Unholy Crusade

CHAPTER 7

Our Man' in Mexico

IT WAS nine o'clock when Adam was roused by a soft footed valet pulling open the slats of the Venetian blinds so that sunlight streamed into the room. As Adam sat up, the man made a low bow, wished him a smiling buenos dias, then wheeled a breakfast trolley into the room.

On the trolley there was coffee, some strips of paw paw, pineapple, mango and apple, known in Mexico as a `fruit plate', and a basket holding little sweet cakes and crisp white rolls. After a good drink of coffee Adam made a dead set at the rolls, for the white bolios of Mexico had been one of his discoveries. In Europe and the United States the refinement of flour and modern baking methods have in recent times rendered bread almost tasteless. But for Mexicans to have wheat bread in their houses, as well as maize cakes, is a status symbol and they insist that the wheat should be undiluted and hand baked. The result is a revelation to visiting foreigners and Adam had found the rolls so delicious that he would willingly have made a main meal of them alone.

As he ate, the events of the previous night gave him plenty to think about. Why, he wondered again, should Monsignor Alberuque be so anxious to know what the F.B.I. had found out about a possible revolution that he had induced Chela to steal temporarily her half brother's brief case for him? For it seemed evident that that was what he had done.

The obvious inference was that he, as well as Bernadino, was involved in the conspiracy. It was always in the interests of capitalists to secure cheap labour; but the Church, as the protector of the poor, should be opposed to that. There could, though, be another angle to it. Alberuque was no village priest. As a Don he must be of noble descent and as a Monsignor a minor Prince of the Church. In every country such worldly prelates had often ignored the well being of the masses if by so doing they could get for themselves rich benefices and great estates. And the lower

orders of the clergy were bound to obey their superiors. Perhaps,

therefore, the capitalists and the Bishops had made a pact. Yet, if

that were so, why had not Bernadino told Alberuque what was

afoot or, when Chela had reported to the Monsignor what she had

overheard, had he not asked Bernadino about it, instead of coming in the middle of the night to examine the contents of Ramon’s brief case?

Finding no answer to this puzzle, Adam's mind turned to the other. For the past five days he had been almost constantly in Chela's company, he had now met most of her closest friends and she had talked freely to him about them. If some man who particularly interested her had recently come into her life surely he would have been at one of the parties to which Adam had gone with her or, at least, she would have made some mention of him. But there had not been the least indication that such a man existed; so it seemed inescapable that Adam was the `stranger' to whom Alberuque had referred. Yet how could he possibly be of any value to them as the figurehead in a revolution? The very idea was absurd.

There must then be some other explanation. Perhaps the `stranger' was someone right outside Chela's social circle: a man her father and friends knew nothing about. If that was so, and the `stranger' was a clandestine acquaintance that would account for her never having mentioned him.

At this idea Adam was seized with sudden perturbation. He had had ample evidence that half a dozen men were in eager pursuit of Chela, but she had seemed indifferent to all of them. This might explain that. This new supposition made it probable that he had a rival, and a really dangerous one, for if there was a man that Chela was meeting in secret that would make him all the more interesting to her. It might even be that she was already in love with him. Still worse, Alberuque had as good as ordered her to use her charms to secure his aid in their plans and, by giving her absolution in advance, clearly indicated that, if need be, she should give herself to him.

Mentally, Adam began to writhe. If she was willing, to lose her to another would be bad enough. But it might be that she was not, yet would obey Alberuque and sacrifice herself as a martyr to her cause. It was as well for the Monsignor that he was not then in the room for, at the thought, a fierce surge of anger ran through Adam. Had he at that moment had the chance, he would have used those great hands of his to choke the life out of the unscrupulous priest. As it was, he could only relieve his feelings by a flow of curses consigning the priest to an obscene hell, and when he grew calmer determine to do everything possible to thwart his designs.

Yet how he could set about that was another problem. To disclose to Chela that he knew she had enabled Alberuque to read the despatch for which her half brother was responsible would

embarrass her so much that a breach between them was certain to result, and there seemed no other way in which he could lead her to talk of her secret activities. All he could do, for the time being, was to talk to her casually about the Monsignor, in the hope of picking up some clue, and weigh every word she said, on the off chance that she might give some indication of the identity of the man upon whom Alberuque had ordered her to use her wiles.

Chela had said that she would take him that morning to see Cortes' palace, which was now a museum. It was not a very large building, but occupied one side of the main square. Many of the rooms were now used as offices of the City Council, but the chapel contained some splendid frescoes and most of the first floor consisted of an open terrace arcaded on both sides. Adam visualised the great Conquistadors; as an old man, sitting there sheltered from the midday heat, while looking out towards the nearest mountains in the vast country that, backed on landing only by a handful of adventurous Captains and a few hundred desperadoes, he had not only conquered but pacified with such wisdom that the people had come to regard him as their protector from injustice.

After their visit to the Palace, while walking back down the steep streets, Adam brought the Monsignor's name into the conversation. Showing no trace of uneasiness, Chela at once responded by going into raptures about him. He was, according to her, everything that a good priest should be: wise, pious, tolerant, with a great understanding of the human heart and an untiring zest for fighting the battles of the oppressed who came to him with their troubles. All of which got Adam nowhere.

On their return they found the rest of the house party assembled round the pool, so they changed into bathing things and went in with them. Lunch was a cold collation taken in the garden where they helped themselves from a table carrying a score of delicacies which would have been sufficient to feed a whole platoon of hungry soldiers. The day then followed the pattern of Friday: more bathing and laughter, cocktails, a lengthy gourmet's dinner, then dancing until two o'clock in the morning.

On Sunday the routine differed only in that all the women and the three younger men went to Mass, leaving Adam and his host sitting together in the summer house over the pool.

After they had been talking for a while Adam, keeping his voice

casual, said, `All the people I have talked to here say it's most

unlikely there will be a change of government in the foreseeable

future. D'you agree about that, sir?'

Bernadino gave Adam a swift, sideways glance, masking it by

a pull on his cigar, then he replied, `I should say they are right. The government is far too firmly seated to be overthrown at all easily. But one never can tell. People often take their characteristics from the land in which they live. Mexico is a land of many volcanoes; like them its people are given to sudden violent eruptions.'

`There is something to be said for a government that keeps the peace,' Adam hazarded. `Even if it is a dictatorship.'

`I agree.' Bernadino nodded his white head. `Revolutions have been the curse of Mexico ever since she gained independence. Except during the thirty four years that old Porfirio Diaz was our President, hardly a year passed without either some ambitious General making a pronunciamiento or there being a tumulto, as we term riots, in Mexico City. As a youngster I can remember them, and they were quite alarming. In those days, and all through the past century, the streets were infested with hordes of beggars called leperos. Most of them were fake cripples. Any sort of excuse was good enough for them to throw away their crutches and rampage through the town in big mobs, looting, burning and murdering. For a day or two all decent people had to barricade themselves in their houses and have their firearms ready. At least our present government has put a stop to that sort of thing and has cleared the streets of such dangerous vagabonds.'

`You were saying, sir, that Porfirio Diaz succeeded in remaining President for thirty four years. How did he manage to do that?'

Bernadino gave a low laugh. `Because he had the sense to see on which side his bread was buttered. Like all these Generals, he came to power by inciting the Indians to revolt with the promise that the lands should be restored to them. Like all the others, he ratted on his promise. But, unlike them, he did not then try to rule only through his army. He made allies: the great landowners, such as my own family in those days; the Church and, shrewdest move of all, the Americans. With their help he pulled the country's finances out of the incredible mess they were in and encouraged foreign investment. What is more, he restored order throughout the whole country. For over half a century it had been plagued by hordes of bandits. Diaz enlisted all the gangsters in the cities, put them into smart uniforms and sent them out to clear the country up. They were called Rurales and had orders to shoot on sight, The Socialists, of course, paint him as a bloodthirsty tyrant who ground the faces of the poor; but that is not altogether true. For the first time since Independence, Mexico began to prosper and soon commerce was booming. Property and the lives of the law abiding were secure. The taxes were heavy but there was money to pay them, and even the poorest people fed better than they do now. That is why from the late seventies until 1910 is known as Mexico 's “Golden Age”.'

`Would you say that things were better here then than when Mexico was a Spanish colony?'

`Oh no, I would not say that.' Bernadino smiled and waved his cigar airily. `You British pride yourselves on having been the best colonial administrators the world has ever known except perhaps for the Romans. But I do not think you can rival Spain 's achievements in that field. We Spaniards I use the term because I am descended from one of Cortes' Captains, although as for many generations my forbears have been born here I am actually a Creole we Spaniards developed this country and ruled it for close on three hundred years. That is twice the length of time that the British were paramount in India. For three centuries our Viceroys, assisted by a Council called the Audiencia and wise decrees from the Council of the Indies that sat in Seville, kept the peace here, introduced every form of agriculture and bred vast herds of cattle. We also became the staging post for the enormous wealth in silks, spices, ivories and many other things that Spain imported from China and her possessions in the Far East. Under the Bourbon Kings of the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries Mexico was one of the most prosperous and well governed countries in the world.'

`Why then,' Adam asked, `did the people revolt and drive the Spaniards out?'

Bernadino sighed. `It is a sad story; for from security and riches

it reduced the country to chaos, brigandage and poverty for the

best part of a century. I suppose the ideas emanating from the

French Revolution were the initial cause; but it was Napoleon

who upset the apple cart. You will doubtless recall that early in

the last century he imprisoned King Carlos IV and his heir

Ferdinand, then made his own brother, Joseph Bonaparte, King

of Spain. That caused a schism among the ruling caste here. Some

were for acknowledging the usurper Bonaparte; others supported

the imprisoned King and wished to establish a Regency until he

should be restored to his throne. Others again, particularly the

Careoles, who had always resented being ruled by Spaniards sent

out from Spain, urged that the time had come for Mexico to

throw off the Spanish yoke and declare herself a sovereign nation.

'There followed violent disputes, tumultos and sporadic civil war

that went on for several years. The result was that in 1810, when

the renegade priest Hidalgo led the masses in a rebellion, the

government was in no state to cope with it. Seeing their danger,

the Spaniards and the Creoles sank their differences and, in due course, defeated him. But it had started something that could not be stopped. From then on Mexico was desolated by almost ceaseless civil wars and, after her break with Spain, became the body on which a long line of unscrupulous dictators gorged themselves.'

When Bernadino ceased speaking he sat smoking in silence for a few minutes, then changed the subject and spoke to Adam about his plans. He said that now Adam had seen most of the sights in Mexico City, he must spend a few days in other places of interest. In recent years archaeologists had discovered no fewer than ten thousand sites scattered over Mexico where there were remains of the ancient civilizations. It would probably take a century to excavate them all, but in the past fifty years a number of the finest had been cleared of jungle and restored. Oaxaca was one centre from which some of the best could be visited and Merida, down in Yucatan, was another. Both could be reached with ease, as there were daily services of aircraft to them.

For several days past Adam’s mind had been occupied mainly by thoughts of Chela; but this recalled to him the fact that his reason for coming to Mexico had been to collect material for another book and, loath as he was to leave her, he was eager to see these other great monuments of the past.

It was therefore decided that he should go down to Oaxaca on the coming Thursday, to do so sooner being ruled out by his having accepted an invitation from one of Chela's friends to dine on the Wednesday. Bernadino said that his office would get a seat for him on Thursday's aircraft and arrange accommodation for him in the Victoria Hotel at Oaxaca; then he airily waved away Adam's protests that he must pay for the trip himself. Adam could only thank him and again think how lucky he had been to be knocked down by the car of a generous millionaire.

On Monday morning they all returned to Mexico City. At the El Presidente Adam found waiting for him an invitation to lunch the following day at the Residence of the British Ambassador. The grande luxe life led by the wealthy Mexicans had amazed him, as he had had no idea that anywhere in the world there still existed people who were served like feudal nobles. But this was: another thing. It was an honour earned by his own achievements At once he wrote out an acceptance and took it across the Refoma to the British Embassy in the Calle Lerna.

That night he and Chela had been asked to dine with some friends of hers at the Rivoli restaurant. He had had little experience of such places, but the perfect service of the well groomed

waiters and the decor of the place, with the wall cabinets filled with Sevres china, made him doubt if there could be a better restaurant in Paris. Afterwards they went on to the Jacaranda to dance and he thoroughly enjoyed another happy evening.

Next day, at two o'clock, he had a taxi take him out to the Residence. Their Excellencies received him most kindly. They had read, and praised, his latest book. The Enriquezes were well known to them and they congratulated him on his accident's having brought him into contact with people so well able to give him a good time while he was in Mexico.

A cocktail session lasted until a quarter to three, then they went in to lunch. Fourteen sat down to table. The majority were

Mexicans, but they all spoke English; so Adam had no need to resort to Spanish, in which practice during the past week had enabled him to converse very freely. His neighbours were delighted when he expressed his admiration for their city, and when he said that he was going down to Oaxaca they plied him with information about things he must not fail to see while he was there.

For coffee and liqueurs they moved into a long drawing room which, as the building was a modern one, had one wall entirely of glass, through which the pleasant garden could be seen. Soon after they had settled down, Jeremy Hunterscombe joined them. Languidly the tall Wing Commander stretched himself out in a chair next to Adam, talked to him for some minutes about what he had been doing, then said:

`I've a little project I'd like to have a word with you about, Gordon. Do you happen to be free for lunch tomorrow?'

When Adam replied that he was, Hunterscombe went on, `Then come and have a bite with me at the Ritz.' With a grin he added, `Sounds terribly posh, doesn't it? But actually it's just an old fashioned hotel downtown in the Calle Madero. Not the sort of haunt for rich authors, but it suits chaps like me and I'll guarantee that the food's good.'

Adam thought the comparison in rather bad taste and swiftly replied that, until recently, he had often made his dinner off sandwiches at a coffee stall; then they agreed to meet at the Ritz at two o'clock.

That evening Adam took Chela to the ballet, downtown at the

Palace of Fine Arts. He was not a balletomane, but the perforce had been cracked up to him so he expected something exceptional. In that he was disappointed. The first ballet he enjoyed, because it was a most colourful spectacle of Aztecs in their gorgeous robes and wonderful feathered head dresses. But the others were only folk dances of the previous century, which he found trite and boring. Afterwards they went on to dance at the Via Fontana.

On the Wednesday Adam stood for some while on the pavement of the Reforma endeavouring in vain to get a taxi. Then, to his surprise, in response to his upraised arm, a small yellow car pulled up in front of him, which already had two people and the driver squeezed into it. After a hasty exchange with the driver Adam learned that it was one of a fleet of such vehicles which plied up and down the main thoroughfare of the city, picking up and dropping single passengers wherever they liked along the route for the modest sum of a single peso.

As he clambered into the remaining free seat he thought it splendid a idea, and what a benefit it would be to Londoners if a similar service were instituted from. Marble Arch along Oxford. Street to the City and from Knightsbridge up Piccadilly through the Strand and Fleet Street to St. Paul 's. A peso was only seven pence, and for a shilling such a run would be cheap.

The communal taxi decanted him opposite the spacious Alameda Square, with its palm trees, gardens and the huge Centre of Culture which had window displays of books in every language. From there it was only five minutes' walk to the Calle Madero and he found the Ritz without difficulty.

It was far from pretentious, as to enter it one had to walk through a short arcade with shops displaying Mexican craftwork and souvenirs; but it had a comfortable cocktail lounge in which Hunterscombe was waiting for him.

During the hour that followed Adam grew to like the Ritz more and more. It had a pleasant old fashioned air about it and a regular clientele of well to do business men. The tables were set well apart, most of the waiters were of the friendly old retainer type and the food was excellent; although, as he saw from the menu, the prices were reasonable.

It was not until he was enjoying a Mexican pudding of preserved pears, meringue and short pastry that their conversation became of any particular interest, and he unconsciously led up to it himself by asking if his host knew Monsignor Alberuque.

Hunterscombe gave him a swift glance and replied, `Yes slightly. What do you make of him?'

`I've met him only once and he gave me the shivers,' Adam said frankly. `Why, I don't know, but those dead black eyes of his puts my hackles up.'

`That rather surprises me, for he has tremendous charm. But he is certainly a queer fish and, curiously enough, to ask you what you knew about him was one of the reasons I asked you to lunch

It surprises me that you should even have known that I'd met him.,

'Elementary, my dear Watson. You were down at Cuernavaca last week end, and he is as thick as thieves with Chela.' `I saw him only during one evening, so I know hardly anything about him,' Adam lied glibly. `But why are you interested?' Hunterscombe took a long pull at his cigarette. `Look, old boy. You'll treat what I am about to say as confidential, I'm sure. The fact is we have reason to believe that there is trouble brewing in this country, and that Alberuque has a big finger in it.' `What sort of trouble?'

`Possibly a revolution.'

Greatly intrigued, Adam began to fish for information by saying, `I thought revolutions in Mexico were a thing of the past.' `Most people do, but they are endemic here. It's in the blood of the people. Do you know much about Mexican history?'

`I've read quite a lot about the ancient civilizations and the conquest, but I haven't bothered to go into all the complications since Independence.'

`Then on account of what I want to talk to you about, I must give you a short resume.' Hunterscombe tapped out his cigarette and lit another. `Apart from a few Indian risings, there was no serious trouble until Hidalgo led the rebellion of 1810. He made a mess of things; but one of his followers, Jose Morelos, took over and more or less got the better of the Spaniards and Creoles, who hated each other but teamed up to defend their wealth and privileges.

'Morelos as good as had the country in his hands, but he made 'he mistake of calling a Congress to proclaim a Republic. His preoccupation with the future led to his being caught napping and executed; so it was not until 1821 that Mexico actually gained her independence.'

`I know that much and quite a bit more,' Adam remarked. `Maybe you do, chum,' replied the Wing Commander, brushing up his long moustache. `But to make my point, I want to refresh your memory about what has been going on in this country for the past one hundred and fifty years. To continue. It was upon Zorelos's programme that all the revolutions that followed were based. He proposed to confiscate the great estates of the rich and the Church and restore the land to the Indians. A royalist Colonel named de Iturbide, who had put paid to Morelos, took over; but he ratted on his Spanish pals and had himself proclaimed as Emperor Agustin I.

`In due course Iturbide was overthrown by an extraordinarily

shifty customer, one Antonio de Santa Anna. He was like a cat with nine lives, or rather eleven, for between 1833 and 1855 there were eleven periods when he was master of Mexico. To get the masses on his side he started off by being very much to the Left;

but he didn't give a damn for anyone but himself, and gradually watered down all the reforms that had been set in motion until the masses were back pretty much where they had started, with the rich and the priests jumping on their necks.

`The Texans didn't like him, so they decided to break away. That led to a civil war which ended in his defeat and capture by a lad named Sam Houston. He then bought his own freedom by giving Texas independence.

`The Mexicans did not like that and, in 1846, reasserting their claim to Texas led them into a war with the United States. They lost it, and it cost them not only Texas for good but also California the best part of a million square miles of territory. In addition to that, when Santa Anna got into power again he was feeling hard up, so he sold a large part of Arizona and New Mexico to the Yankees for three million quid.'

Adam smiled. `Then, by and large, he proved a pretty expensive President.'

`He certainly did. In eighteen years he reduced Mexico from the fourth largest country in the world to less than half its original size. Anyhow, the people were not only fed up about that, but because he had let the rich and the Church get back on their necks again. Then there emerged an extraordinary fellow named Benito Juarez. He was a full blooded Zapotec Indian, one hundred per cent honest, a first class General, a great law giver and a puritan ascetic.

` Juarez led a successful rebellion against the reactionaries and brought in the Constitution of 1857. It went even further than the programme of Morelos. Not only was the Church forbidden to own property and priests and nuns were freed from their vows, but all privileges were abolished, it gave freedom to the Press and decreed free education for the children of all classes.

`The Church and the Conservatives weren't standing for that, so it resulted in a most bloody Civil War. Juarez won through but, by the time he had, the country was so disrupted that it was bankrupt. As French, Spanish and British investors could not get their money, their governments decided to intervene. Napoleon III sent out the Archduke Maximilian, backed by a French army, to become Emperor. Well, you know what happened to that poor well meaning poop. Three years later Juarez did a magnificent job of work. It was he who created modern Mexico, and in 1872

he died in office. He was followed by one of his generals, Porfirio Diaz. Under him the pendulum swung back again. In his way he, too, was a patriot, but he was no believer in democracy. He ruled Mexico for thirty four years from 1876 to 1910. During his Presidency he spent Lord knows how many millions on ornate buildings and extravagant ceremonies, his idea being to make Mexico appear great in the eyes of visiting foreigners. But, of course, the money was squeezed out of the wretched people and, as from top to bottom his officials were open to bribery, the rich and the top priests again lived like fighting cocks. Under Diaz, Mexico became a Police State, and to pay for his ostentatious frivolities he played ducks and drakes with the nation's property too his pals he sold at peppercorn price one fifth of all the land in Mexico. One lucky boy acquired seventeen million acres, and. another twelve million.

`The modern side of the picture is that he gave the cities modern drainage, drove broad avenues through their slums, created harbours that would take deep sea ships, built railways and made the trains run on time. He played it skilfully with the Great Powers, too, by giving their industrialists concessions and exempting them from taxes; so that in his last eighteen years in office foreign investments here more than doubled. `But it was a grim time for the masses and in 1910 a chap named Madero started agitating against him. Tumultos followed all over the country. The most successful risings were led by the exbandit Pancho Villa and a peasant named Emiliano Zapata. Old Diaz was forced to resign and went into exile. 'Madero succeeded him but he was an impractical idealist and did not last long. Naturally the Church and all the boys who had such a good time under Diaz didn't want their lands taken from them and given to the peasants; so they ganged up against him. Mexico City itself became a battleground, with both sides shelling it to pieces. The Whites got the upper hand and Madero was arrested. He resigned in exchange for a promise that his life would be spared; but a drunken old Indian General, Victoriano Huerta, betrayed him, had him shot and went over to the other side.

`Believing that they were on to a good thing, his new pals made Huerta President; but he turned out to be a Mexican Nero, left the country to run itself and spent all his time as Master of Ceremonies at drunken orgies.

`That was in 1913. For the next seven years Mexico was in a state of anarchy and there were ten Presidents, one of whom held he job for only forty six minutes. Villa fought Carranza, Obregon fought Villa, Gonzalez fought Zapata, Calles fought Maytorena, Obregon fought Carranza and Carranza fought Calles. The lawlessness and slaughter was appalling. Mexico 's then population of fifteen millions was reduced by a million dead.

`At last Alvaro Obregon got the upper hand. It was he who was mainly responsible for the new Constitution of 1917; but the struggle between the peasants trying to get a fair deal and the rich attempting to hang on to what they'd got has never really ceased, only gone underground. Just like Mexico 's volcanoes, it erupts now and then, as in the Church inspired rebellion of the Cristeros in 1926. So you can take it from me that after this long period of comparative quiet, as the majority of the people are still poverty stricken, there may at any time be another eruption.'

For a moment Hunterscombe paused; then he concluded, `The reason I've bored you with all this is because I want to bring home to you that every one of these eruptions has resulted in years of civil war and desperate unhappiness for millions of people.'

When Hunterscombe ceased speaking, Adam remarked, `I give you full marks as our Cultural Attache, for being well up in the history of this country; but it strikes me as a little strange that you should be so concerned about the political situation.'

The lanky Wing Commander's bright blue eyes held Adam's with a steady stare, then he said in a low voice, `Look, pal. We are both Britishers so I can talk turkey to you. The job of Cultural Attaché sometimes covers a multitude of well other things. In my case, collecting info' for a certain office not far from Whitehall. We get along pretty well with the present government here and, anyway, the devil you know is better than the devil you don't. So it is up to us to help in any way we can to prevent another revolution in Mexico.'

After a moment he went on, `Not only on account of our interests here, but because we know what a revolution would lead to. Judging by the horrors that took place in the Spanish Civil War, the Spaniards have a pretty unpleasant reputation for cruelty and there is a lot of Spanish blood in this country. But the Spaniards are gentle little lambs compared to the Indians. The sort of parties that took place in the free for all that preceded 1920 are almost unbelievable. Captives had the soles of their feet sliced off and were made to run across open country until they were shot down. In one case, a sportsman who prided himself on his marksmanship had two hundred of them released just for target practice. Some were forced to dance for hours until their hearts gave out. Others were buried up to their necks then ridden over by cavalry. Others again were tied to horses' tails and dragged at a gallop until they became bleeding pulp. Scores of prisoners had their ears lopped off and plantation foremen were nailed to the doors of their homes, then left to die of thirst. We don't want that sort of thing to happen again, do we?'

`My God, no!' Adam gave a shudder. `But I don't see how I can help to prevent it.'

`Oh yes, you can,' Hunterscombe replied quietly. `You are right in with old Enriquez, and the capitalists have plenty to gain if the reactionaries came to power. What is more, you are the lucky lad who has become the Senorita Chela's latest boy friend. We are convinced that she is in this thing up to the neck, and that their contact is Alberuque. If you play it gently you are in a position to win her confidence and get the lowdown on the tie up between the Church and Bernadino and his pals. That is what I want you to do, then report to me every damn' thing you can get out of her and her family so that we can turn it in to the Mexican government.'

Into Adam's mind there flashed a vision of his beautiful Chela, arrested, being tried for treason and then condemned to spend the best years of her life in some awful prison.

Suddenly, seething with rage at the idea of being asked to betray her, he came to his feet and said icily, `Thanks for the lunch. But what is going to happen in Mexico is not my problem. As for spying on friends who have been extremely kind to me, I'll see you in hell first.'

The Wing Commander appeared mildly amused by Adam's outburst. He said, `Hold it, dear boy; hold it. Even if you haven't the undiluted patriotism of a pukka sahib, I'd be grateful if you'd refrain from making a scene in my favourite restaurant.'

Feeling rather foolish, Adam subsided and Hunterscombe went on, `I accept your decision. All the same, you are wrong about it's not being your problem. God knows there is enough trouble in the world today and each area that blows up lessens the stability of others. If you are not interested in the welfare of your own country, that is reason enough for refusing to help me protect British commercial interests in Mexico. But there is another side to it which is the problem of us all. That is to do everything we can to prevent wars and civil wars from breaking out, in which many thousands of innocent men, women and children die violent deaths or have their lives ruined by some ghastly wound. We'll leave it at that, and I'll only suggest that you think it over.'

`I see your point,' Adam agreed. `But I'm not going to involve my friends in trouble.'

Hunterscombe nodded. `That's understandable. Now I’ll revert to my official position as Cultural Attaché. It's part of my job to run the Anglo Mexican Society. We meet once a week and get some visitor to give us a talk. He may be a visiting M.P., an economist, a man who has travelled a lot or a well known sportsman. Authors, and particularly best selling authors, are especially welcome. Can I persuade you to oblige?'

Adam had soon learned that he was not one of those fortunate people who can be interesting and amusing for three quarters of an hour without first thinking out what he was going to say, making copious notes and rehearsing his speech; so it would mean a full morning's work. He had often done it when he needed the publicity. Now he didn't; but, all the same, he felt it a duty to provide an evening's entertainment for British people living abroad, so he replied:

`Right ho! When is it to be?'

`We meet on Tuesday evenings. I've got a chap for next week: an engineer who builds bridges. How about the following Tuesday?'

`Fine. That's all right by me.'

`Thanks, chum. I'll drop you a line about time and place. Now, if you will forgive me, I must get back to the Embassy. But I can give you a lift up town.'

Twenty minutes later they parted with no unfriendly feelings.

After his lunch with `our man' in Mexico, Adam pondered the situation very seriously. For the under cover agents of both America and Britain to have got on to it, there could be no doubt that real trouble was brewing. It being reasonable to suppose that the Mexican security people were not a pack of fools, it could be assumed that they had, too. Anyhow by now they would know about it as, short of abandoning his career as a diplomat, Ramon could not evade turning in his report.

Bernadino had said that he meant to warn his friends, which implied that the Enriquezes, father and son, still had time to pull out and put themselves in the clear. But Adam knew to be wrong Jeremy Hunterscombe's assumption that Chela was acting as liaison between her family and Alberuque. Both parties might be involved in the conspiracy but, for some reason he could not fathom, on different levels. Bernadino had seen the red light; but even after reading the despatch that Ramon had been carrying, Alberuque had shown no uneasiness. That meant he and Chela would continue their subversive activities and would remain liable to be caught out.

During the siesta hours Adam tossed restlessly on his bed wondering whether he ought now to come clean with Chela and

tell her that he had been a witness to her midnight meeting with he Monsignor and warn her of her danger. At length he decided that, if a suitable opportunity arose, he would; but otherwise, as it seemed that the conspiracy was still in its infancy, he would leave the matter until his return from Oaxaca.

At the party that night he was twice on the point of broaching he subject to her; but their conversation was interrupted by other good looking gentlemen eager for Chela's company, so, none to happily, he left things as they were.

Next morning he was up early, had himself driven to the airport and took the seat that had been booked for him by Bernadino in the aircraft that left at 8.15 for Oaxaca. It was a flight of only an hour and a quarter. Not long after taking off, the plane flew right over Popocatepetl and he was able to stare down into the crater of the great volcano. Then they passed out of the Anahuac valley to enjoy a vista of other mountains in the distance.

At the small, trim airport at Oaxaca he found that a car had been ordered for him. He was whisked away through the city and up a mile long slope on its far side to the Hotel Victoria.

The hotel intrigued him, as he had never before seen one like it. Instead of being rectangular, it was round. The ground floor was a circular, open space from which one could see right up to the roof. Rising from this lounge, a broad, spiral staircase led to three upper floors of bedrooms. Adam was given one facing east. It looked down on a big swimming pool framed in banana palms and a variety of trees in flower. But it was the far view that entranced him. The hotel, set high on a slope, looked straight down a seemingly endless valley between two ranges of mountains. This splendid stretch of country had once been Cortes' estate, and from it he had taken his title, `The Marquis of the Valley'.

Seeing that it was only a little after eleven o'clock, Adam descended the spiral staircase and had himself driven into the city. His driver spoke fluent English and, having parked the car in the palm shaded square, accompanied him as his guide.

One side of the square was occupied by a long arcade above which rose the Governor's Palace and another by a still older Palace, both in the Spanish style. The latter was now a museum, its interior courtyard containing a number of stone images. Having seen so many in the museum in Mexico City, Adam went straight upstairs to see the antique jewellery, which the guide had described as fabulous. The finest of the items had been discovered in Tomb 7 at Monte Alban, which lay only a few miles away, and they were indeed very well worth seeing.

There were necklaces, ear rings, breast ornaments, also elaborately chased axes, spear heads and scepters inlaid with gold, which were triumphs of the goldsmith's art, and a superbly engraved crystal cup.

They then visited the Cathedral and the Church of St. Dominic, which Adam found much more impressive. Over the entrance of the broad porch there was a brilliantly coloured and gilded carved ceiling, among the elaborate embellishments of which were the life size faces of the leading Conquistadores. Along niches in the sides of the church there were many figures of saints, several of whom had Indian features; and one, with an ebony face, was obviously a Negro.

When Adam remarked on this, his well informed guide told him that as the Spaniards had found the Indians a comparatively feeble people, incapable of prolonged heavy work, many thousands of Negroes had been imported who, on being given their freedom, had intermarried with the Indians, and this accounted for many modern Mexicans of the lower classes having Negroid features.

Afterwards they walked back through the square and down a street to one side of the Governor's Palace, where there was a market. There were scores of stalls selling cotton garments, plastic goods and toys. Of the last there were such great quantities that Adam marvelled that the stallholders could make a living by selling them; but, as they obviously did, it argued that the Mexicans must be loving and generous parents.

Further down, on the right of the street, was the market proper a great, high roofed building along the narrow alleys of which hundreds of people were pushing past one another. The contents of the meat stalls looked revolting; but Adam was interested in the fish, many kinds of which he had never before seen. The fruits and vegetables were even more varied. There were great piles of every kind known to Europe and the tropics: the largest oranges Adam had ever seen and mandarins as large as ordinary oranges.

When Adam commented on this abundance, his guide said, `How our people would live without fruit and vegetables I do not know. But in that, God has been kind to Mexico. The land is so mountainous that fruits ripen in the lowlands many months before they do in the highland valleys, so we never lack for most kinds of fruit all the year round.'

Back at the hotel Adam had a late lunch, his siesta, then went downstairs for a swim. The floor below the big central lounge was occupied by a roomy bar and restaurant. After reading for a time while consuming a couple of Planter's Punches, he went in to dinner. As at lunch, he found the food passable but quite unpredictable. Sole Colbert was on the menu but, when it arrived, instead of being a whole fried sole split down the middle, with a big dab of parsley butter between the rolled back sides, it was bits some unidentifiable fish with a white sauce, served in a small round pot.

After his long day he went early to bed and by eleven o'clock is sound asleep. Shortly before midnight, he was roused by the opening of his door. Quickly switching on the light, he propped himself up on one elbow. To his amazement Chela, clad in a flowered silk dressing gown, was standing in the doorway. For a moment he thought he must be dreaming. But she closed the door behind her, undid her dressing gown and let it fall to e floor. Standing there now only in a transparent nightdress at revealed her magnificent figure, she smiled at him and said: `I've come to keep an appointment that we made only with our eyes nearly a thousand years ago.'