I own neither the characters nor the situations (and not even the plots).
Feb 10, 1815
"But if you're from up by Immaculate Conception why go all the way to de Alcala with your furs? It makes no sense."
Vargas sighed. "Our uncle was the assistant harbor master there. It's a long trip, but my brother and I took turns making it once a year. It was nice to see him, yeah?"
Diego straightened. "That's wonderful news. He can vouch for you - "
Vargas shook his head. "He died about three months ago. We hadn't gotten word. Anyway, the buyer was a little late, and I had to wait for him. I was in a hurry to get home before my brother starts to worry."
Diego nodded. The story was consistent with what he'd said the day before. He didn't think Vargas was a liar, although it would have been convenient if he were. Either way, justice was the point here, and it would be easier to get it if the accused were guilty….
That was a very lazy thought, and unkind besides. Still, in the absence of a guilty client was not an insurmountable problem. If Vargas' innocence was an inconvenience for Diego it was a disaster for the prosecution. The prosecutor would have to prove a lie.
As a bonus, the prosecutor in question was Mendoza, a man who thought in straight lines, was a bad liar, and disliked confrontation. The only evidence was the statement of the bank clerk, a timid little man who had made a report to Mendoza and then taken to his bed (he boarded with Senora Ortiz, who made the best cheese in the territory) complaining of heart palpitations. Diego found himself unsympathetic; it wasn't the trauma of a robbery that laid so heavily on him, it was his conscience at bearing false witness.
"Is there anyone who could vouch that you were on legitimate business?"
Vargas shrugged.
"You could take a little more interest in your defense," Diego said, irked. "This is very serious business. If you are found guilty you may hang."
"I won't hang. I'll be out of here in a day or two at most."
"I'm not that good," Diego pointed out.
"Oh, not you – not that I don't appreciate what you are trying to do. I wouldn't have expected it in this corrupt little town." He looked around the little cell. "My brother will rip this pueblo apart when he finds out what is going on here."
The door to the inner office slammed open so hard bits of adobe chipped out where the handle hit. Startled, Diego turned around. A huge man was coming through the doorway. It was a good, high, military doorway, but the man was so tall he had to duck down to get through. He had to twist as well, to haul something else in behind him.
He was carrying Luis Ramone by the throat. The alcalde's face was purple and his feet were a full foot above the floor. Diego gaped.
"Nestor!" Vargas had leapt to his feet, grinning.
"Ricky!" The giant crowed. He dropped the alcalde, who slumped to the ground like a sack of grain and seized two of the bars of the cell. He set his feet and pulled until the bars began to bend to either side.
"I have a key," Ramone croaked, coughing.
The bars squeaked slightly as they arced closer to their neighbors.
"I knew you'd come," Vargas said happily. "I was framed, Nestor. They said I robbed a bank."
"Come on. Let's go home."
Diego tried to collect his wits. "Not so fast, my friends. Enrique, if you leave now, you'll be branded a fugitive. You can't run."
The huge man looked down at Diego in puzzlement. "But he never did it," he said reasonably.
"He's been arrested. He has to stand trial and be proven innocent otherwise….He'll be a fugitive. They'll put a price on his head."
"That's not fair."
The alcalde slowly climbed to his feet. "It's the law," he said piously.
Enrique looked up at his brother. "He's right."
"What do we do, Ricky?"
"You must stay and face the charges. It won't be long; the magistrate is expected any day. I'm defending him." Diego cleared his throat. "I promise you, Senor. If your brother is innocent, I'll get him acquitted."
Nestor Vargas eyed Diego narrowly. He glanced at his brother for confirmation and then slowly nodded. "You'd better. Or this will be your head." He lifted the water bucket from its hook on the wall, tipped the water onto the floor, and crushed the bucket in his hands. He turned to the alcalde. "And yours. And everyone else's who had a hand in this ugly plot. Just wait until I get my hands on the man who captured him…."
Nestor tossed the pieces aside and turned back to Enrique. "There is a tavern across the way. Let's go get some lunch, eh?"
After a long silence the alcalde straightened his clothing.
Diego fingered the bent bars. "You could arrest the big one for damaging government property." He stepped through the gap out of the cell.
"I had the key," the alcalde said irritably. After a moment he added, "Where would I hold him, eh?"
"You have a garrison full of men," Diego said.
For a moment the alcalde looked tempted. Then he scowled and muttered, "Assuming they could manage to hit the ox, how many musket balls do you think he could take before he went down?"
Diego almost protested that the lancers weren't really all that bad; it was only a habit by now to assume that Zorro was invincible, and they didn't try very hard. Instead he said, "I suppose I'll call it a day."
Filipe
Diego had left him at home. He had not been spending enough time on his schoolwork lately, and while, yes, the newspaper was an education in itself, it didn't teach geometry or chemistry and interrupting the curriculum further by the needs of this legal case was just not acceptable.
When his first argument failed, Felipe tried to protest that Diego was not allowed to go into town by himself. When Don Alejandro had finally been told about the 'arrangement' Diego had made with the alcalde, he had been practically incandescent with rage. For half an hour he had berated – very quietly, since this was not a topic that could be overheard – both of the twins for taking such a terrible risk, for skirting the bounds of honesty, for subjecting Diego to the added strain, for keeping him in the dark…it had been very unpleasant. Diego and Gilberto had not tried to defend themselves; they were keeping too many secrets to emphasize this one.
At last, Don Alejandro had stopped and eyed Diego narrowly. "Is it working?"
"So far, Father."
He sighed. He kissed Diego on both cheeks. "It is a daring and brilliant plan and you are a genius, my son, and if you leave this hacienda without an escort, I will lock you in your room and throw away the key."
"Yes, Father," Diego answered meekly. He had been careful all along, but after that discussion he was scrupulous about not going out alone. Felipe had thought he might be able to use that.
No such luck. "Yes, and that is why today I will take Tomas and Pablo. They can wait in the tavern while I interview Vargas. It will be fine. Felipe, it would be boring for you anyway…."
"I could do my homework in town!"
For a moment he hesitated. "No. We'll see how much you get done today. Maybe tomorrow."
But concentrating with Diego out of the house was difficult. It was made harder by the fact that he was sharing the library with Gilberto. He had spread out maps and lists across the desk and the divan, and he kept scribbling and pacing and sometimes humming to himself. Apparently he was trying to learn about weather. Which was just strange. Weather was not that complicated, and Felipe himself knew quite a bit about it. He had even seen snow once, on a hunting trip with Don Alejandro up in the mountains. It had been years ago, just after the twins had gone to Spain, but Felipe could remember how impossibly, sharply cold it had been…and the way the individual flakes had been so tiny and so perfect….
And he was far too easily distracted. At this rate he would never finish these proofs and he would be stuck here tomorrow, too….
The front door shut hard and a moment later Diego came into the library. He patted Felipe absently on the shoulder and collected the slate from his hands before sitting down.
Gilberto glanced up and scanned him quickly before turning back to his maps. "How goes the defense?" he asked sourly.
Diego gazed unseeingly at Felipe's geometry. "There has been a development in the case, actually."
"Oh? Did Vargas confess at last?"
"No. I am almost completely convinced he is innocent."
"Oh, not this again!"
"Berto, if you had a younger brother who was nearly two feet taller than you and built like a bull, would you leave him behind when you robbed a bank?"
"What? In your dreams you are two feet taller - "
"Oh, no. Not me. Nestor Vargas."
There was a long pause. Gilberto set the pen in the inkwell. "You exaggerate."
"He is at least a foot taller than I am."
"Impossible…." And then, "His brother?"
Diego sagged. "His doting, adoring brother. Would you let me rob a bank without you?" He groaned. "If I robbed a bank, wouldn't you know if I were guilty or not?"
"If you robbed a bank, I would not care if you were guilty; that this man Nestor vouches for his brother means nothing!"
"Vouches? Nothing so easy. He bent the bars on the cell and took Enrique for lunch at the tavern."
"He bent…."
"Yes." Diego passed his hand over his face.
"So Vargas has escaped."
"Oh, no. They are going to stay for the trial. And if Enrique is found guilty, Nestor is going to raze our corrupt pueblo to the ground."
Gilberto jumped to his feet, but since there was nothing actually to do, he only stood and stared.
"The alcalde picked the wrong man for his scapegoat," Diego said sadly.
"So…let us say you are right and Vargas has been set up and Luis Ramone is about to face the consequences of his little frauds and games. Perhaps that is a good thing. If Vargas is, in fact, innocent."
Diego took a deep breath and shifted uneasily. "Nestor is also after the hide of the man who captured his brother in the first place."
"Oh, of course he is," Gilberto snarled disgustedly. "Isn't that lovely. I suppose you are going to say 'I told you so'?"
Diego only looked worried.
"A foot taller than you?" Gilberto asked uncertainly.
Diego nodded. "Quite a bit broader, too."
Slowly, Gilberto sat down and shrugged. "You'll win the case." He picked up the pen again. "It's nothing to worry about."
"Certainly not. I never said I was worried. However, since you now seem to be on my side of this, perhaps you would consider doing me a little favor?"
Gilberto smiled slightly. "Just a small one."
"Or two."
"Since you mention it."
tbc
