September 26, 1813
It was still dark when Felipe woke to the sound of Diego rummaging in the wardrobe looking for his boots. Felipe rubbed his eyes, left the warm nest of his bedroll, and got dressed. He had to hurry to catch up with Diego, who had a start on him, and they only paused for breakfast because Felipe pointed out he was hungry. Even with the detour to the kitchen, it was just dawn when they reached the barn.
Gilberto had saddled Viking, Sunshine, and Esperanza and was waiting. "I didn't think you were serious," Diego said. "You know, I don't need a baby sitter."
Gilberto only mounted.
Diego led them out to the orchard, to see for himself the damage the drought had done to the orange crop. Even his tally of the loss only dimmed his smile a little. Then he continued on to Boulder Creek where he dismounted and led Esperanza down to drink.
Gilberto slipped down beside him. "You're all but quivering, Diego. Perhaps you should sit down and rest for a minute."
"I think I have been very patient, all things considered. Graceful, even, in the face of my limitations and prognosis. Enjoying myself this morning is not going to kill me, so let me alone."
Gilberto blinked. "Right, then." He drew Viking aside and checked his hooves.
Felipe tapped Diego's arm. "It's too far for today...but we could go up to the vineyard."
Diego frowned. "Grapes? It's past the season, I don't..."
"The lake. Fishing!" He smiled. "Fantastic fishing up there." But it was six hours away, if you took the shortcut instead of the wagon track.
Diego smiled. "That's a very good idea. Soon."
They followed the creek downstream and then crossed over and climbed a low hill to look down on the King's Road. The sun was pleasantly warm by then and the clouds were round and white and just the sort Diego probably wanted to paint.
But probably not today. He was already tiring. He turned back to the house without being asked. They got home by mid-morning. "I thought Father went to town," Diego said.
"He did," Gilberto answered. But Dulcinea was in the coral. The twins glanced at each other.
Don Alejandro was in the parlor in intent conversation with Don Sebastian. He asked his guest to wait, and drew the twins into the library.
"What's wrong?" Gilberto asked. "You were meeting him at the tavern in town."
"The tavern is closed. The alcalde is worried about civil disorder and has closed all of the businesses for the day. The rancheros and businessmen will meet at Don Carlos' later." Don Alejandro sighed and ran his hands through his already shaggy hair. "Diego. Sit down. We have a problem, but nothing irrevocable has happened yet, I want you to remember that. We won't allow..."
Diego sat. He was placid and thoughtful, the opposite of Gilberto, whose face was already beginning to darken with anger in anticipation of whatever it was the alcalde had done.
Don Alejandro took a deep breath. "Senorita Victoria has been arrested."
"Again?" Gilberto asked disgustedly.
"On what charge?" Diego asked.
"The charge is murder." He watched Diego worriedly.
Diego didn't seem about to go pale or faint. He just looked a little surprised when he asked, "Has she killed someone?"
"No! Of course not. The evidence, from what I've heard, is that they don't have any other suspects. I promise you, Diego, she will not pay the price for a crime she did not commit. One way or another, we will settle this. You must not worry - "
"I'm not worried. Well, not about the outcome. I'm sure you'll get it sorted out. I am worried about Senorita Victoria. I think I'll go have Maria fix a hamper for her. Felipe, go harness up the rig." He rose smoothly, and, exchanging an inscrutable look with Gilberto, headed toward the kitchen.
Felipe knew better than to ask any questions until they were alone on the road. Of course, he didn't actually have to ask: Diego understood his curious look well enough.
"The alcalde cares about the appearance of public order, not the reality of justice. And Victoria has been an inconvenience since he arrived. He won't spend any time looking for the real murderer when he has a scapegoat right here."
"What will we do?"
"We will start by collecting information. After that...?"
Oh, well. After that it would be Zorro. Happily, Felipe traced a tiny "Z."
Diego nodded.
When they reached the pueblo Diego walked into the cuartel with a pleasant wave to the gate guard. A bit nervous, Felipe stayed right behind him. Sergeant Mendoza was on duty in the office next to the jail. He seemed a bit embarrassed about having arrested the senorita and also about asking to search the basket Diego was carrying for her.
Diego seemed only amused. "Everything in order, Sergeant? No files, no pistols?"
"No, but enough food here to feed an army. Ah-this bottle of wine, no. I cannot let her have that. A cup of wine, of course. We are not inhuman, but...the bottle is very heavy glass, you see." He looked abashed. "It could be used as a weapon."
"Then by all means, pour her a cup and confiscate the rest of the contraband." He smiled meaningfully.
Mendoza started to smile back, but he stiffened. "Don Diego. Did you really believe it would be necessary to bribe me in order to get a visit?"
Diego was taken aback. Quickly he said, "Not at all. But anyone might have been on duty. I had no way to know. Anyway, it is too convenient to call a bribe; my father owns the vineyard."
Mendoza, mollified, carried the basket into the inner room. He unlocked the cell, passed the basket in, and locked the door. Victoria blinked at the basket, then fished out a seedcake and nibbled on a corner.
Diego glanced after Mendoza and laid a hand on the bars caging Victoria in. "Are you all right?" he asked.
She tried to smile. "I have been arrested. Again."
"It must be very tiresome."
"Oh, yes. It was thoughtful of you to bring a basket."
"But more useful to figure out how to get you out of here. What happened?"
She set the seedcake back in the basket with a grimace. "This morning I found my guest dead! Stabbed through the heart! It was horrible. And then I was screaming and Mendoza was yelling and then the alcalde and some soldiers were there and..." she shrugged. "Suddenly, here I am."
Diego sighed. "It seems to me that the quickest way to get you out of there is to find out who did kill him. Who was he? What was he? Who were his enemies?"
Her eyes widened. "Diego, I have no idea! He arrived last night after closing. He demanded a room and paid in advance...He said to get him up at dawn, but he was dead when I..." She shook her head.
"So he didn't arrive on the stage," Diego said. "And he arrived alone. On horseback?"
She nodded. "That's right. He was carrying a saddlebag."
"How was he dressed?"
Victoria closed her eyes. "He wasn't a farmer. But he wasn't a gentleman of leisure, either. Somewhere in the middle? A bookkeeper. A merchant? A bit...flashy."
"Very good. What else can you tell me?"
"His name was Morales. He was very tall. And very rude. Oh, and he also had a mustache."
"The knife that killed him? Was it his own? Or was it something taken from your kitchen? Or something the murderer brought with him?"
"I...I saw it. I held it. It certainly wasn't mine. But was it his? I have no idea."
"No, of course not." Diego folded his arms and began to pace. "Still, it's an odd picture. Did he hand you his own knife and invite you to stab him? From the front, not the back, I take it?" Diego frowned harder and paced faster. "Unless the killer was some acquaintance living here in town, it must be a stranger."
"Well, if it is, they are not staying with me. He was my only guest."
"This would almost be easier if you had killed him," Diego murmured.
"Diego!"
"Well? a woman defending her safety and honor? Justice doesn't look too harshly on that. I don't suppose - ?"
"Diego! What a thing to say!"
Diego frowned impatiently, "Certainly, being willing and able to defend yourself must be better than the alternative. But you're not much of a liar, I'm afraid. If you had done it, I think you would have already confessed."
She giggled. "I think there might have been a compliment in there somewhere..."
"All of it. But we are getting off the point. What about his belongings?"
"The alcalde took them to lock up."
"Hmmmm. Reasonable. But he will be no help."
Victoria twined her hands together anxiously. "Diego, what is going to happen?"
"Well, the alcalde might keep you locked up as long as he can - because you do insist on making his life difficult. He'd lose the tax revenues from the tavern, though. And waiting for the magistrate would probably mean an acquittal: there is no evidence to speak of and there is an entire pueblo full of character witnesses. On the other hand, if he sends you to the capital his chances aren't much better. The evidence is still poor and the governor isn't a complete fool."
"But he might - Diego, I can't imagine going to Monterrey in one of those cages!"
Diego gripped a bar in one hand. "It won't come to that. I promise you. I am quite sure the alcalde can be bribed."
"What? Oh, you can't mean - Diego!"
"Obviously, we would rather not. Proving your innocence is a much better plan."
She sat down on the cot and covered her face with her hands.
"Victoria...it will be all right. I promise."
She looked up and nodded bravely. "I am sure you're right. Really, the idea that I killed him is silly. Why? To rob him? Why would I scream and draw attention to it? And even if I hadn't, how was I going to conceal the crime? Why didn't I take his valuables? If he even had any?" She threw up her hands. "And when did I become so skilled at knife fighting that I could kill a man with a single blow?"
"Excellent points, and they won't be wasted, I promise you. In the mean time, there are some other things I need to check on."
The went to the livery stable. Diego examined the dead man's horse and talked to the boy who had been working the barn the night before. He noticed a lot less than Victoria had. Then they went around to the back of the tavern. Diego did something to the door, opened it, and walked in.
Even for Diego - who did surprising things all the time - this seemed both odd and inappropriate. Though the tavern was closed, Victoria was a friend and trespassing on her property like a common sneak thief wasn't the way a grown man should act. When Felipe pointed out that this wasn't proper, Diego sighed and patted his head and slipped inside.
Felipe pulled the door gently to and sat down on the log stool to wait, trying to look bored and lazy. A kid with nothing to do. A servant hiding from work. Nobody worth paying attention to.
Actually, it wasn't hard to get people to not-pay-attention. As long as kids weren't up to the kind of trouble kids usually got up to (like, for example, going places you shouldn't), grown-ups were content to forget about them. And if you looked poor, well, as long as you were quiet, you would be ignored. It was almost a shame that the little space between the old mill, the back of the livery stable, and the tavern was so empty. There was no one to see Felipe being up to nothing...
He tried to imagine what Diego was up to. It was probably important. Ironically, while people would notice Diego, no one would worry about him being up to something. He was respectable...and also in poor health. He would never be up to anything...
Diego emerged a few minutes later. He looked both out of breath and puzzled. "I've seen fights," he said, after he'd relocked the door and sat for a moment on the seat Felipe had vacated. "They make a mess. There's blood to clean up, and I doubt Mendoza did. If Morales died in that room...he didn't put up any kind of fight. Someone stabbed him while he was drunk. Or asleep."
Felipe slid a finger around Diego's wrist.
"I'm fine. It's not a spell. Just those stairs."
Felipe patted his shoulder.
"I think we're done in town," Diego said. "Give me a minute and then we'll go back to the rig."
When they reached the main road, though, Diego pointed south instead of north. Felipe turned, but shrugged a question.
"Father and Gilberto went north, past the San Gabriel to Don Carlos' hacienda. They will be asking questions along the way. So we will go south: Don Antonio Pascal and Don Roberto Segovia."
So they went. It was a pleasant day, now that the heat of summer was gone.
They came to a tiny house almost hidden from the road by a stand of young apple trees. They had come through the drought looking kind of dry and tattered. Diego signed to halt the rig. He swung down and waved to an old man who was feeding geese in the yard.
The old man fumbled and dropped his pan of grain in surprise. "Don Diego? Senor, I am astonished to see you!"
Diego smiled charmingly, and presented Felipe to Santos Rodero. "When Gilberto and I were very small, his daughter was the sort of older girl who watched the little children at public events to make sure nobody fell into a creek or got trampled by a horse. We thought she was a terrible wet hen and a nag, but the day Gilberto got his foot stuck in a hole, she was the one who got it out."
The old man beamed. "That was a story I had not heard."
"Discrete as well as sympathetic. I was very sorry to hear that she had died."
"The grandson she left me is flourishing. I wish he were to meet you, but I'm sure you've seen him at church." He paused. "Sit down. I have some...well some bread and goat's milk. Please." He was quickly gone.
There were a couple of benches in the patch of hard ground before the hut, and Diego sat down. He looked as comfortable and content as though he were sitting in a cushioned chair in a fancy sitting room.
Santos returned with cups of milk and slices of barley bread. "Now. Senor. I cannot imagine you have come down to visit me."
"I'm afraid not. I've come on an urgent matter that may come to nothing. You have a good view of the road. I was wondering what travelers you might have seen in the last few days."
"Well, I'm not home in the early morning. I go up and tend the kitchen garden at the hacienda." He shrugged. "Day before yesterday, the coach went through. And a day or two before that a party of soldiers."
"No one late last night?"
Santos chuckled. "Oh, no, Don Diego. A traveler at night sets off the geese. Last month, Don Roberto sent for a doctor late at night. The geese went wild for the messenger and for the doctor both."
Diego nodded thoughtfully. "You've been a big help."
"I don't see how. I've told you nothing."
"You have told me what definitely didn't happen. That may be very useful."
As soon as he could politely take his leave, Diego collected Felipe and continued south in the rig. They stopped at the Pascal and Segovia estates, asking about traffic on the road. They talked to foremen and peons. Finally they found three boys about Felipe's age who had taken turns the night before watching for wolves. They assured them that no one had passed. Felipe was uncertain how reliable they were: in his opinion, most boys his age were disgracefully lazy.
When it was clear that no one had seen anyone traveling or something unusual or anything suspicious in the last week, Diego gave up and turned the horse toward home. It was late afternoon when they arrived.
Diego stumbled as he climbed from the seat. He was visibly unsteady all the way into the house, though he refused to reach for Felipe's arm. "You haven't eaten all day," he said muzzily. " I'm sorry - "
"It's fine," Felipe protested. "I'll get you settled, and then go to the kitchen. Come on. You can stay in the library, just lie down?" Please don't argue with me. Please.
But Diego gave him no trouble. Felipe got him settled on the settee with a glass of watered wine, and, satisfied, went to the kitchen. Maria had kept some beans and tortillas and for him. Watching Maria paring potatoes it occurred to him to use the rumor mill to his advantage for once.
Carefully (and with quite a lot of pantomime because Maria's signing wasn't even as good as Gilberto's) and working from the facts, Felipe spun her a story about what they'd learned in town; that the stranger had arrived late and had planned to leave early. That Victoria had found him dead in a tidy room, killed by a single blow with a knife-not a cooking knife, not one of Victoria's. And the alcalde was being very secretive. He must have been some kind of spy-ours? Someone else's? Killed for information he was carrying. Yes, someone had followed him and used a pistol to make him hand over his documents or plans...and then stabbed him, quickly, perfectly - an assassin could do that - because a gun would be too loud.
Maria scolded him for making up outrageous stories. Felipe just shrugged. "Did Victoria kill him? In her own tavern? How was she planning to hide the body?"
That got a giggle from Maria, as it should have.
"Anyway, how could she? Doesn't it take practice to kill someone?"
He left her to think about that and went back to Diego, who was asleep. Thank heaven! What had they been thinking, roaming all around the country side?
Victoria, of course.
Felipe took down the English grammar and tried to concentrate, but he'd been up very early and it had been a busy day.
He woke to the mundane and reassuring sound of the twins fighting:
"My God, this is a disaster!"
"It's not," Diego said reasonably.
"You tell me our murderer did not come from the south - well he did not come from the north! The last coach to go through didn't leave anyone. The only traveler on the King's Road who wasn't local was one rider last night - and he must be the murder victim. We don't have anyone to offer in Victoria's place."
"Even if there were an unidentified party on the road, 'Berto, it wouldn't prove anything. And he might already be gone. Now we know that whoever killed Morales, they live here. Someone he knew. Someone who knew he was coming. Someone who is still here."
Groaning, Gilberto brushed his hair out of his eyes. "What shall we do?"
"The alcalde has his belongings in his office. Perhaps he was carrying some correspondence...directions to someone's house...a personal journal?"
"Perhaps a signed confession?"
"Probably not. But we must find out who this man was, what enemies he might have had... It would be useful to know if his money was taken; robbery would be a motive, too. Although I wouldn't put it past Ramone to rob the dead, so if the money is missing it proves nothing."
"Well...it's true rifling his desk has become my new favorite hobby."
"Softly. Father is only in his office."
Gilberto sighed. "All right then. Tonight. And you?" He turned to Felipe. "How has he been?"
"No troubles," Felipe reported.
Gilberto smiled. "Well, that's something. And not a small something. We'll sort the rest of this out.