Unholy Crusade

CHAPTER 13

The Road to Prison

ADAM closed his eyes again and tried to think. Between stabs of lain the events of the past few hours came back to him: Father Lopez springing his surprise after dinner that the ceremony was to take place that night; accompanying the priest along the path through the jungle from that normal, modern world of rich, travelling Americans at the Hacienda to enter another world of unbelievable fantasy, in which he was the ruler of the Toltecs; then the sudden realisation that things had gone wrong, that Alberuque and his followers had been betrayed; his plunging at breakneck speed down the steep pyramid and the blow from a truncheon that had knocked him out.

His mind then switched to the vision he had had while automatically making his speech. He had always accepted that his incarnations as a Viking and as a Toltec Prince had been different lives; now he knew them to have been one and felt that he should have realised that before. The history of the Norsemen, in which he had steeped himself during his teens, had left him in no doubt that, as a young man, he had started to rove the seas about A.D. 950, and the date given for Quetzalcoatl's arrival in Mexico was in the 960s. Obviously he could not have lived two different lives at the same time, and the fact that the legend that Quetzalcoatl had come up from the sea in the form of a giant white man, with; golden hair and beard, fitted perfectly with his having been a Viking.

So much for the past. What of the present? Grimly he contemplated his situation. His handcuffs made it plain that the police regarded him as a criminal and would bring a charge against him. Captured as he had been, just after making his speech and rigged out in all his gorgeous plumage, it was going to be difficult to refute an accusation of subversive activities. His only hope lay in Ramon, and he cursed himself now for not having let him know, somehow or other, that he had agreed to play the role of Quetzalcoatl. He would then have been in the clear. Still, Ramon could at least vouch for it that he had reported the ceremony at San Luis Caliente, and had promised to do his best to provide the authorities with further information.

He wondered then what had happened to the others. Still half absorbed by his vision and blinded by the spotlight, he was far from clear about what had taken place. Everything had happened very quickly. Not more than a minute had elapsed between the first shrilling of whistles and Father Lopez calling to him from the side of the temple to run. Yet when he had reached the bottom of the pyramid the congregation had vanished, to be replaced by the group of police. From the one glimpse he had had of the group as he hurtled downward, he thought there could not have been more than a dozen of them and he had heard no sounds of fighting further off; so it seemed that no attempt had been made to arrest as many as possible of the fleeing crowd.

But what about the rear of the pyramid? Although it had not been surrounded, another group of police might have arrived there, or seen the glow of light coming up from the Court of the Nuns and been in time to arrest Don Alberuque and his confederates before they could get away. There was only one thing Adam could be thankful for: that Chela had remained at the hotel, so she could not be caught up in this catastrophe.

The pain in his head had eased a little and he wondered where he was being taken. Probably, he thought, to Merida, as that was the only place for many miles round large enough to have a police headquarters. He noticed then that the car was going downhill. If he was right about the direction in which it was heading, that meant that it had not yet reached the long flat, stretch through the jungle; so he could not have been unconscious for many minutes probably only long enough for them to carry him to the car.

The thought crossed his mind that, if the car pulled up, he might perhaps make his escape; but he quickly abandoned that hope. A policeman was sitting on either side of him. They would almost certainly be armed and, although they were both small men, he was handcuffed; so any attempt to overcome them must prove hopeless. Miserably, he resigned himself to spending the rest of the night in a cell, being taken ignominiously back to Mexico City, then spending several days in prison before Ramon and Chela could procure his release.

The car had just passed through a large village and was entering the flat lands when it slowed down. The driver sounded his horn urgently, ran on another fifty yards, then pulled up. Peering forward through the windscreen, by the light of the headlamps Adam saw the reason. Lying down across the road and completely blocking it was a huddle of a dozen or more Indians.

He and the policeman sitting with him had hardly taken in the

fact when a tremendous shouting broke out and two other much larger groups of Indians emerged from the jungle on both sides of he road. In a human wave they threw themselves at the car and wrenched open the doors.

The two policemen had drawn their pistols. Before they had time to raise them, rough hands seized them, the driver and an officer who was sitting in front, by the arms and legs and dragged them out on to the road.

For a moment Adam remained where he was, dazed by the suddenness of the attack. Quickly recovering his wits, he shuffled his way out. Two other police cars had been following. They, too, were almost submerged under mobs of Indians. A single shot was fired, but no cry of pain came to tell that a bullet had found its mark. A solitary policeman succeeded in getting away into the jungle, then it was all over. As an ambush it had been a complete success.

Feeling slightly ridiculous, Adam stood in the middle of the road arrayed in his finery. The fighting had ceased, the Indians were binding the police hand and foot, then lifting them into the back of a lorry that had just driven up. A voice said behind, Adam

`Exalted One, permit me to introduce myself. I am Father Suarez, and your humble servant.'

Turning, Adam saw that he had been addressed by a man who did not look at all like a priest. He was a big, burly, red faced Mestizo with broken teeth. Adam began to stammer his thanks for having been rescued; but Father Suarez waved them aside, led him some way down the road, then along a cart track off it that ended after a hundred yards at a small, square, one roomed house.

It was empty except for a chair and a small table on which there were a candle, a bottle of tequila, a glass and a platter of

fruit. The priest apologised for not taking him to his own dwelling, on the grounds that even the glimpse his people had caught of, Adam would have made them tremendously excited, and he was anxious to avoid a demonstration in the village which might rouse from their sleep a few untrustworthy people who lived there. He then said that he must despatch a messenger to let. Adam's friends know that he had been rescued, but would return soon as was possible, with a file, so that Adam could be freed

from his handcuffs.

Left on his own, Adam clasped the bottle of tequila with both hands and awkwardly poured some into the glass. He did not much care for its flavour, but he badly needed a drink. Taken neat it was fiery stuff and, as it went down, he gasped and spluttered; but it warmed his stomach and soon afterwards he felt the better for it.

Sitting down, he began to speculate on what was likely to happen as a result of the new turn events had taken. Wryly he recalled his nickname of `Lucky' Gordon, and supposed that he was lucky to be sitting there a free man, instead of being still on his way to a cell in a police station. But for how long could he count on his luck holding?

It seemed obvious that his rescue could have been ordered only by Don Alberuque or Father Lopez, so either or both of them must have escaped arrest; although how they had managed to arrange so quickly for the ambush was puzzling. Anyway, it could be assumed that they would soon be on their way to pick him up.

What would they have planned to do with him? It was hardly likely that they would take him back to the Hacienda. There must still be police at Uxmal trying to find out all they could about the ceremony, and some of them might be questioning the staff at the hotel. The most likely alternative was a return to Mexico City, via Merida. But that, too, could be dangerous. It might be hours before the policeman who had escaped into the jungle could reach a telephone or find some motor vehicle to take him in to Merida; on the other hand, he might already have done so and be on his way there.

Once news of the ambush reached police headquarters, they would establish road blocks in the hope of recapturing the man who had played the part of Quetzalcoatl, and Adam's height, features and hair would make him easily identifiable to anyone who had his description. To keep him where he was would be even more risky as, by morning, it was certain that the village and its neighborhood would be swarming with police trying to find out where he had got to. At length he decided the most likely possibility was that they would spirit him away to some other hideout deep in the jungles of Yucatan.

The prospect was anything but pleasant, as he might have to remain there for weeks before it was safe for him to emerge. Almost it seemed better to give himself up and rely on Ramon to get him out of trouble. But to do that would also entail a nasty risk. The authorities might prove indifferent to anything Ramon had to say and, as a matter of policy, put Quetzalcoatl on trial, then award him a long prison sentence. In what better way could they knock the bottom out of the conspiracy? It was possible that if he turned `King's Evidence' they might let him off. But in that case what about Chela? If he gave her Monsignor away and utterly wrecked her hopes of bettering the lot of her beloved Indians, would she ever forgive him?

It occurred to him then that perhaps her hopes were already wrecked. Ramon had said that the authorities would not pounce until they knew who the leaders of the conspiracy were; yet they had struck that night. Possibly Don Alberuque was only one of the leaders and there were bigger fish in Mexico City who were not prepared to show themselves until the revolt actually started. If the government was now on to them the whole project was already a busted flush.

Adam sincerely hoped it was. If so, and the police could pull in and put on trial a number of prominent Mexican churchmen and Indian caciques, they might not greatly exert themselves to catch he unknown man who had been used to play Quetzalcoatl simply Because he had the right figure and colouring. Then, if he lay low for a while, once Chela had recovered from her disappointment they might go again to her little villa at Acapulco and resume their wonderful honeymoon, with this nightmare business no longer looming over them.

By the time Father Suarez returned Adam, although still greatly worried, was in a slightly happier frame of mind. The priest brought a file with him and set to work on the handcuffs. While he filed away, Adam asked him how it had been possible to prepare the ambush so quickly, and learned that he owed his liberty to the Father.

Suarez had been present at the ceremony. When the police had come on the scene he had not panicked but kept his wits about him. There had not been many police only three car loads of them although it was possible that others whom he had not seen had arrived simultaneously at the back of the pyramid. In any case, it had at once been obvious that the police were not sufficiently numerous to attempt anything against the congregation, but had come to arrest the principal participants in the ceremony. Having taken cover among the only group of stones n the immediate vicinity which, Adam recalled, were a dozen or so waist high phalli, the Father had seen him come plunging down he pyramid and realised that his capture was inevitable. Without losing a moment, under cover of darkness he had run the quarter of a mile to the place where he had left his motor cycle, jumped on it and driven, all out, back to his own village. There, feeling certain that if Adam survived his perilous descent the police would take him in to Merida, he had aroused his congregation and only just in time, prepared the ambush.

Having thanked him for the initiative and courage he had

displayed, Adam said, `I am worried, though, Father, about you and your people. When the authorities learn what happened it is certain that the police will return to your village and make things most unpleasant for all concerned. It might lead to you and a number of your parishioners being thrown into prison.'

The bulky priest shook his head and displayed his broken teeth in a grin as he replied, `I thank the Exalted One for his concern, but it is needless. While the scrimmage was taking place, your servant kept under cover so cannot be connected with the ambush. As for my people, everything took place so quickly, and in semidarkness. I feel sure that none of the police would be able to swear to the identity of any of the men who attacked them. They cannot even prove that it was the men of this village who laid the ambush. It might have been others summoned from their huts in the jungle by the mystic powers that many of our people still possess. At worst, too, the police have only been made fools of; and that they will keep to themselves. No harm was done to them. They have been taken by lorry and laid out on the roadside about fifteen miles away; when they get free of their bonds they will find their cars parked on the edge of the jungle quite near them.'

By this time Father Suarez had filed through one of the links that held the handcuffs together, so Adam was able to separate his hands; but the file was not strong enough to cut through the wristlets and he had to reconcile himself to continuing to wear them until a hacksaw could be procured.

About ten minutes later there came a knock on the door of the little house. The priest opened it to disclose an Indian. Behind him were Chela, Father Lopez and two other Indians, carrying suitcases. Entering the room, they all went down on their knees before Adam, and Father Lopez said a prayer of thanksgiving in Latin for the Man God's restoration to them. When he had finished Chela looked up, her dark eyes swimming with tears of joy. As Adam stretched out his hands and raised her to her feet, he could sense that she was longing to throw her arms round his neck; but in the presence of others it would not have been seemly for her to do so.

When she and Father Lopez had thanked Father Suarez for the great service he had rendered their cause, the Indians retired and the two suitcases were opened. The smaller belonged to Adam and contained a set of his own clothes; the larger was empty and had been brought to hold his robes. Chela retired while the two priests reverently divested him of them and assisted him to change into his well tailored suit.

While they were doing so he learned that a second group of

police had appeared in the rear of the pyramid. It was seeing hem that had caused Father Lopez to shout a warning to Adam. The small, plump priest had then made his escape by sliding perilously down the side of the pyramid, and had reached the bottom with nothing worse than some painful bruises. He had not since seen Don Alberuque or any of his confederates but, as no sounds if strife had come from the Court of the Nuns in which they were then disrobing, it was as good as certain that they had got safely away.

Adam then asked somewhat testily why, since there were comparatively few police and such a large congregation, no attempt lad been made either to prevent his arrest or rescue him. Somewhat shamefacedly, Father Lopez excused the congregation on the plea that they had been taken by surprise and could not know that many more police were not about to arrive on the scene. Moreover, they had been given strict orders that, in the event of police intervening in any secret gathering, they were to offer no resistance and at once disperse, so as to avoid a clash and bloodshed.

When Adam had changed, the bull necked Father Suarez led them back along the cart track to the road. A car with an Indian driver was waiting there. Having said good bye to Father Suarez they got into it. As the engine started up, Adam asked: `Where are you taking me?'

`Why, back to the Hacienda, of course,' Chela replied.

`But, surely, that would be dangerous?' he protested. 'The police are certain to have made enquiries there. If anyone has given them a description of me they will have tumbled to it that I am Quetzalcoatl. The odds are they wouldn't expect me to be daft enough to go back there; but, all the same, it's a good bet that they will have left a couple of men on the lookout to arrest me in case was so rash as to attempt to collect my belongings.' Chela shook her head. `If the police had meant to pay the Hacienda a visit they would have done so before Father Lopez and I left it. But they didn't, because they wouldn't expect the sort of people who stay there to have any connection with ancient secret rites. That also applies to you. It would never enter their leads that Quetzalcoatl was a British visitor.'

`The Senorita is right,' Father Lopez said. `Among the police we have a number of secret adherents from whom we receive information. Through them we know that the authorities believe that the Man God who appeared at San Luis Caliente was a tall, pale skinned Mestizo wearing a fair wig and false beard.' That did not square with the fact that Adam had told Ramon about his having had to save his life at San Luis by announcing that he was Quetzalcoatl; but it was possible that, for the present, Ramon had kept that to himself in order to ensure that no overzealous Police Chief interfered with Adam's movements and that among the force the belief just stated by Father Lopez had become current.

Adam was still far from happy at the idea of returning to the hacienda, but as no other plan had been thought of, there seemed no alternative; so he reluctantly allowed himself to be persuaded to agree.

Twenty minutes later the car set them down within a few hundred yards of the hotel. They walked down a slope that brought them to the bottom of the garden, then came up through it towards the hotel. It was then getting on for three o'clock in the morning and, except for a single light over the swimming pool, the hotel was in darkness. Chela went ahead to make certain that no one was about and a few minutes later returned to report that the coast was clear. Tiptoeing past the pool, they exchanged whispered good nights and went to their rooms.

Tired out from the strain he had been through, Adam threw his empty suitcase on the floor, pulled off his jacket and sat down heavily on the edge of his bed. He had hardly done so when Chela came in from the adjoining room, ran to him, flung herself into his arms, smothered his face with kisses and, between them, gasped

`Oh, my darling! My beloved! My treasure! What a ghastly night it has been. When Father Lopez got back here and told me that you had been arrested I thought I'd die. I've never spent such a terrible hour in my life as I did from then until Father Suarez's messenger arrived to let us know that you had been rescued. I spent the whole of the time on my knees, beseeching the Blessed Virgin to restore you to me.'

Adam returned her kisses only half heartedly and gave a rueful grin. `Well, maybe your prayers helped, my sweet. Anyhow, my luck was in again. I had some pretty nasty moments, though, and I'm feeling dead beat.'

`Of course, my precious. You must be,' she soothed him. `Let me help you get your clothes off, then you can flop into bed and get right off to sleep.'

Wearily he stood up and began to unbutton his trousers while she knelt down and untied his shoe laces. With a sigh he said, `Well, thank God this awful business is finished now, and in future we'll be able to lead a normal life.'

Looking up, she asked in a surprised voice, `What do you mean?'

Why, that there'll be no more of this dangerous tomfoolery. The police appearing on the scene tonight made it as clear as crystal that they've got the lowdown on your friends. By this time they will have pinched the Bishops and all the other high ups who were to lead the rebellion and have thrown them into jug.' Chela's eyes widened and she shook her head. `Darling, you quite mistaken about that. The Bishops are playing no part this. They don't even know of it. Neither do all but a very few of the white clergy. They wouldn't approve. We wouldn't dare trust them. Our strength lies in the Mestizo and Indian priests, who form the great majority and are the true leaders of the people. In them, and a handful of white Fathers who are devoted to our wonderful chief, Don Alberuque. No one in Mexico City will have been arrested tonight, because all our regional leaders were gathered here for the ceremony of “Recognition”. Now they have actually seen you, they will return to their people and redouble their faith in our cause.'

`Don't you believe it,' Adam retorted. `Some of them must have seen me arrested and lugged off by the police. The news of that will spread like wildfire and soon put a damper on their enthusiasm. Real Men Gods aren't taken into custody like common felons. They'll realise that I'm a Phoney.'

`But you are not, darling! You're not! You really were Quetzalcoatl and you are Quetzalcoatl returned to us today. If the police had got you in prison that might have made a difference. It might even have been disastrous if they were able to bring you to trial and sentence you, and it appeared in all the papers. But that can't happen now. The police won't dare admit to the Press about how they were ambushed and you were rescued. Our position now is stronger than ever. Tomorrow our grapevine will spread it all over the country that you were arrested, but the police were incapable of holding you and you made a miraculous escape. We have only to wait now for another ten days or a fortnight and…'

Suddenly Adam lost his temper. Scowling at her, he cried, `If that’s what you think, you can think again! I'm through with this mumbo jumbo through with it for good and all. At San Luis I near as damn it lost my life, and to save it was forced to the revolting act of tearing out the heart of a pig. Tonight I'm lucky not to be locked up in a cell and awaiting a trial that could land me in prison for the best years of my life. God knows I love you a woman; but to hell with your scheming priests and barbarous, bloody minded Indians. The lot of them can rot as far as I am concerned.'

Slowly she came to her feet. The blood had drained from beneath her coffee coloured skin. For a moment she could not find words, then she gasped

`I can't believe it! You promised! You can't go back on your word.'

`I can,' he retorted harshly. `And I mean to. I've never approved of this business. It can bring only death and misery to thousands of people. You are crazy to believe otherwise. I'm through, I tell you. Through! Now leave me to get some rest.'

Large tears began to seep from her eyes. Without another word she turned on her heel and, with faltering steps, stumbled away to her room.

In the morning he woke, to find her standing beside his bed. She looked thoroughly washed out and very sad. In a low voice she said, `Darling, I want to talk to you.'

He sighed and replied, `Yes, I suppose you do.' Then he raised one of his hands that still had a handcuff encircling the wrist. `But first I'd like you to find some way of getting these things off me.'

She nodded. `Yes; but to do that I'll need a hacksaw. I doubt if they would have a tool like that here. If not, I'll have to get a car to drive me into Merida and buy one. That will take me the best part of three hours.'

`Thanks, my sweet.' He took her hand and kissed it. `I'm afraid that's the only thing for it. But I can do with another nap.'

She kissed him on the forehead and said, `I'll be back as soon as I can.' Then, with a pale smile, she turned and left him.

He dozed for about an hour, then was roused by a sharp knock on the door. Thinking it was probably Father Lopez, he called `Entrada,'. The door opened and three policemen marched in.

Adam's brain instantly began to seethe with apprehension. Had the police got on to him, or was this only a routine enquiry to find out whether the guests at the hotel could furnish any information about the doings of the previous night?

The officer who led the party asked abruptly, `You are Senor Gordon?'

Raising himself on one elbow, Adam replied, `Yes; yes, I am.' `I have authority to question you. Please answer promptly. Are you of British nationality?'

`Yes.'

`How long have you been staying at the hotel?' `Two nights.'

`From where did you come?'

`From Merida.'

`Did you arrive alone?'

`No, with a lady.' Adam's mind became a shade easier. Evidently they could not know much about him or he would not be asked such routine questions.

`Her name?'

`The Senorita Chela Enriquez.'

`While here have you talked with any of the other visitors?' Adam swiftly decided that it would be inadvisable to mention either Lopez; but he and Chela had dropped into conversation with some Americans in the bar, so he was able to reply truthfully, `Yes, a few.'

`Name them.'

`Sorry; I can't. I suppose we did exchange names, but they…they don't register when making casual acquaintances.' `What time did you go to bed last night?'

`A little before midnight.'

`And the Senorita?'

`About the same time.'

`Did you sleep together?'

`No! Certainly not!' Adam flared. `And what the hell has that do with you anyway?'

The officer shrugged. `In Mexico, when a gentleman travels one with a single lady, it is customary for him to sleep with her. Where is her room?'

`Next door,' Adam admitted grudgingly.

`Is she there now?'

`How should I know?'

His heavy boots smacking loudly on the floorboards, the officer marched over to the communicating door, found it unlocked, turned to grin at Adam and flung it open.

`No, she is not there. Very well. You will now get up, dress yourself and come with us.'

The order was so ominous that it caused Adam sudden renewed alarm. Were they on to him after all? Was his rescue by Father Suarez to prove of no avail? Endeavouring to mask his acute anxiety by an angry frown, he shouted, 'Why? What right have you to make me leave this room?'

'It is because your appearance tallies with the description of a man who last night masqueraded as the Man God Quetzalcoatl; and we wish to question you further.'

The blow had fallen, but Adam burst out, `What nonsense! I am a British visitor to Mexico. A score of people will vouch for my bona fides.'

`That we shall see,' said the officer harshly. `Get up.' `What if I refuse?' Adam demanded truculently.

The only reply the officer made was to draw his pistol, point it and repeat, `Get up.'

Adam was near panic, but he knew that his only hope was to remain where he was. Feeling confident that the officer would not shoot him where he lay, he stuck out his bearded chin and cried defiantly, `I'm damned if I will. Go to hell.'

With a sweep of his pistol the officer signed to the two men behind him and barked, `Get him up.'

One of the men stepped forward, grasped the single sheet under which Adam had slept and wrenched it off. He was lying at full length, clad only in his pyjama jacket, and the sleeves were not long enough to hide the tell tale handcuffs that proclaimed his guilt.

The officer grinned. `So we were right. Senor Gordon, I arrest you for subversive activities.'