey Cevallos in Buenos Aires, adjoined on three sides by other domestic residences. Nearly sold to a private buyer, it was reclaimed by the neighborhood, which now works for its preservation and documentation. Our visit was guided by Leonardo Surraco, who told us what they've learned about this little-known detention center.

Built in 1906, Virrey Cevallos was originally a private residence, before it was donated to the state in 1938 and made into a police headquarters. During the military dictatorship, its functions were expanded to include counter-intelligence activities and use as a detention center.

So far, only five witnesses have provided testimony on what took place in this building, though the Vecinos have hopes of speaking with two more witnesses in the near future. Even those witnesses, though, are limited by the fact that their testimony is based exclusively on what they heard and felt. We don't know how many prisoners passed through Virrey Cevallos, but it does appear that it was primarily used as a distribution center, with many prisoners interrogated here and then passed on.

The prisoner's experience here was similar to that in many other detention and torture centers in Argentina and Chile. Typically 15 security agents came to abduct the target, who had been denounced to the police by a source or operative. The new prisoner was subdued, blindfolded, tossed into the Ford Falcon, and driven through the garage door into Virrey Cevallos.

Upon arrival, the prisoner was taken to the first torture room, strapped into a metal bed, and shocked with an electric prod. Prisoner cells were located in the back of the second floor; inside, prisoners were chained at all times to metal bars running along the walls. To eat, they only received leftovers like pizza crust from guards; one detainee lost 52 pounds of weight during his brief detainment here. Police ensured that the prisoners were sleep deprived. In winter, they doused the victims with cold water at 3am.

Summing things up, Leonardo explained that while we know a great deal about the system, we don't know much about what happened once the doors closed. "A great silence surrounds this place..."

How can it be that, out of all of the men and women who worked for the military government in Virrey Cevallos, none of them has stepped forward to provide testimony on what took place? Without hesitation, a woman performing forensic work on the first floor turned and said, "Silencio mafioso."

However, even mafia members have started talking over the last two decades. For now, the Vecinos will see what stories the building has to tell.