Unholy Crusade

CHAPTER 14

A Living Nightmare

In utter desperation Adam decided to resist arrest. All three policemen were small men. With three blows of his great fists he could knock them out. They were so close to him that they had no room to manoeuvre. Only the officer had drawn his pistol and one of his men now stood between him and Adam. The man could be smashed back on to him, with luck the gun would be knocked from his hand. The third man would receive the second blow Before he had time to draw his weapon. Taken by surprise all three could be overcome in a matter of seconds.

Swinging his legs off the bed, Adam came to his full height. His fists clenched, then relaxed. Suddenly he sat down again. It could have been done and with little risk of a bullet. But what then? He was nearly naked and it would have been madness to leave by the window like that. He would have to bind and gag them all, dress and collect his money before making his escape. The fight would cause a racket; before he could gag them it was certain that one or more of them would be yelling for help. Even if their cries did not bring a crowd of other people on the scene, where could he go once he had left the hotel? He would only get himself hopelessly lost in the jungle.

Glowering at the officer, he said, `All right. I'll come with you. but first I must have a bath.'

`No time for that,' came the sharp reply. `Get dressed at once, or I will take you as you are.'

Ignoring the command, Adam walked over to the basin, cleaned its teeth and washed. Then he began to dress. Meanwhile the two policemen were packing his other clothes and belongings into his suitcases. As soon as he had finished dressing, one of the men snapped another pair of handcuffs over his wrists.

`How about paying my bill?' he asked.

`The manacles will not prevent your signing a traveler’s cheque,' was the reply. Ignominiously they led him along past the swimming pool and the curious stares of other guests to the office. there he asked for Chela's bill as well as his own and paid both.

`So you knew that the Senorita had left the hotel?' the officer remarked.

`Yes,' he admitted. `Where are you taking me?'

`To Police Headquarters in Merida. Do you wish to leave a message for her?'

`No. She will not be coming back,' Adam lied. But he had achieved his object. The desk clerk had heard the conversation and would pass it on to Chela.

The officer shrugged. `Whether she returns or not, we'll soon pick her up.'

Adam's heart sank still further on learning that Chela was to be pulled in, and he wondered whether they knew how deeply she was involved in the conspiracy. Even if her father could later arrange for her release, it looked now as though she would have to spend some time in gaol and the thought of his beautiful beloved confined, ill fed and treated as a convict, depressed him unutterably.

Outside, a police car and chauffeur were waiting. The officer put him in the back between himself and one of his men; the other man was left at the hotel, presumably to arrest Chela if she returned there.

Twenty minutes later they passed through the village near which the ambush had taken place, but this time there was no ambush. As against that, there were no signs of anything unusual having occurred there that morning; so it looked as though the police had realised the futility of carrying out an investigation among its inhabitants. For their sakes and that of the courageous Father Suarez, Adam prayed that might be so.

At the Police Headquarters in Merida general particulars about him were entered in a register and he was then locked in a cell. It was reasonably clean, but starkly comfortless. In the early afternoon he was brought a meal of tortillas and chili peppers which were so fiercely hot that he could hardly get them down, and in the evening another meal of tortillas and beans. Otherwise he was left there all day, with nothing to occupy his mind except his gloomy thoughts.

Soon after eight o'clock he was called out of his cell and, with an escort of the officer who had arrested him and another policeman, taken to the airport.

When he had arrived there with Chela five nights earlier they had been whisked away so efficiently by the porter from the Pan Americana that Adam had not realised what a miserable little place it was. Although the city of Merida had two hundred thousand inhabitants to Oaxaca’s seventy five thousand, the airport at the former was less than one third the size of that at the latter. It was

now packed with people, nine out of ten of whom must have been

killing time by seeing off the limited number of people who could travel by the evening plane.

Adam estimated that there must be at least two hundred men, women and children jammed into the small waiting hall, and it had only three chairs. Under the electric lights it was intolerably hot, everyone was sweating freely and numerous mosquitoes were pinging and stinging about people's faces and necks. Every time one of the little pests settled on Adam he was unable to disturb it without displaying his handcuffs and, he was so much taller than neighbours, he soon became the fascinated focus of most pairs of eyes in the room. His efforts to get at the back of his neck caused great amusement and the little Indian children were held up by their elders to join in the fun. If anything could have possibly added to his misery it was an announcement, made after he had been standing pressed in the smelly crush for some twenty minutes, that the aircraft had been delayed and it would be another, hour before it took off.

The natives did not appear at all concerned, but seemed to welcome the information as extended time for a social gathering. They continued to chatter away happily and laugh hilariously each time a local humorist displayed his wit at poor Adam's expense.

At last this taste of what the Black Hole of Calcutta must have been like came to an end. Almost in a state of collapse, Adam was led out to the plane. To gasp in the clean night air was an incredible relief. But the plane had no heating and he was dressed only tropical clothes; so, soon after it had taken off, he was shivering with cold. It struck him that he might get pneumonia, but by then he was too weary to care. With wry humour it occurred to him that if he ever got round to writing his book with a Mexican background he would be able to portray a very different side of it such places as the luxury of the El Presidente Hotel. A few minutes later he fell asleep and did not wake up until they reached Mexico City.

As they had arrived on an internal flight, there were no formalities at the airport and Adam's suitcases were identified and handed over to his escort without delay, whereas had he been on his own he would have had to slip the baggage man ten pesos as the only alternative to kicking his heels for a quarter of an hour. He was then taken to Police Headquarters, a drive of little more than two miles from the airport, as it lay in the Plaza de los Presidentes on the eastern outskirts of the city.

There he was duly checked in and locked in a cell. By then it as close on midnight. The previous night he had not got to bed

until past three in the morning; the strain of the long, anxious day and the nightmare he had gone through at the Merida airport had left him like a limp rag, and his hour's sleep in the plane had done nothing to refresh him. Regardless of the brick like pillow, he gratefully stretched himself out on the truckle bed and pulled the solitary, tattered blanket over him.

But he was not to be allowed to occupy his hard couch for long. He had been asleep for less than a quarter of an hour when the steel door of his cell was thrown open with a clang and he was ordered out. A brawny warder with the face of an ex pugilist took him up some stairs to an office which had the appearance of being occupied by someone of importance. Behind a big desk sat a squat, bald man who, from his uniform and several rows of medal ribbons, Adam judged to be a Police Chief. With him was a younger man with a very sharp nose, dressed in plain clothes: evidently a detective.

The Police Chief told Adam to sit down opposite him and opened the proceedings by saying, `Senor Gordon. We know all about you, so it would be pointless to tell us any lies. If you speak the truth we will make things much easier for you. Now I want you to give us in your own words an account of everything you have done since you arrived in Mexico on January 2nd.'

Adam had known that, sooner or later, he would have to face an interrogation, but he had had ample time while sitting in the cell in Merida to think out the line of action he would take.

'Su Excellencia, aqui estd mi declaration,' he began. `I have no wish to be obstructive. However, I am known to Senor Ramon Enriquez of your Foreign Office Security Department. If you will send for him tomorrow I will tell him everything I know.'

The Police Chief smiled. `I am glad, senor, to find that you are willing to co operate. But the Senor Enriquez will pass on to me anything you tell him, so there is no point in waiting until tomorrow. And in this matter time is precious. I pray you, confide in me.'

`I regret, Excellencia.' Adam shook his head. `My mind is made up. I will discuss my situation only with the Senor Enriquez.'

For some minutes longer the Police Chief endeavoured to cajole him into talking. Then, as Adam made no reply and sat there staring at his large feet, he said testily to the detective, `Oh, take him away, Mejia, and give him the treatment.'

The words were ominous. Into Adam's tired brain there flickered terrifying images of people being plunged into ice cold baths, beaten with flexible steel rods, and other horrors perpetrated by the Nazis. Endeavouring to fight down his fears, he went with

Mejia to a room on another floor. It was sparsely furnished with table and hard chairs. An adjustable electric light with a cone shaped shade hung from the centre of the ceiling. The detective told Adam to sit down at one end of the table and adjusted the light so that it shone into his eyes. He then spoke into an old fashioned house telephone fixed to the wall.

After about five minutes another plain clothes man, a fair haired Mexican, appeared. With him was a woman carrying a notebook obviously a stenographer. Adam was quite fascinated by the narrowness of Mejia's pointed nose as the light shone on it; but next moment the others took places on either side of Adam, and Mejia, sitting down opposite him, said sharply:

`I understand that you have had a long and unusually distressing day. All of us here have been on duty for many hours; so we, too, would like to go to bed. Please therefore be sensible and do not keep us up all night. Your statement, please. Adam employed the same tactics as he had in the Police Chief's office. he kept his mouth tightly shut and his eyes lowered to the table. Even so, the strong light from the lamp focused on him partially penetrated his eyelids, giving them a rosy glow.

How long the session lasted he had no idea. Every few minutes one of the detectives shot a question at him. At times he fell asleep and slumped forward on to the table. Each time he did so the fair haired young man stood up and shook him into wakefulness. they used no brutality, but the glare of the light was in itself a torture. At last he could stand it no more. Woken for the tenth time, he lurched to his feet, grasped the edge of the table in his great hands, lifted and heaved it right over. Mejia was sent flying backward and temporarily pinned to the floor. The other two went to his rescue, while shouting abuse at Adam over their shoulders. But he did not hear it. Utterly exhausted, he, too, had slumped to the floor and lay there unconscious.

He woke next morning in his cell. His bleak surroundings Brought the events of the previous day and night flooding back to him. Turning over on the truckle bed, he groaned aloud. Grimily, he realised that had it not been for Chela he would never have landed himself in this ghastly mess. Almost he was inclined to curse her. But he loved her. She had given him greater happiness than he had ever believed it possible for a woman to give a man. But why, oh why, had the fates imbued her with this damnable fanaticism? She was sweet and gentle, but another side of her was completely ruthless. Under the influence of the sinister

Don Alberuque it seemed that she would stick at nothing to further their cause. That she loved him in her fashion he had no

doubt, but she had not had the least scruple about using him. And now that the conspiracy had been nipped in the bud by his arrest, what could the future hold for either of them? For him, unless Ramon could get him out, years of imprisonment. For her, since she was so deeply religious, her bitter disappointment at the failure of her plans might well lead her to take the veil and busy herself for life in a convent.

In due course he was brought tortillas with a mess of onions, and later more tortillas with tomatoes. All day he hoped that he would be sent for to be interviewed by Ramon and, alternatively, dreaded that he would be summoned to undergo another grilling. But no one came to fetch him and for hour after hour he lay on the bed, a prey to black despair.

That night he slept fitfully, being more conscious of the much colder climate now that he was again at an altitude of seven thousand five hundred feet. In the morning he washed as best he could in the bucket provided, then again lay down with his anxieties revolving in his mind like a squirrel in a cage.

It was about eleven o'clock when the warder who looked like an ex pugilist came for him. He was taken to another bleak room. Ramon was standing there, and the warder left them alone together.

He greeted Ramon with a pale smile. Ramon did not return it. Instead he regarded Adam with an angry stare and exclaimed, `So you ratted on me! You bloody fool!

`No!' Adam protested. `I didn't. I swear I didn't.'

`Oh yes, you did. It was clear as crystal that you had fallen for Chela. She twisted you round her little finger and persuaded you to play the part of Quetzalcoatl. Well, you've asked for it and you'll get it. Ten years in gaol.'

Adam quailed at the thought of such an awful prospect; but temper came to his aid and he burst out angrily, `If that happens, it will be you who have let me in for it. It was you who persuaded me to act as your cat's paw and go spy the land for you during my motor trip. Damn it, owing to you I was nearly murdered by that mob at San Luis. And on my return I reported everything I had found out. You can't deny that.'

`No,' Ramon admitted, his expression still hard. `I don't. But since that, you've played the turncoat. Chela was with you at Uxmal and you posed for her as Quetzalcoatl. Explain that if you can.'

`I can. I was working on the line I promised you I would: playing along with her to find out for you what I could. But the trouble was that I couldn't get in touch with you to let you know what was being planned.'

`What! Do you mean to tell me that a whole fortnight went by and you were so busy that you couldn't find a moment to ring me up. I don't believe you.'

`It's true; though.' Adam felt that he could not give away the fact that he had spent most of that time honeymooning with Chela, so he went on rather unconvincingly, `For eight days I was held… well… incommunicado. Then I was taken down to Uxmal. You must know how difficult it is to get a call through from there to Mexico City. Before I had a chance this thing was sprung upon me. I was faced with the choice of either playing along or throwing in my hand. What would you have done?'

It was now Ramon who seemed a little uncertain. `I… well, I suppose I would have done as you did. But it still doesn't explain why you didn't tip me off.'

`Damn it, man, I've already told you! I was never left alone for a moment. If I had been caught telephoning to you I would have been rumbled. They would have smelled a rat, changed their plans and, perhaps, bumped me off. And this is all the thanks I get for risking my neck on your behalf! For ingratitude you take the cake. I have been counting on you to get me out of here.'

`If I could believe you, of course I would. But I'm not certain that I do. Give me the names of the ringleaders in this conspiracy and perhaps I might.'

`Don Alberuque is the king pin. His principal lieutenant is a Father Lopez.'

Ramon gave a cynical laugh. `Do you take me for a simpleton? Alberuque is a clever and important man, but he is not a Prince of the Church. This is an attempt by the Church to regain her temporal power in Mexico by using these half baked Indians. It is the names of the prelates we want the really big boys who are behind this thing.'

`You are barking up the wrong tree,' Adam replied earnestly. `I'm convinced that they are not involved. They know nothing about it. With a very few exceptions, this revolt is to be led by Mestizos and Indian clergy who are still half pagan and besotted with superstition.'

`I very much doubt that. It's much more likely that the wool has been pulled over your eyes and that those who stand to gain most if the revolution came off are still keeping under cover.'

Adam shrugged. `Well, you've got another fortnight or three weeks in which to find out. The party at Uxmal was only what they termed a ceremony of Recognition, held so that local leaders

from all over the country could vouch for it that they had seen Quetzalcoatl in the flesh with their own eyes. They are back in

their towns and villages by now, spreading the good word. But that is going to take time. The plan was that I should not appear again until everything was ready, and that when I did it should be the signal for the balloon to go up.'

'Then it never will go up,' Ramon gave a sardonic smile, `because, for a long time to come, you will be sweating it out as a convict in a labour gang. Having been idiot enough to incite these people to revolt, that is the price you will have to pay.'

`Thanks,' Adam retorted bitterly. 'But at least I'll have one consolation. That scheming bastard Alberuque will be wielding a pick beside me.'

Maybe; but quite possibly not. The government's policy is the less said about this thing the better. Alberuque has not been pulled in yet, nor anyone else except yourself. And that was not intended. The Police Chief down at Merida was a bit over zealous. Information about your party reached him only at the last moment. He could not raise enough police on the nod to rope in the whole congregation; so he sent the few he could lay his hands on, with orders to ignore everything else and concentrate on bringing in the principal performer. As you were the star of the show, they naturally went all out to get you.'

`I see. Then I, although an innocent party, am booked to carry the can for all those who are really guilty?'

`That's what it looks like. If you are innocent and I'm still inclined to doubt it. There will be no fuss or bother. You will be tried in camera and quietly put away for a term of years.'

`You can't mean that!' Adam cried desperately. `You can't. I am innocent, I swear I am.'

Ramon shook his curly head. `You may swear until you are blue in the face that you are; but you are not. I'll grant that you may not have intended to provoke a civil war, but the fact is that you made a speech calling on the people to overthrow the government. You can't laugh that off and, even if I would, I couldn't help you. What is coming to you is the price you must pay for having let Chela make use of you.'

Adam had gone white. In a low voice he said, 'Chela; what has become of her?'

`Oh, Chela's all right,' Ramon shrugged. `I had to fly up to Monterrey on Wednesday, otherwise I would have come to see you yesterday. But I got back last night and saw Chela dancing at the jacaranda. She may be a bit peeved about having lost your services, but she didn't show it.' After a moment he pressed a bell and added, `I don't think there is any more to be said, so I'll have you taken down to your cell.'

Utterly stricken, Adam allowed himself to be led away. As ion as the door of his cell had been locked behind him, he sat down on his truckle bed and buried his head in his hands. Too late, he realised what a lunatic he had been not to let Ramon know that he had agreed to act as Quetzalcoatl. If he had really set his wits to work on the problem he could surely have found some excuse to use the telephone which would have fooled Chela. It occurred to him now that he could have said that he had to phone the British Embassy, have got on to Jeremy Hunterscombe, and asked him to give Ramon a simple message such as `Gordon has agreed to play principal lead'. In retrospect, it also seemed probable that his fears of the postal censorship had been greatly exaggerated and that he could easily have got off a letter before setting out for Merida. But the fact was that he had been too absorbed in his love affair with Chela to give the matter serious thought or realise its importance. Then, when it was too late, he had been pushed into his act without even five minutes' warning. The thought of a ten year sentence in a Mexican prison was to awful to contemplate; but Ramon had been right in saying that, even if his intention had been to make a further report on he progress of the conspiracy as soon as he had a chance, the fact remained that he had made a speech to its leaders from all over he country, inciting them to revolt.

He wondered for a moment whether he could plead insanity, but dismissed the idea at once. He could not bring a tittle of evidence to show that he had ever been abnormal, so no doctor would certify him.

Added to his tormented speculations concerning his future was what Ramon had said about Chela. How could she go out and dance at a night club, knowing him to be in prison and about to face a trial the outcome of which was almost certain to be that they would never see one another again?

He recalled their bitter quarrel when, after his rescue by Father Suarez he had flatly refused to continue playing the part of Quetzalcoatl. It must be that she had decided to break with him on that account. Yet from the fierce passion of her embraces and unvarying sweetness towards him at Oaxaca, Acapulco and at Uxmal, he could have sworn that she loved him. Perhaps she had, but only in so far as was possible to her on account of her nature. she was twenty six and had freely admitted that she had been the mistress of other men. It might well be that her hot Indian blood craved constant sexual satisfaction and that she had been sleeping with a succession of men ever since her teens. That possibility was reinforced by the fact that her mother had deliberately left her

native village to enter on a life of vice, and in such matters heredity often played a decisive part. If the reason for Chela's conduct was that she was secretly a nymphomaniac, it followed that, having lost one lover, she would soon seek another. Perhaps then, knowing that an arbitrary end had been put to their affair, although she had loved him after her fashion, she had decided that the best way to get him out of her mind was to go dancing with some other man. It was even possible that she had slept with him.

The mental picture of her doing with some new lover the sort of things she had done with him caused Adam suddenly to be stricken with almost insane jealousy. He wrung his hands and groaned aloud. The long hours of the day that followed were the worst he had ever spent.

Night fell at last, but he could not sleep. In vain he endeavoured to quieten his mind with thoughts of other things; but persistently they returned to himself, spending endless months in prison, barely existing on coarse, monotonous food, forced to slave at some uncongenial task and, for his only companions, ignorant, brutalized felons from among the scum of the earth. Alternatively he thought of Chela, moaning with passionate enjoyment beneath some muscular young man.

The hours dragged on until, close on midnight, a key grated in the lock of his cell. Starting up as the door opened, he saw the battered face of the gorilla like warder. The mail told him in a gruff voice that he was wanted upstairs.

With a sigh, he left the bed, tidied himself as best he could and went out into the passage, wondering why he had been summoned. It could hardly be that they wanted to interrogate him again, as Ramon already knew all there was to know about his case.

Then he hit upon it. Ramon had said that there was to be no publicity and he was to be tried in camera. Evidently such secret courts were held at night. There would be no prolonged arguments; at best only a stooge would have been nominated to plead on his behalf. He could ask to be allowed to get in touch with the British Embassy, but he thought it unlikely that his request would be granted. The odds were that, within an hour, he would be back in his cell; tried, convicted and with his life in ruins.