Unholy Crusade

CHAPTER 15

In the Toils

THE warder took Adam upstairs to the room in which he had first been interrogated. The squat, bald Police Chief was there behind its desk and with him was Ramon, seated in an armchair smoking a cigar. He nodded to Adam, waved a hand towards his companion and said, `I think you have already met General Gomez, our Chief of Police for the Federal District.' Gomez then greeted Adam with ominous politeness, told him to sit down and went on

`You must be aware, Senor Gordon, that you are facing a very serious charge. For subversive activities a sentence can be given of up to ten years with, I may add, hard labour. Of your guilt here can be no possible doubt. My colleague in Merida infiltrated two Mestizos and a mulatto into your organization. They will testify to the speech you made, inciting to rebellion the considerable number of people who attended the meeting. Our prisons in Mexico are efficiently run, but I cannot too strongly stress that an educated man like yourself, who has been accustomed to every comfort, will find life in one of them almost unbelievably unpleasant.'

When he paused, Adam said bitterly, `As a writer with some imagination I do not need to be impressed about that. However, Before you bring me to trial, I demand that my Embassy should be informed. Without inviting serious trouble, you cannot ignore the right of a British subject to receive advice from a lawyer appointed by his Embassy and to be defended by him.'

The General smiled. `We do not intend to bring you to trial senor at least, not yet. I was speaking only of possible eventualities.'

Having let that sink in, he went on, `I have discussed your case very fully with Senor Enriquez. It was only this evening that I learned from him about the tour through several of our towns that you made a few weeks ago, and that during it you voluntarily gathered such information as you could for him about the conspiracy. Of course, I already knew all about the affair at San Luis Caliente; but through some oversight our Foreign Office failed to inform me of how you came to participate in it.'

New hope surged up in Adam. Hardly able to believe that after

all. there was a chance of his escaping imprisonment, he held his breath while G6mez took his time over lighting a cigar.

When the end was burning evenly, he said:

`The fact that at San Luis you nearly lost your life while working for us, and were compelled to act as a sacrificial priest in order to save it, puts a different complexion on matters; and I now take a much more favorable view of your case.'

`You…' Adam choked. 'You mean you're going to let me go?'

`Well; we shall see about that.'

'Su Excellencia, I beg you to! I swear that I was equally innocent in the affair at Uxmal. I had to go through with it if I was to stand any chance at all of securing further information for Senor Enriquez.'

`But you haven't,' Ramon put in. `Except for that of Don Alberuque, which was known to us already, you have not furnished us with the name of a single person of importance.'

`I couldn't; because there are none,' Adam flung at him. 'No Bishops and very few white priests are involved. I'm certain of that.'

`You cannot be certain. You may be lying or your informant may have been lying to you.'

`It was divulged to me during a highly emotional scene, in which there could have been no premeditation to deceive me.'

The Police Chief held up a plump, beringed hand. `Enough, senores. Let us get back to the present situation. As I see it, to begin with, Senor Gordon, being convinced that as a humanitarian it was his duty to do what he could to save this country from the horrors of a civil war, worked loyally to that end. Later there is reason to believe that he was persuaded to change his views and allow his likeness to the god Quetzalcoatl to be used by the conspirators. But we have no proof that his explanation for having done so is not the truth. Should we not, therefore, give him the benefit of the doubt?'

`Yes,' Ramon nodded. `I think we should.'

Adam was almost sobbing with relief. `Oh God be thanked!' he exclaimed. `And thank you both. As soon as I'm free tomorrow if there is a seat on a plane I'll leave Mexico. I meant to stay a good while longer, but I'll willingly cut short my visit so that you can be quite certain that these people have no chance to use me again.'

`Senor Gordon, you go too fast,' Gomez said smoothly. `As the Senor Enriquez has just remarked, we are by no means satisfied that none of the higher clergy are involved in this. We are going

to rely on you to find out for us if that really is so, and any further clans the conspirators may have.'

`No, please!' Adam violently shook his head. `I've had enough of this. More than enough. Think what I've suffered already as a result of getting mixed up in this business.'

Ramon smiled at him. `Yes, I'm afraid you've been through some very nasty experiences since you agreed to give me your help; and I'm sorry about that. But I'm afraid, Gordon, that you don't realise your position.'

`Exactly,' added the General, his voice suddenly hardening, and I had better make it clear. We can bring and prove a charge of subversive activity against you that will send you to prison for ten years. And that is what we shall do if you refuse us your aid.'

Adam's shoulders sagged and he said unhappily, `Then I've no alternative.'

`I'm glad, senor, that you realise it. And, after all, if you have been telling the truth, you have never deviated from your wish to help prevent an outbreak that would inevitably lead to the loss of many lives.'

`That is so, Excellencia. Very well. Tell me how you want me to set about it and I'll do my best. But wait a minute! Surely my hands are tied by the fact that they know I have been arrested? If you let me go, it's certain they'll tumble to it that your price for

releasing me was my agreeing to act as your stool pigeon.'

The Police Chief drew heavily on his cigar, then said quietly, We shall take measures to guard against that. At a conference this evening it was agreed to modify our policy of hushing things up. In the circumstances arising from your arrest, we decided that the severest blow we could deal the conspirators would be to treat their movement with contempt. But it would be unrealistic 'to turn you free at once, so I am afraid you will still have to go to prison.'

As Adam's face fell, he went on, `But not for long. You will be tried in camera to protect our agents who will give evidence against you. In your defence it will be stated that you are a crazy Englishman with a love of practical joking, and that some of your friends having remarked on your likeness to descriptions of Quetzalcoatl, you decided to play a prank on some gullible Indians. The charge will be reduced to one of “disturbing the peace”, and you will be sentenced to fourteen days in the upper division. As you will already have served four, you will be out in ten. The Press will be given a hand out of your trial, and its publication should result in discrediting the rumour that the Man God has returned to Mexico. That will put a damper on all but the most fanatical of the potential revolutionaries and greatly reduce their following. It will then be up to you to make contact at once with Alberuque and find out all you can for us.'

Having no option but to co operate, Adam felt that he could do himself no good by sulking; so to `show willing', he said, `I congratulate you, Excellencia, on your plan. It will not only give me a clean bill, but should do great damage to the movement.'

Ramon stood up, laid a hand on Adam's shoulder and said cheerfully

`Now, Gordon, feeling confident that you would be sensible and accept the situation, we have a little surprise for you. I'm sure that in these past few days you must have found the prison food far from agreeable; but at least we can provide you with one good meal. We would like you to join us for supper.'

The Police Chief threw open the door to an adjoining room, smiled and gestured to Adam to precede him. It was a conference room. At one end of the long table three places had been laid, and on a sideboard against one wall was set out an admirable cold collation. At the sight of it Adam suddenly felt ravenous, but when he helped himself he controlled his impulse to be greedy. Noticing his restraint, Ramon laughed and piled more food on his plate, while Gomez poured him a glass of French burgundy.

Within a few minutes the whole atmosphere had changed. Quite suddenly, it came upon Adam that, although he had been coerced into helping the authorities, it was the right thing to do. At first sight he had intensely disliked Alberuque and there could be no question about his being a trouble maker of the first order. At all costs he must be prevented from misleading the wretched Indians, Negroes and Mestizos into throwing their lives away in clashes with well armed troops.

As they ate and drank, the three of them discussed the situation freely as friends willingly united in a cause. Urged on by the others, Adam ate supper enough for four and, when he rose from the table, carried a whole bottle of good wine beneath his belt.

Returning to the other room they all shook hands, then Gomez rang for the warder. Before he arrived, Ramon took Adam out into the passage and said to him in a low voice, `Don't worry about Chela. She has been absolutely miserable since she returned from Uxmal. I can't possibly let her in on it that you will be free in ten days, but I can assure you she will be overjoyed at seeing you.'

Adam returned to his cell a different man and, in spite of the rock like pillow, fell happily into a dreamless sleep.

In the morning he was brought up to a small courtroom inside the Police Headquarters. Neither the Police Chief nor Ramon was present, but the trial lasted barely ten minutes and followed he lines Adam had been told to expect. Later in the day he was conveyed several miles in a closed van to a prison that lay some where on the outskirts of the city. There particulars of him were again taken. To his considerable relief he was then allowed to have the first bath he had had since he had left Uxmal, and afterwards was escorted to a clean cell furnished with an iron bedstead, with sheets as well as a blanket, a table and a chair. From the warder, who seemed a decent man, he learned that its fellow prisoners were nearly all Mexicans: business men who had committed fraud or sexual offences, debtors and opponents of the government who had aired their views too loudly; also that they were given two hours' exercise a day, one in the morning end one in the afternoon, and that he could draw three books a week from the prison library. Far more surprising, he was informed by the warder that if he was married or had a girl friend the lady would be allowed to visit him once a week, and that rooms were provided in which for an hour they could enjoy themselves in private.

Giving the Mexican government full marks for its humanity and wise precaution against the spread of homosexuality, Adam resigned himself without anxiety to his ten days in prison.

Next day was Sunday. So much had happened to him recently that he found it almost impossible to believe that only a week had elapsed since he had spent a happy, carefree day with Chela, rambling round the ruins at Chichen Itza.

He was thinking of her late in the afternoon when the warder game to tell him that he had a visitor. Recalling the lenient regulations regarding the prisoners and women, his heart leapt it the thought that Chela would have learned through the morning papers what had happened to him and had come to see him. For who else could it be?

On reaching a small reception room, he suffered a sharp disappointment. His visitor was not Chela, but Jeremy Hunterscombe. When they had greeted each other, they were locked in the room, and sat down on two of the hard chairs set round a bare table. The lanky Wing Commander brushed up his flowing moustache and said:

`Well, chum, you've landed yourself in a fine mess. Read all about it in the paper this morning. You'll remember I told you what was cooking and asked you to play along with these revolutionaries, then give me the lowdown on what they were up to?'

`Yes,' Adam admitted, `and I refused to spy for you on my friends.'

`Fair enough, dear boy, But that's one thing, and it's quite another to have allowed them to use you as their stalking horse. Of course, Chela is quite a wench and at times we all make fools of ourselves over women. But really! To let them dress you up like a peacock, then to spout a lot of Marxist stuff to a mob of yahoos…'

`What is done, is done,' said Adam testily. `Maybe I behaved stupidly but, anyhow, the authorities have let me off lightly.'

`By Jove, they have. You might have been picking the old oakum or sewing mail bags for a term of years. Someone once told me you had been nicknamed “Lucky” Gordon. Seems jolly apt to me. Still, that's beside the point. In nine days you'll be out of here, but persona non grata with the Mexican government. That means you'll have to shake the dust of this country off your brogues and pronto. At the Embassy it is part of our job to look after British subjects; even when they do behave like nuts. So I've dropped in to offer the old Austin Reed service: get you a reservation on an aircraft, arrange to collect you in a car and see you safely on your way to England, Home and Beauty.'

`It's very good of you,' Adam replied. `But as it happens, I shan't be leaving Mexico.'

Hunterscombe gave a slightly superior smile. `Dear boy, I hate to disillusion you, but you certainly will. The Mexican government apart, H.E. has expressed his desire for your absence. Strange as it may sound to your evidently Marxist ears, we don't want British subjects here who are likely to embarrass us by advocating the overthrow of the regime; and your passport will in future be endorsed “not valid” for entry into Mexico. Believe me, chum, the skids are under you and, like it or not, you've got to quit.'

Although at their last meeting Adam had assured Ramon and General Gomez of his co operation, the willingness he had shown had been mainly inspired by his relief at escaping a long prison sentence. Since then, he had had ample time to contemplate the matter in a more sober light. Reluctant as he was to forgo any prospect of renewing his affaire with Chela, he would have given a great deal to be freed from his dangerous obligation. But he realised that he had no choice, so he said

`I wish to goodness that when I am released from prison I could go straight on board an aircraft and get out of this bloody country. But His Excellency's desire to be rid of me will cut no ice. The Mexicans wouldn't let me go.'

`Why shouldn't they?'

`Because they've got me on a hook. They're blackmailing me.'

The devil they are!' Hunterscombe frowned; then, after a moment, said:

Now look, Gordon. I don't care what you've done and you had better come clean with me. As I said, it is up to us to do what we for you, and there is no one else to whom you can turn for help; so tell all.'

Adam gave an unhappy nod. `Yes, you're right. Well, this is what happened. Although I refused to spy on my friends for you, I was later persuaded by Ramon Enriquez to find out what I could about this revolutionary movement. What followed we need not go into until we come to my arrest down at Uxmal. That would never have taken place if the Police Chief at Merida had been put in the picture. But he wasn't, and being an eager beaver he, he had me pulled in. The big boys here have been pretty smart, though. They could treat me either as a criminal or a practical joker, and I was given the choice. Naturally, I preferred ten days to ten years, but the price was that, when I came out, should work for them again.'

Well, I'll be damned!' The Wing Commander's lean face broke into a grin. `So you are now Richard Hannay, Gregory Sallust and Uncle Tom Cobley and all.' His face suddenly became serious. `But this is a dangerous game you're playing, and your pals in the Mexican Security set up won't equip you against emergencies. I mean, real secret agents don't have daggers that spring out of the toes of their shoes, cars that eject flame and tin tacks in the path of their pursuers, and all those other silly, amusing gadgets that one reads about in the Bond books. It is only countries such as this, where it is not illegal to tote a gun that a chap can even do that without risk of getting himself pinched.' 'I see no reason why anything I do should lead to a gun battle,' Adam replied. `All I mean to do is turn in anything I pick up; t I'm damned if I'll stick my neck out for Enriquez and Co.' `That's what you think. But you're in this thing now and, like or not, you'll have to. That is, unless you want to be framed on some other charge and popped back into prison for keeps. Gun battles apart, if the plotters tumble to it that you are double crossing them they will have hoodlums around who, at a nod, could stick a knife into you quicker than you could take the first sip of a dry Martini. Look, chum, this is your show and your old uncle Jeremy has no wish to cramp your style. But you are an amateur a Babe in the Wood going in against a pack of wolves. I bet the Crown jewels against a handful of peanuts that, before you are much older, you are going to land yourself in real trouble. Your Mexican pals are only putting you in on the off chance that you'll pull the chestnuts out of the fire for them. They won't lose a wink of sleep if this ends in your kicking the bucket. But you're one of us; so I will. If you do find yourself in a spot, get on to me. I'm used to nasty situations and if anything can be done to pull you out I'll do it.'

`Thanks,' Adam smiled. `That's very good of you. If I do need help, how do I bring my “Uncle Jeremy” racing to the rescue?'

Hunterscombe fished a small notebook out of his pocket, wrote in it, tore the page out and handed it to Adam. `There is the address of my flat and my telephone number. Below it is the Embassy number. For most of the twenty four hours you'll be able to get me at one or the other. If you can't, leave a message for me; but don't use your own name. Let's see. Who was that bloodthirsty character in your last book? I've got it. Ord the Red Handed. Use Red. That's more common than Ord. Lots of people nicknamed Red. Don't give any details unless you're quite certain the line isn't likely to be tapped. Just say where you are and I'll be along as soon as I can make it.'

As Adam thanked him again, he added, `Better memorize the info' on that slip of paper, then destroy it. No need to swallow it, though, as they do in thrillers. Just give it a good chew, then spit it out into your slop bucket.'

When the Wing Commander had gone, Adam spent the best part of an hour repeating to himself over and over again the address and telephone numbers until he was quite certain that they would stick in his memory; then he got rid of the paper.

Since he had so peremptorily turned down Hunterscombe's request for his help when they had lunched together at the Ritz, he thought it very decent of him to show such concern for his safety now that he had admitted to working for Ramon. All the same, it seemed unlikely that a situation could arise in which he would need to avail himself of the Wing Commander's offer. Before he left prison it was certain that Ramon would furnish him with the means of communication for anything urgent; so, if he did find himself up against it, and was able to appeal for help, it would obviously be more effective to call in the police rather than the solitary secret agent of a foreign country.

On the Monday, while at exercise, he scraped acquaintance with two other prisoners and, in whispered conversations, learned that one was a defaulting lawyer and the other a rich brothel owner who had refused certain highly placed person’s free access to his house and, as a result, had been framed. Of himself he said that he was in on a short sentence for dangerous driving. By Tuesday, the prison grapevine had picked up an account in the

Sunday papers of the arrest of an Englishman caught posing for a joke as Quetzalcoatl; which explained an absurd but persistent

rumour recently running round the country that the Man God had returned and appeared to a crowd of Indians at both San Luis Caliente and Uxmal. Adam gathered that his physical characteristics, coupled with the date of his arrival at the prison, had led his fellow prisoners to conclude that he was the practical joker concerned; but their opportunities for questioning him were few, and he refused to satisfy their curiosity.

It was in the early hours of Wednesday morning that he was

roused by the sound of an explosion. A few minutes later it was followed by the ringing of an alarm bell, shots and loud shouting. sitting up in bed, he wondered what on earth could be happening.

The pandemonium continued: single shots, the rat tat tat of sub machine guns, yells and curses. Flying feet pounded down he corridor outside his cell. A shot was fired, there came a scream and the footsteps ceased abruptly. More curses, loud protests growling voices now outside the cell. A key turned in the lock end the door swung open.

Adam's warder was pushed inside. His face was white, his right arm hung limp at his side, dripping blood. He was followed by a huge Negro and three Indians with long, matted hair. The Negro grinned at Adam and said in a travesty of Spanish:

`You're free now, Lord. Jus' you come wi' us.' Then, turning to one of the Indians, he waved a hand towards the warder and added, Jacko, yoo know what t'do wid dis guy. G'ie 'im de works.'

Two of the Indians pushed the wounded man down on to the bed from which Adam had just got up and the one named Jacko grasped him by the throat. Seeing that he was about to strangle him, Adam cried

'Hi! Stop that

The Negro shook his head. `He gotta die, Lord. Yo'se free now. Yo' come along wid us.'

`But damn' it,' Adam exclaimed furiously, `he's already wounded. He can't do you any harm. It's senseless murder.' Turning, he grabbed the collar of Jacko's jacket in an attempt to lull him off.

As he wrenched, Jacko's head was jerked up, but he did not release his grip on the warder's throat. By then the wretched man's eyes were starting from their sockets and he was turning purple in the face.

Unhappily the big Negro stood by watching for a moment, apparently reluctant to intervene. Suddenly making up his mind,

he grasped Adam from behind by both arms, and wailed, `Forgi' me, Lord fo' touchin' yo. But Ah can't let yo. Ah gotta obey orders. Dey was ter croak de keysman an' git yo outa here.'

A furious struggle ensued. Adam hung on to Jacko's collar until, with a loud, rending sound, the thin cotton fabric tore. By then Adam's pull on Jacko and the latter's on the warder's neck had lifted them both. With a thump they fell back on the bed. His arms being held from behind by the Negro placed Adam at a big disadvantage. The other two Indians lent a hand. Despite his efforts, the three of them succeeded in pulling him away, pushing him through the doorway, then dragging him along the corridor. At its end, realising that by now the warder must be beyond anything except medical help, he gave up trying to break free.

Still held by his captors, he was hustled through the prisoners' dining room. Another warder lay there with his throat cut. In the corridor beyond it a third warder lay sprawled on his face, while a Mestizo who had taken his keys was swiftly unlocking cell doors to release the prisoners. Out in the main hall a battle was raging. A dozen coloureds of all shades were blazing off with pistols and sub machine guns at the upper floors. Prison officers on the high galleries round the staircase were exposing themselves only for the minimum of time, but long enough to return the fire of the raiders. On the stone flags lay several dead or wounded. One man had his hands clutched to his stomach and was screaming horribly.

Outside, the courtyard was a shambles, Not only was it littered with dead or dying prison officers and Indians. Adam nearly tripped over a body; then, looking down, saw by a beam of light coming from the hall that the face was that of his new acquaintance, the brothel keeper. A moment later, to his horror, he saw that a group of coloureds was shooting down the white Mexican prisoners as they poured out from a side door of the prison believing that they had been restored to liberty.

When he reached the prison gate, one half of it was flat, the other hanging crookedly on its hinges after having been blown open. Outside, there were a dozen cars and small vans. Adam's escort ran him over to one of the cars, he was pushed into the back, the two Indians scrambled in after him and the Negro got into the driver's seat. There came a whirring of the self starter, a screech of gears changed too quickly and they were off.

As far as Adam could see, the suburb in which the prison lay consisted of some rows of small, uniform, modern houses, a short row of one storey shops and empty back lots. The blowing in of

the prison gates and subsequent shooting had roused the inhabitants. There were lights in most of the windows and people leaning out of them, calling excitedly to one another. A few had come out onto the sidewalks; but no attempt was made to stop the car.

It was driven for some miles out into the country, returned to the city by a circuitous route, ran out again through a good class district of scattered houses, then through some narrow, twisting lanes, to swerve between gateposts set in a high wall and up a sort drive.

Adam had strong suspicions why he had been `sprung' from prison while the other white prisoners were being shot down, for who but Alberuque would have ordered half a hundred mixed coloureds to attack it for the sole purpose of rescuing him? But he could not be absolutely certain of that, and he felt far from safe in the hands of his murderous captors. As they all got out of the it he had half a mind to attempt to escape. But a swift glance towards the gates showed him that another man, who had evidently been waiting there, was shutting them. That made the odds against him four to one, and the men who had carried him from the prison were armed. Uneasily, he resigned himself to putting as good a face as possible on the situation. The car had pulled up in front of the porch of a rambling old house. A light went on, showing up the fanlight over the door. It as opened by a tall man in a monk's habit. His garb at once strengthened Adam's suspicion about the reason for his kidnapping. The lay brother, as he turned out to be, bowed and stood aide for Adam to enter. As he did so, a gabble of words behind caused him to look over his shoulder. Instead of following him in, his escort had gone down on their knees, and the big Negro was mumbling apologies for their having laid hands on his sacred person.

The hall of the house was austerely furnished. On one wall there hung a large wooden crucifix, with a holy water stoup below it; on the other a few cheap religious prints. The stone staircase that led to the floors above was uncarpeted.

Bowing again, the lay brother waved a hand towards the stairs then led the way up. In the light of the hall, Adam had had his first sight of the man's face. It was that of an ascetic who had insistently mortified his flesh and fasted for long periods. The skin was drawn so tightly over the bones that his head looked most like a skull, and the dark eyes were sunken in their sockets. Adam had expected that on the first floor he would be shown to a study in which he would find Don Alberuque awaiting him; but his guide went up a second flight of dimly lit stairs to the top of the house, signed to him to wait for a moment on the landing, then went into one of the rooms and lit an oil lamp.

Following him in, Adam saw that it was a bedroom and a far from comfortable one. The single bed sagged in the middle and had no valance; there was a prie dieu against one wall, a single, hard bottomed chair and an old fashioned wooden washstand carrying a china jug and basin. The only accommodation for clothes was some hooks behind a faced curtain that screened off one corner of the room.

Many years earlier, the government had deprived the Church of all the great historic monasteries; but recently religious communities had, in limited numbers, been allowed to establish themselves in private houses, and Adam felt little doubt that it was to a small monastery that he had been brought.

Convinced that Alberuque was responsible for this terrible night's work, Adam could hardly contain his impatience to come face to face with him. The fact that he was committed to attempt to worm the Monsignor's future intentions out of him had been completely pushed out of his mind by his sick horror at the massacre he had witnessed. He was inwardly boiling to such an extent that for two pins he would have killed the instigator of that shocking butchery. But, at the least, he meant to shake him like a rat, slap his face until it was purple, then at the first opportunity have him charged with instigating murder. Turning to the lay brother, he asked, `Where is Monsignor Alberuque?'

The man shook his skull like head, fished a tablet and stylo out from a pocket in his gown and wrote on it: `Not here. He will see you tomorrow.'

It was only then that Adam realised that the man was dumb. Thwarted in giving vent to his anger, he shrugged his shoulders and turned away. Unseen by him, the lay brother left the room and locked the door behind him.

At the sound of the key turning, Adam swung round, strode over to the door, grasped the handle and shook it. Certain now that it was locked, he pounded furiously upon it with his fist, shouting to his new gaoler that, unless he returned and unlocked it, he would later wring his neck; but there was no response.

Still seething with rage, he marched over to the window, wrenched aside the flimsy curtain and saw that the window was barred. Suddenly his sense of humour overcame his resentment. He was again a prisoner, but to confine him in such a prison was ridiculous. With his great strength he could have wrenched out the rusty grille of thin iron bars or have smashed down the door.

He was in half a mind to break out there and then, but on second thoughts decided not to. He had no idea where he was and he might be miles from the centre of Mexico City. If he did leave the house he had not a peso on him with which to telephone Ramon. Tomorrow, he decided, would be time enough to have a showdown with Alberuque, then quit.

The ancient bed was not as uncomfortable as it looked. Never the less he slept badly, haunted by dreams which were grotesque distortions of the brutal slayings he had witnessed in the prison courtyard.

He woke with a calmer mind and was able to assess better the cults of the courses of action open to him. Of one thing he was )w fully determined. At whatever risk to himself, he must do s utmost to wreck the conspiracy.

To begin with, Chela's persuasiveness had led him to believe that the revolution would rescue the Indians from the miserable conditions under which they had lived for so long and that it could be accomplished almost bloodlessly. Hunterscombe and then Ramon had convinced him that it must lead to a sanguinary civil war; so he had taken the side which aimed at preserving law and order. Later, again under Chela's influence, he had allowed himself to be used as Quetzalcoatl; but only because he had fallen for the idea that, as the titular head of the revolt, he would be able to prevent his followers from committing excesses, and with the mental reservation that, by letting Ramon know the plans of the conspirators, he would still stop the whole thing if he could. After his arrest he had again agreed to work for the government, but only because he had been blackmailed. He had resented that intensely, cursing the day that he had first become involved and of a mind to do only as much as would ensure regaining his freedom. But now a new situation had arisen. The attack on the prison the previous night had convinced him beyond all doubt that a revolution would lead to a blood bath. The fanatical Indians and half breeds would murder every white man they could lay their hands on. Once they got the bit between their teeth, no leader would be able to control them. So the outbreak must be stopped while there was still time.

But how to set about it? If he followed his inclination to beat Alberuque to a pulp, then denounce him to the police that might it an end to the conspiracy. But if Ramon and General Gomez were right it would not, because they believed him to be only a front' for the higher clergy who were at the bottom of the business. Adam doubted that to be true, but admitted to himself that was up to him to try to find out, and he certainly would stand no chance of doing so if he used violence on the Monsignor.

At about nine o'clock the lay brother brought him a pot of weak chocolate, plain, cold tortillas and fruit. Adam tried the chocolate and found it to be a thin, bitter drink, quite unlike the rich, sweet brew that his mother had at times made for her family when he was a boy in Scotland. For the past week he had been unable to take his Enteroviaform pills and had at first feared that tummy trouble, or even dysentery, might result from the prison food. But he had taken the precaution of eating only fruit that could be peeled, and suffered no ill effects from the cooked messes that had been his staple diet. Now he left the tortillas and ate only a big orange and two mandarines.

His gaoler had not brought him any hot water; so, on getting up, he made do with the cold in the china jug and washed as well as he could with a small square of yellow kitchen soap. Then, having dressed, he sat down to await events.

As his watch, together with all his other belongings, had been taken from him when he had first been arrested, he had no means of telling the time. Actually an hour and a half elapsed, although it seemed much longer, before the lay brother returned and signed to him to follow him downstairs.

On his way down he passed four monks. Their heads were downcast and they deliberately avoided looking at him. Earlier, a chapel bell had reinforced his belief that the place was a monastery. But in the hall two very unmonastic characters were lounging. They were Indians and both of them were wearing soiled leather belts from which hung pistol holsters. On seeing Adam they went down on their knees, but, even so, he had little doubt that they had orders to stop him if he attempted to walk out, and would have obeyed them.

The lay brother opened a door at one side of the hall, bowed to Adam and signed to him to enter. The room into which he walked was long and lofty. Two thirds of the walls were lined with bookshelves. The books on them were old, their calf bindings faded and, in many cases torn. Behind a desk at the far end of the room sat Monsignor Don Alberuque.

Although for just on a month he had been frequently in Adam's thoughts, this was only the second time they had met; so he took stock of his enemy with special interest. Alberuque was wearing clerical clothes a black, satin vest and a white lawn cravat which, with the darkish, high nosed face framed in the sleekly falling silver hair, gave him an air of distinction. Under the bushy black eyebrows his eyes seemed curiously dead and fishlike. His lips parted, showing slightly uneven teeth, in a smile of welcome; but the smile did not reach his eyes. The effect was almost is though he had been a Zombie.

Again Adam had the queer sensation that his hackles were rising in the presence of a spirit which reeked of evil. How Chela could remain insensitive to it, and regard Alberuque as almost a saint, Adam could not conceive. Fighting down his intense dislike, he managed to greet the priest with a civil `Buenos dias'.

Rising from his chair, Alberuque returned the greeting and, as he continued to speak, it was borne in on Adam that his voice must account for much of the influence he wielded over people. Its tones were extraordinarily harmonious and, coupled with his charm of manner, gave him an almost hypnotic attraction. It must be, Adam thought, that my dislike of him is a personal thing, not felt by others. Meanwhile the Monsignor was saying:

`Senor Gordon, please accept my apologies for receiving you in such an austere abode. I do not live here but my home is not unlike it. Few foreigners, other than scholars, realise that Spain escaped large numbers of her people being suborned by the Protestant heresy because our Church had already been cleansed by Queen Isabella's great adviser, Cardinal Ximenez de Cisneros. He put a stop to the sale of indulgences and other unethical practices, purged the priesthood of its drones and lechers and gave preferment only to those who led useful, saintly lives. In Mexico the clergy have followed that fine tradition, so you must excuse the poor accommodation and indifferent food with which you have been provided.'

Impatiently, Adam heard him out, but he could not resist remarking acidly, `That may apply to the lower orders here; but you showed no reluctance to lap up the caviare and champagne when we were together at Cuernavaca.'

`When in Rome, my son. When in Rome… you must know the rest of that quotation. It would ill become me to embarrass my flock by refusing the good things offered at their tables. But that is of no moment. I am most happy to welcome you to this poor house where, at least, you can remain safely concealed; and I rejoice that my endeavours resulted in my restoring you to freedom.'

Adam had meant to keep his temper, but at that it flared and he burst out, `Happy! Your endeavours! My freedom! Do you realise that a score, perhaps two score, men were killed or grievously injured to achieve it?'

`Indeed I do,' Alberuque replied quietly. `But the revolution must go on. And you have become an essential element in its fulfillment. That you should continue to play your part as

Quetzalcoatl is imperative. To ensure your being able to do so, the loss of a few lives, however regrettable, is unimportant.'

`But damn it, man,' Adam shouted, `how can you calmly sit there and say that? If you thought it an ace high priority to get me out, it is just possible to understand your having squared it with your conscience to be the cause of the death of a few unfortunate warders. But that gang of mixed coloured hoodlums you let loose on the place murdered every white man they could lay their hands on: prisoners as well as prison officers.'

`You must make allowances.' The Monsignor spread out his hands and hunched his shoulders. `For centuries, in spite of the Church doing her best to protect them, the coloured people of Mexico have endured great suffering at the hands of the gachupines and their descendants. Given an opportunity, it is only to be expected that they would take their revenge.'

His eyes gone hard, Adam demanded, `Am I to understand that what happened last night at the prison is the pattern for the revolution you are planning? That there is to be a wholesale massacre of the white population?'

Alberuque shook his head and the silver locks falling about his ears danced a little. `I trust not. Once we have triumphed, we shall do our utmost to prevent excesses.'

Adam said scathingly, `What chance will you have against tens of thousands of Indians and half breeds gone berserk? Go on with this and I'll tell you how it will end. They will string you up to a lamp post. And serve you damn' well right.'

`Your sentiments are singularly unfriendly.' Alberuque observed coldly. `But no matter. You will give us your co operation. I am in a position to ensure that you will.'

`No doubt you think so,' Adam retorted. `But if I were you I wouldn't count on that.'

With a slightly amused smile, Alberuque said, `I am well aware that I could not, had I not had you removed from prison.' `That will make no difference.'

It will make a great deal of difference. With an astuteness that one can but admire, the government wrote you off as a practical joker of no account and sentenced you to only fourteen days' imprisonment. In a week's time you would have come out. What would you have done then?'

Suddenly Adam realised that his violent temper and dislike of Alberuque had led him into adopting an attitude the very opposite to that he should have taken. Berating himself as the worst possible secret agent, he made an effort to retrieve the situation

by replying:

`I would have gone to the Senorita Chela and offered to resume my role as Quetzalcoatl.'

Alberuque's thin lips drew back in a snarl. `Oh no, you would not! You lie! You would have done nothing of the sort. You would have left Mexico on the first aircraft in which you could get a passage.'

`What leads you to think that?'

`I am certain of it. On your last night in Uxmal, after Father Suarez had rescued you from the police, you had a bitter quarrel with the Senorita Chela. You told her that you were through with this whole business. That nothing would induce you to appear again as Quetzalcoatl. That is why I had you taken from prison. I can now ensure that you will remain with us and, when the time comes, again appear before my people as the Man God.'

These angry exchanges and Alberuque's disclosure of his distrust finally cut the ground from under Adam's original intention of appearing to give his co operation willingly. His resentment at this threat of coercion led him to set his jaw stubbornly and declare, `You can't force me to.'

`Indeed, Senor Gordon, I can.' The Monsignor's voice had become honeyed again. `You seem to have forgotten what took place last night. With the assistance of some fifty raiders, you broke out of prison. Owing to this plot, of which it will be assumed that you had knowledge, a number of people lost their lives. For that the government will hold you, in part, responsible. But there is much more to it than that. During the riot an unfortunate warder took refuge in your cell and, to save himself, locked himself in with you. What happened then? In order to gain your freedom you needed his keys. To get them, you strangled him.'

'You swine!' Adam roared. `That is a filthy lie! I did my utmost to prevent his being murdered by your thug Jacko.'

Again Alberuque's uneven teeth showed in a smile. `I am aware of that. But who will believe you? My big Negro and his companions are prepared to swear that, when they succeeded with another key, in getting into your cell, they saw you choking the warder to death.'

He paused for a moment, then went on with silky satisfaction, `Refuse to obey my orders, Senor Gordon, and I will turn you over to the police. My people will give evidence against you. And I will tell you what will happen then. As there is no capital punishment in Mexico, you will be sentenced to life imprisonment. But do not imagine that, as in England, by good conduct you will be freed in time to enjoy a happy middle and old age. Here we are not so soft with murderers who have killed without provocation.

Such dangerous and useless mouths are not allowed to remain a charge upon the taxpayers. After a week or two a small paragraph will appear in the papers, simply stating that “Senor Gordon was shot while attempting to escape”.'

Again the smooth voice stopped, then went on softly, `But I am confident that you are much too sensible to bring upon yourself such a premature and unpleasant end. Instead, you will appear again to a chosen audience as the Man God, Quetzalcoatl. After you have done that, I shall have no more use for you.'

Adam realised then that he had been caught in the toils of this arch conspirator. Next moment as, disconcerted, he stared at Alberuque, his heart was gripped with awful fear. The reason for his instinctive loathing for the man had suddenly been revealed to him. Those cold, dead, fishlike eyes were the eyes of the High Priest, Itzechuatl, from whom Mirolitlit had saved him. And in those eyes there again lay the threat of death.