Good intentions (1)
In this chapter the commandante has a chance to do the right thing. However, the old habits win.
The licenciado meets a friendly man. The consequences are grave.
"No band of senile fools is going to tell me what to do!" hissed Monastario leaning over the table toward his opponents. "You better guard your cattle, Señores, and your lands, and guard your necks, if you do not want to lose it by your impudence."
He was standing against the whole Los Angeles council, in the middle of the most hellish row since many weeks… and damn, he enjoyed it.
"And you, Monastario, guard these lands and your duties if you do not want to lose your command by your incompetence!" shouted Alejandro de la Vega, half rising from his chair.
Apparently, at least some members of the council also enjoyed the restoration of the previous sincerity and openness in their relations.
"Por favour, we won't solve the problem by the exchange of insults," the alcalde raised calmingly his hands. "Let's return to this letter."
Monastario's sight fell once more at the small piece of paper, signed with the most distinctive letter 'Z' and the commandante felt his blood boil again.
"You dared to summon me here for this? For the letter of some wretched bandit? So, should I perhaps write him an answer?" he foamed. "Is it going to be a new custom here that we will correspond with the criminals? Instead of… instead of crushing the bastards like the vermin they are?"
"Capitán, no matter how despicable figure this man is, can't you try to hold your language?" chimed in Alejandro's son with reproach. The hell knows why he decided to come today with his father… At first the boy took a modest place in some corner and Monastario didn't pay attention to his presence, but then he kept throwing some stupid remarks he probably found amusing, and the commandante – extremely irritating.
"If my words offend you, Señor, why don't you leave? You are not even a member of this council," snapped back Monastario.
"But I find this conversation the most interesting. Besides, who would go out in such weather?" replied the young man with airy smile and the commandante with satisfaction noticed the other haciendados roll their eyes.
True, no one could say that the weather in Los Angeles was unstable this year. When after the weeks of heat and drought the rain finally came, it didn't pass for a week so far. Yet, young de la Vega was the only one of the rancheros who complained at it.
"The letter," sighed the alcalde. "No matter the author, this letter might be of importance. It suggests that there might be a fiendish plot endangering the lives and freedom of us all."
"If someone really organised all these attacks at the roads… if someone really intended to manipulate the Indians… it would mean that we are facing the group disposing of vast resources and very well organised," noticed Don Cornelio.
Monastario for one small second got a little abashed. He cast another glance on the letter, wondering again why the Fox described with accuracy all what he knew about the conspiracy, but didn't mention even one word neither about… the señorita, nor about the commandante's role in the affair… If he did, Monastario and the dons wouldn't be only yelling at each other… they would likely be engaged in armed confrontation. Apparently the bandit cared for getting rid of the external danger in the first place… but he knew what he knew and this knowledge could turn out dangerous for the commandante someday.
"First of all, we do not know who really wrote this letter," stated Monastario a bit calmer, hoping to seed some doubts and undermine the haciendados' trust in Zorro's name. "It could be anyone; anyone could use this alias and plant this letter by you, Alcalde, just to spread commotion in the pueblo. El Zorro hasn't been seen since many weeks so far. All the gossips that he appeared in the cuartel recently are false. He is most certainly gone, or even dead."
"If you think so, why did you announce such ridiculously high reward for his capture?" Don Augustin shrugged his shoulders.
"Ridiculously? I heard that it is well-earned," chimed in young de la Vega, raising his head from some notebook.
"And I heard nothing like this. As the matter of fact, I still didn't hear that he committed any crime," said his father and the note of challenge sounded in his voice, as he looked sternly at the commandante.
"He seriously compromised the security of the cuartel last time he appeared. The reward is just the security measure," replied Monastario.
"He only came to help this blacksmith because you challenged him. Besides, Capitán, your soldiers are hardly credible witnesses!" laughed Don Cornelio. "Some of them claim they saw not a man, but the demon, the ghost!"
"He is no more a ghost than he is a criminal," muttered Alejandro de la Vega.
"A ghost! What a morbid idea!" exclaimed his son. "Anyway, I believe that it is the common problem with the ghosts, you never know when they will start to haunt you again," he remarked with a yawn. "But the ghost writing a letter would be a peculiar phenomenon, don't you think, Senores?"
"Exactly, the letter," caught up the alcalde with tired face. "No matter who wrote it, if there is even the shadow of possibility it is true, we have to do something. I propose that we send the report to the governor, asking him for reinforcements and examination of the issue."
"I am not going to ridicule myself! There is no conspiracy! It is no more than a pack of rubbish!" Monastario angrily crushed the letter in his hand.
"You are strangely reluctant to bring this affair into light, Capitán. Are you perhaps afraid of the consequences?" stated Alejandro slowly, piercing Monastario with scrutinizing glance. His narrowed eyes, his ironic politeness, immediately brought into the commandante's mind the masked bandit. Damn, it wasn't the first time when Alejandro reminded him about Zorro. Monastario definitely preferred the proud haciendado to yell, at least then he didn't awake such troubling associations.
"What are you suggesting, Senor?" he hissed angrily. "That I am working with the bandits? That I am attacking merchants on the roads? You are forgetting, who is the bandit here!" he raised his voice, throwing the crushed letter on the table. "Your Zorro is! And I wouldn't be surprised if it turned out that he is the one plotting with some criminals!"
"So, to sum up your line of reasoning, Capitán, you think that the bogus bandit is colluding with the non-existent conspiracy by revealing their agenda to their victims? That would be a very sophisticated plot indeed!" observed the young de la Vega and a few dons, including the alcalde, choked with strangled laughter.
Monastario turned sharply toward the young man. He hated being laughed at.
"You allow yourself too much, Senor. Besides, it is not your place. What exactly are you doing here?" he snarled angrily, but the dandy only raised his notebook:
"Drawing," he replied with most innocent expression and, when Pina leant to him to see the picture, moved it aside with apologizing smile: "I am sorry, it is not finished yet."
Oh, yes, Pina. Pina was there too. It was easy to forget him, as the licenciado during the whole quarrel sat quietly under the wall pretending to be no more than a piece of furniture. Well, generally he was recently very quiet. After the strange display of irritation that Monastario barely noticed, as his thoughts were preoccupied with… with someone he didn't want to recall now, Pina returned to his usual silent and meek disposition. The commandante was very satisfied with it.
"The letter, Senores," sighed the alcalde, hiding his face in his palms. "We should do something. If you do not want to ask the governor for help, Capitán, why don't we organise the civil watch, just in case, to prevent any further attacks?"
"Launching the investigation by official authorities would be a better solution. I think that…" started young de la Vega, but Monastario, infuriated by the alcalde's proposal, shouted:
"The last thing I am going to allow is for you to wander around pretending to be an army and mess with my duties!"
"We have the right to defend ourselves!" Don Cornelio, usually so calm and composed, unexpectedly lost his temper. "This intrigue was aimed against us!"
"What intrigue? There was a drought, now it is raining! That's all!"
"No, Capitán," Ignatio Torres took voice for the first time. He kept silence long, but now he spoke with the certainty that always made Monastario dream about seeing this man on the gallows. "There was something more. Apart from the drought that has been tormenting us so long, there is something strange happening around here. Zorro's letter only confirms my earlier suspicions."
Monastario turned toward him with clenched fists… and stopped. Torres' words sounded so familiar… He heard clearly the hateful voice of his masked nemesis: "The drought that has been tormenting us". Us. Oh, yes, Zorro was not some lost desperado, he was one of these men, so arrogant because of their blood and their wealth, one of his enemies, now plotting with them to destroy him… The wrath grasped Monastario's throat and blurred his vision.
"So, you are now sitting here speaking in one voice with the bandit? The traitor? It makes traitors of all of you!" he hissed so hatefully that the men sitting near him flinched back in surprise. "You are siding with him; you are covering for him, because he is one of you!"
The dons looked at themselves for a moment in astonished silence and then… they burst out with laughter.
"You flatter us, Capitán," chuckled Don Cornelio, correcting the jacket over his well-rounded belly.
Monastario stared around a bit unconsciously. He really, really hated being laughed at.
"I wasn't referring to you personally," he muttered angrily, but no one paid attention in the new wave of chuckles. Some dons wiped the joyous tears from their eyes.
"You said once that I recruited this man, now you are saying that it is one of us behind this mask?" called merrily Alejandro de la Vega. "I like the second charge better, it makes me feel young again."
"Come on, Alejandro, neither of us got rusted yet," Don Augustin leant to his friend, patting his shoulder.
"Oh, certainly, I still remember which end of the blade you grab in your hand and which you stab in your enemy," he replied with a bit dreamy sigh.
Monastario for a moment just stood, abashed, red and angry, listening to the slobbered dons. Even the young de la Vega looked at his father with warm smile… but Alejandro didn't cast even one glance in his direction.
Well, nothing strange. Monastario didn't need the spies to know how the atmosphere at the de la Vega hacienda worsened recently.
All because of An… of her.
When Senor Peréz and his daughter, whose name Monastario so desperately tried to forget, left Los Angeles in an unexpected and almost offensive hurry for their hosts, for a moment the whole pueblo buzzed with gossip. Instead of a wedding, there was a scandal. Alejandro wasn't the only one to blame his son for the failed arrangements. Most of the people commented that it was because of the hesitant and languid disposition of the young man, that the pretty senorita got tired waiting for the proposal, lost her temper and left. And Alejandro, who probably already envisioned many joyous events in his family, was disappointed. Very disappointed. He didn't let his son forget about this disappointment.
It surprised Monastario a little that the boy didn't protest even once against such gossips. But still, perhaps An… perhaps the senorita managed somehow to convince everyone around her, including the young man himself, that this was exactly the reason of her sudden departure? She was a talented liar, and de la Vega never learnt the real her. Fleetingly, Monastario almost felt sorry for him. After all he didn't lose… her because of the young dandy, only because the masked bandit. To hell with de la Vega and his silly quips, he was no more than the jester… She left because of the Fox… and the Fox will pay me for it, thought vengefully Monastario.
Shaking off the reminiscences, he looked at the cabildo with new energy.
"Did I amuse you, Señores? Good. Because what I am going to say now, you may find not so joyous. To start with…" he was interrupted by the doors crackling behind his back and angrily turned toward the intruder, expecting to see Garcia who was to keep the guard under the door.
But it definitely wasn't the fat, slovenly lancer. The man who peeked into the room was… he was slim, tiny and ridiculously elegant.
"I am sorry, but I was told that I will meet here…" he started with an apologizing smile, but Monastario cut him off:
"Out, Señor! You are disturbing the meeting."
"I beg your pardon," the man bowed courteously, yet smoothly sneaked into the room, "but I heard that here I will meet the commandante and the cabildo, so…"
"Whatever business you have, Señor, wait outside. I will meet you later," replied Monastario harshly. "Garcia!" he yelled toward the door to ask the sergeant to throw the stranger out and to tell him off for letting anyone inside at the first place.
But the sergeant only helplessly unfolded his hands, silently pointing at the next visitor entering the room, another unknown man, who… who was wearing a military uniform. Worse, a captain's uniform.
"Once again, I beg your pardon, Señores," the unknown dandy used the moment of Monastario's surprise to finish his speech, "but I thought it will be a good occasion to meet both the commandante of the pueblo and the council. My task here will require strict cooperation with all of you."
Monastario stared for a moment at the unknown officer. The man simply entered the room and placed himself under the wall, without the smallest gesture of greeting or salute toward the fellow serviceman. His eyes never left the elegant stranger and suddenly Monastario felt that he might be someone worth listening to.
"What do you mean, Señor?" he asked much calmer.
"I am appointed by the governor," started the stranger looking at Monastario almost apologetically, "in a certain delicate matter. Your letters, Señores," now courteous glance and bow was directed at the surprised cabildo, "your complaints for the… for the commandante," another glance toward Monastario, full of compassion, but not abashed even a little, "the governor wants them to be examined, I am his emissary in this issue."
What? luckily Monastario managed to strangle the surprised exclamation. What the hell?... he thought almost helplessly, struggling not to allow to his face the sign of confusion.
Suddenly he reminded himself about the plea that Don Augustin took to Monterey after Torres' arrest, about some weird calculations of the cuartel's finances that the cabildo sent later… True, Pina told him about it, but… no one ever cared for such things! Why now?... He must have… misheard something….
The commandante cast quick glance at the gathered dons and the first smiles on their faces told him, that he heard well.
"How far goes your mandate, Señor?" asked Monastario sharply.
"It is just an… informal investigation, Commandante. The governor wants to get more precise information about this… misunderstanding," replied the emissary soothingly, but Monastario didn't feel calmed at all. 'Informal investigation' meant that the governor sent his trusted friend. So, he really got interested in the matters of Los Angeles… The dons must have come to the same conclusion as their smiles became wider.
"Welcome in our pueblo, Señor," the alcalde took voice in their name. "We kept hoping that our pleas will be considered and we put great expectations in your mission."
"All citizens' requests are always considered with the most attention," replied the emissary with the next courteous bow. "Let me introduce myself to you, esteemed Señores. Magistrado Camero at your service. And my invaluable friend here," he pointed at the officer, "is Capitán Gonzales. I am glad I can count on your cooperation."
"Oh, certainly, you can count on it, Magistrado," muttered Alejandro de la Vega.
They are already feasting my dismissal, thought gloomily Monastario, noticing with discontent that Pina scattered somehow the pile of papers lying on the chair near him. Really, this stupid licenciado should do better to hide his anxiety. It wasn't time to panic yet. There is a long road between starting the investigation and its results and the commandante had still many assets in his sleeve.
He took a deep breath, concentrating. The first thing would be to finish this misfortunate meeting before it gets out of control. He certainly didn't want to lead his first conversation with Camero in front of the council.
"Señor, you must be tired after the journey. Where do you intend to stay?" he asked hastily. "I will arrange rooms for you and your servants in the tavern. And you, Capitán, may prefer to accommodate yourself at the cuartel?" he turned with polite smile to the officer… but the man didn't even bother to answer.
"No, no, that's not necessary," replied Camero for them both. "We are in rather numerous company, there are a few lancers with the capitán, and I have a handful of servants. We decided to hire the house in town; the one that your fabric merchant wanted to rent."
Monastario peeked through the window. There was not only the carriage that Camero must have used, but also a fully loaded cart, with cargo tightly covered with canvas. Certainly the magistrado didn't travel light… And yes, there were plenty of servants bustling around it… And lancers! Damn, he will have now some soldiers at the pueblo not under his orders!
"Can we arrange the next meeting for tomorrow then?" asked the alcalde.
"I'd like to get myself acquainted with the situation first," replied Camero. "In the meantime, you could provide me with the list of your complaints…"
"Don't you have them with you, Señor Magistrado?" suddenly sounded the voice of the young de la Vega. Monastario noticed that he was now staying by the window, observing Camero's men, just as the commandante.
"Them with me?..." repeated blankly Camero and for the first time his suave expression distorted the shadow of confusion. Monastario smirked with satisfaction – at least that insufferable fop had carped on someone else…
"Our complaints were listed in the letters… in these three letters we sent to the governor. Don't you have them with you?" the young man's voice sounded impatiently, as if he got irritated with the perspective of preparing the documents again.
"Yes, I have them of course," replied Camero slowly. "I just thought you would like to add something."
"And we most certainly will," replied firmly Alejandro de la Vega. "Many things have happened here since our last complaint. Stay out of this, Diego, please."
His 'please' sounded so commanding, that his son only stepped back, farewelling the magistrado with a bow.
When Camero left, all gathered men for a moment remained in tense silence. Monastario absently thought that he will arrest anyone who would try to mock him with some triumphant remark. Yet the first one to speak was the young de la Vega, asking the most casual question:
"That… Gonzales, doesn't appear to be too friendly, does he? Do you know him, Capitán?"
"No, I don't. Why?" gnarled Monastario.
"Oh, I just thought that military men always… stay together. You know, because of these uniforms. I thought that they create some… hmm… sense of community," prattled the young man, unaware of impatient glances that some dons sent him. "By the way, do you remember that story of the Prussian cheater who took control over fortress Spandau, just because he appeared there in the stolen uniform with high distinctions? Funny thing how much people are going to believe in just seeing the uniform, don't you agree?'
"Diego, no matter how amusing this story is, it is the last thing we should now…" started angrily his father, but stopped upon hearing the quiet voice of the alcalde.
"Diego, are you suggesting that these men are disguised imposters?"
"What? No!" laughed de la Vega. "Why and how could anyone do something so stupid? Such cheat could be so easily disclosed, it would be enough to… well to send someone to Monterey and check his credentials, so…"
"Diego, please, you are only distracting us," interrupted him Don Augustin."And you yourself are so distracted today. For example these letters, we sent only two of them, don't you remember?"
"I must have forgotten," muttered the young man seeming to be confused, but then he raised his head with slightly malicious glitter in his eyes: "Apparently the magistrado forgot it too."
"Diego, Diego, you were eager to help us with writing down our complaints… you believed it to be a good idea. Why aren't you satisfied now, when they finally started to bring effects?" asked gently the alcalde.
"Oh, I am satisfied, really!" excused himself the young man. "I am very pleased to see the governor's emissary among us… especially that he is such a clever man with good recognition of local affairs. He barely stepped foot out of the carriage and he already knows the suitable house to rent."
Monastario just stood, leaning his fists over the table top, and listened. The boy was prattling something, the dons were shivering with impatience to grip Monastario's throat, and none of these… irregularities they spoke about was truly suspicious. They all could be explained in the most innocent way. Still, the commandante was the only man here knowing that behind the most recent casual coincidences stood something… more.
But if this were a cheat, it would require the involvement of someone well informed about his conflict with the council, about affairs of the pueblo…
Like, for example, Anna. She knew it all. Damn, what exactly was in these documents I gave her? cursed silently Monastario, feeling the sting of panic.
"All right, that's enough for me," he cut the conversations. "I am sending the lancer to Monterey to check the credentials of this man and before I have them confirmed, I am not going to move a finger at his orders."
"That's ridiculous!" burst out Alejandro. "You would do anything just to keep your office a little longer!"
"A few days won't make a difference, Father, and…" started calmingly his son, but he earned only Alejandro's angry glance.
"Not a word more, Diego! You said enough. Now, Capitán, if you do not mind we would like to discuss the situation alone."
"Of course, Señores. Feel free to… discuss… as long as you want," said mockingly Monastario and left waving for Pina to follow him.
"Go to this emissary. Ask whether he needs anything, talk with him like… like the lawyer to the lawyer, and bring me some news," he ordered as soon as they were outside. Seeing that the licenciado hesitated, as if wanting to object or say something, he urged him angrily: "What are you waiting for? Go!"
Pina went toward the house the emissary intended to rent almost dizzy with anxiety and unanswered questions. Was it the same Camero whom López mentioned in his letter? How could he now be the governor's official? Could it all be… the governor's provocation? And if so, the first question was, how will Pina trick himself out of it?
About half an hour later, all his fears were dispersed and he was convinced that Camero is one of the most likable men in California.
The emissary welcomed him with a cordial smile that became even wider when he heard his name – and he referred to López's letter with all openness. Leaving the dealings with the house owner to his subordinates, he immediately invited Pina to another room, ordered some refreshments and started to chat with him as with old acquaintance.
"So you used to live in Mexico, Licenciado?" he inquired curiously "I spent some time there too. Perhaps we share common friends."
"I doubt it. I lived far from San Francisco Street," Pina shook his head, amused with the idea that the high official thought they could move in the same circles.
"Oh, oh, I lived there, true, but I visited other quarters too…" laughed Camero with a bit roguish sparkle in his eyes. "Searching for adventure and amusement… Well, mostly amusement. But I am sorry, perhaps recalling my… sins of youth offends such serious man as you, Licenciado?"
Pina looked at him incredulously. No, he wasn't joking. The emissary really looked at him… with respect. Now, that was an entirely new experience for the licenciado…
"You are too kind for me, Señor Magistrado," he muttered unsurely.
"The title will never substitute the experience," said warmly Camero, bowing toward Pina to indicate that the compliment was on him. Then he added with a merry chuckle: "Besides, I owe my title only to the wealth of my family, so there is nothing in it I could brag about."
Pina couldn't resist but chuckle as well, feeling a growing liking to this friendly and unpretentious man. Monastario never chatted with him like that.
For a moment in his head clang the shadow of warning. How was it? The more friendly the man is… No, no. The magistrado was a friendly man, that's all. After all, there must be some simply friendly men in this world.
"The matter with loans is not actual any longer. There have been certain difficulties…" said Camero, pouring them more wine. "Tell me, Licenciado, have you talked about it with the commandante?"
"I have kept the discretion your friends asked me for," replied Pina, getting wary again.
"Good. Very good. I think that we will continue this way," stated Camero with pensiveness.
Pina shook his head. That was slowly becoming too complicated for him to follow.
"But I got the feeling that the commandante is helping you…"
"Yes, he is. But that's how we work," said Camero, and seeing Pina's confused glance, he sighed: "How could I explain it to you, Licenciado… Tell me, how much do you know?"
"Not much," admitted Pina. "Your friends were very… mysterious."
"Ah, you met López and Ramírez! Well, no wonder you seemed so scared about the whole undertaking! They like to appear sooo fearsome!" Camero laughed loudly. "Don't worry, they are just two pompous poseurs."
The licenciado almost laughed with him, but then he furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. No, the whole affair wasn't as innocent as Camero seemed to suggest.
"They came to the pueblo with the falsified bill," he noticed quietly.
The magistrado stopped laughing and became serious.
"Sí, they came to the pueblo with the falsified bill," he said looking straight in Pina's eyes.
Strange, but such openness immediately calmed him. At least this man was honest with the licenciado. He listened gladly, when the emissary continued.
"Our company, our association… you could say we are traders, my friend. We are… firm… and yes, we are not shy of the methods that a mild-tempered person could call controversial. But it shouldn't be difficult for you, Licenciado, after all this commandante you used to work for is not an angel as well, I suppose?"
Used to work for? When did it become the past? thought Pina in confusion. Camero must have took his silence for confirmation, as he nodded and continued:
"As for all these secrets – it is just business, my friend. A bit of discretion is good for trade," he smiled a little jokingly. "That's why we are so protective about the identity of our… partners."
Perhaps it was logical. Pina wanted it to be logical. Trade. It sounded good.
"So, how do you know who your partners are?" he asked and Camero beamed, as if he was to show him his favourite toy.
"Let me explain," he said unwrapping the leather folder he had with him and taking out the bunch of eagle's feathers. Pina's eyes widened at the strange markings cut on them.
"This one means the member," said Camero raising one of the feathers. "All our members have such and before… before the deal, they present it. So, this is mine," he said hiding it in the separate pocket, "and this one is for you. Hide it well, Licenciado, and do not show it too eagerly," the tone of strange warning sounded in his voice as he handed him the feather and for a small second Pina wondered whether he should take it.
People around whispered about a fiendish plot. About hired robbers. Spies.
Pina had so many bad premonitions before. Shouldn't he trust them?
But, after all, being honest, so really, really honest: wasn't it just what he always wanted? Strong friends who would appreciate his services… and who could protect him?
Monastario didn't respect him. And, what's more, it seemed that he soon will be unable to protect not only his allies, but also himself.
So, Licenciado Pina took the feather, slowly running his fingers down the cuts on its side.
"Now, this is the sign of the messenger," continued Camero pointing at another pattern of markings. "If someone brings you a message together with such feather, it means that he knows nothing about us, but the message he carries is trustworthy."
"And this one?" asked Pina taking the third type of the feather, with a big part of pinion cut off.
"Ah, this… Nothing pleasurable," Camero stuttered a little. "If someone shows you such feather… but no, no one would set such task upon you, Licenciado. Forget it," he finished quickly hiding the feathers in the folder.
"Now, Licenciado, as for your commandante… He appears to be very… unpredictable man, with his allegiance only to his own interests. Forgive me for speaking in such way about your former patron, but you know I am right. He would switch sides the first moment he decided that would serve him better…" sighed Camero as if wondering about people's unreliability. Then he leaned to Pina with a small smile: "And that is exactly what I need to know. As soon as he switches sides, I must know it."
They want a spy close to Monastario… realised Pina, No, no, they only want to make sure they won't be cheated. That's wise. Of course that Enrique serves no one but himself.
Still, he couldn't resist the impression that there was something… ugly about it. Whatever could be said about Monastario, they had a deal and actually… strange, but actually, the commandante never broke it.
But he would, if he only found it useful. He doesn't care for me more than for a servant. I had more than enough proofs for it, thought bitterly Pina and, seeing that Camero waits for his answer, calmly nodded.
The magistrado smiled again and continued:
"You will tell no one about our conversation. You will officially still work for the commandante. Stay close to him. If he appoints you to the contacts with me concerning my investigation – the better, we will have the occasion to meet often."
"There is one thing I do not understand. You belong to this association and you are here as the governor's emissary?" asked shyly Pina and, when Camero signed he does not understand the question, he gathered his courage and précised. "The governor's mandate… you really have it?"
"Of course," laughed the magistrado, luckily not seeming to be offended.
"Good," sighed Pina with relief, "as the commandante just sent someone to Monterey to check it."
"He did?..." Camero narrowed his eyes and stiffened for a second. "Oh. Really. What a hot-headed man… Well, Licenciado, as I told you, there is nothing to worry about," he stood up, signing that the meeting was over.
Pina was already at the door, when he turned back with hesitation.
"One last question, if you allow, Magistrado… You spoke about trade. What do you mostly trade with?"
Camero stood in silence for a while, before he replied with a courteous smile.
"Land. Mostly land."
"Ranchos? Estates?" précised Pina.
"Yes. Very big estates," nodded the emissary and his eyes glittered as if he found something funny in this answer.
True or lie? thought Monastario, tossing in his bed through the sleepless night. Is it the next scene of this plot? I could learn to know. I could go to him and throw Anna's feather on his desk, and watch his face… But if he isn't one of them, the price would be too high… If I make one false step now, it will be my end.
He thought bitterly how people in the pueblo must feel happy with his troubles. Oh, what bad timing this emissary had! If he had arrived two weeks earlier, he would have seen the cells in the cuartel loaded with the bandits and heard at least some haciendados speaking about Monastario with respect. But after… after the señorita left, the commandante became rather… ticklish.
When on the next day after her departure Don Alfredo came asking that the lancers chase thieves who tried to rob his hacienda, Monastario ordered him thrown out of the cuartel. Then he fined some vaqueros that blocked the street with the broken carriage and as they happened to be de la Vega vaqueros, in few hours the commandante had on his head not only half of the cabildo demanding apologies to Don Alfredo, but also very irritated Alejandro, shouting something about mistreatment of his men. Oh, and there was also Padre Felipe, defending some natives that Monastario expelled from the pueblo, as he somehow couldn't bear the view of Indians any more… Finally the commandante ordered them all out and closed the gates of the cuartel… and it was obvious for everyone that the short period of sweet peace in Los Angeles was over.
Yes, now they all would welcome his dismissal, he saw it in their smiles when the magistrado arrived… True, it was never his intention to be... liked. He wanted respect and obedience, not popularity. And yet it wasn't comfortable to know that if he got accused, there wouldn't be even one man here speaking for him.
Well, perhaps Pina would. It wouldn't make any difference, but still…
And if Camero was an imposter? No matter how unbelievable it seemed, the commandante recalled gladly all these strange, small remarks of the young de la Vega. Of course, the magistrado could simply have forgotten about the haciendados' letters, after all most officials didn't like to bother themselves too much with paperwork, leaving that to their secretaries… He could have heard about the house for rent in some tavern on his way, or even in Monterey… And Gonzales might be a new officer, recently arrived from Spain. On the other hand, de la Vega put it in such way… Ouch, who could say I will seek comfort in the prattle of some miserable jester! I have fallen low indeed! gnarled Monastario, covering his head with the pillow.
To appease his troubled mind, he started to recall the members of the most prominent families in the neighbourhood, wondering which of them could be the Fox. He named them one by one, trying to keep an alphabetical order, one face after another… He came as far as to Don Cornelio Esperón and, having decided in his last conscious thought that neither the corpulent haciendado, nor his pretty, though brazen, daughter can appear as the masked bandit, he finally managed to fall asleep.
On the next morning Monastario woke up in a better mood, ready to act. To start with, he wanted to get as much information about the emissary as possible, so that he would be well prepared to their first substantial conversation. When he saw the group of lancers chatting on the yard, for a moment he stood in the doors of his office and listened, hoping for some news from the tavern.
Unfortunately the soldiers seemed to be even less oriented than their commandante.
"What exactly is the magistrado here for, Sergeant?" asked one of them.
"He will be reading a lot of papers to check whether things here are in order and people are treated justly," preached to them Garcia with very wise expression.
"Why does he have to read the papers to learn it? Everyone sees how the things are," noticed Reyes, shrugging his tiny shoulders.
"I don't know, but the people from the government always read a lot of papers," Garcia kept the tone of expert.
"And then?"
"Then they write papers for other people in government to read."
"Ah, I understand," for a moment the corporal seemed satisfied, but then he once more furrowed his eyebrows in confusion: "And the people are treated more justly after that?"
"Yes, because then they raise taxes for everyone," muttered Garcia, adding quieter: "and cut the payroll for the lancers if the commandante is found guilty."
And dismiss the commandante, finished gloomily Monastario this astute analysis, nearing to the group.
"Have you perhaps talked with these new soldiers that arrived with the magistrado? Have they been in the tavern yesterday?" he asked, but the lancers only shook their heads.
"Neither of them left their house," answered Garcia and Monastario hummed angrily. Discipline of these men was the last thing he needed. Now he could count only on Pina… who, by the way, somehow forgot to report to the commandante yesterday.
"Go to Licenciado Pina and ask him to be so kind and visit me if he finds time," he muttered bitingly to Reyes.
The corporal stood motionless, staring at the commandante with surprised eyes.
"Fetch him here immediately!" yelled Monastario and Reyes' face beamed with understanding.
Waiting for Pina, the commandante wondered how to organize his meeting with the emissary. Should he perhaps now visit him with all the documents, to appear so open and professional? Or perhaps the neat dinner with good wine would be more in place? Damn, he needed here some advice…
He was close to sighing with relief, when he saw Pina in the gate.
"Licenciado, I have been expecting you since yesterday," Monastario remarked in a slightly offended tone. "Come to my office and tell me what you have managed to learn," he said quietly and turned, but Pina stopped him.
"I am afraid I do not have much to report," he said hesitantly. "Camero was sent here by the governor, he doesn't seem to be prejudiced neither against you, nor against the dons… that's all."
"Oh, please, have you forgotten how to deal with such issues?" bridled Monastario, whispering with irritation: "What is he like? What are his expectations? Is he the man to bribe? To threaten? Do I have to teach you now?"
"No, but… he is just hard to read," Pina stared at the dust under his feet.
"All right then. Go to him again and ask if he wants to visit the archives today. If not, pass him my invitation for dinner," sighed Monastario. "Just open your eyes a bit wider this time."
"I will, certainly," nodded the licenciado and quickly turned so eager to leave, that he almost collided with Alejandro de la Vega entering through the gate.
"Capitán, I am afraid I have bad news for you," said the don, helping Pina to keep balance.
Now what? Did they already manage to make some arrangements with the magistrado? Monastario immediately boiled with anger. I won't allow them to mock me!
"Keep them to yourself," he snarled angrily turning back, but the haciendado called after him.
"Capitán, listen! It is important."
Monastario froze. Something was off here. Alejandro's voice was not challenging or ironic, but… did he dare to speak to the commandante with compassion?... He slowly turned to the haciendado again and listened.
"One of my suppliers was arriving at dawn at the hacienda… the road was too muddy and he rode off it…" started Alejandro and Monastario realized with astonishment that he is hesitant how to approach the subject. "Then he noticed down in the ravine the body… I am afraid it is your lancer, Capitán, he is dead."
The lancer. He sent yesterday the lancer to Monterey.
Dead?
"Where is he?" asked Monastario in the silence that fell on the yard, as the lancers around him ceased even to breathe, looking at one another in disbelief.
"Still where he was found. Diego insisted that you would prefer to see exactly where and how he died. I will show you the way."
It was a mistake. No one would kill his lancer. It could be someone in a blue jacket, or someone in a stolen uniform… And these fools just panicked that's all. Why didn't they bring the body here? If they had done it, he would have known everything already. Now he had to ride so long before he made sure…
"Your son reads too many books," gnarled Monastario, saddling the horse. He could send someone, but he wanted to see what really happened as soon as possible.
He fought with harness, somehow all these belts didn't want to go in the right place. It crossed through his mind that actually he should ask one of the lancers to do it, but, not knowing why, he didn't say anything and when Garcia neared to help him, he moved him harshly aside.
"Shall we go with you, Capitán?" the sergeant asked quietly. "Or do you want us to follow you with the cart for the body?"
"We will send the cart from the hacienda. You could now notify Padre Felipe, to prepare the service," called Alejandro and when Monastario didn't comment, the sergeant nodded.
The commandante was already in the saddle when he noticed that Pina is crumbling on the horseback too.
"What are you doing, Licenciado?" he asked sharply. "There is no need for you to ride with me."
"I will write a report… a death certificate…" muttered feebly Pina.
"You don't have to do anything like this," cut him off Monastario, but when Pina in spite of this followed him and Alejandro, he didn't pay attention to the lawyer anymore.
If someone really killed my lancer he will regret it, thought vengefully the commandante as they were leaving the pueblo. I swear he will.
There was plenty of violent death around. Monastario killed people in fight, or sent them to the gallows, or to penal colonies where they were bound to die in a few months… That was understandable and simple. But if someone killed his lancer… it was like the worst offence thrown straight into his face.
No one would dare. No one, repeated Monastario. After all, usually the view of the uniform was enough for the people to quiet and for the tavern's tussles to cease. No one would dare to challenge me in such way.
Suddenly the commandante realized, that none of the lancers he had in Los Angeles was killed. The worst thing that happened so far was when one of the soldiers got a nasty cut through the face. Very nasty cut, that left very nasty scar. The boy fully recovered, but his face was deformed for a lifetime. The other lancers laughed at him that he won't find any woman willing even to look at him… Though, no one can measure women's defiance. Anita Delgado, the prettiest girl at the pueblo, who earlier paid no attention to the poor soldier, even if he made sweet eyes to her since months, after this accident dragged him to the back room of her father's bakery and did something that Padre Felipe with all severity forbade young girls to do.
Monastario smirked recalling the fuss the baker made later, demanding compensation for seducing his daughter. The commandante, bored with the commotion, closed the baker in one cell and the guilty soldier in another – but then he had the girl crouching at the gate and throwing herself to his knees all in tears each time he tried to exit, begging him to release them both. Finally it was Garcia who found the solution to the problem. In his report, the lancer's wound magically prolonged to his shoulder, leaving him unable to further service. The boy received nice indemnity and the piece of land, the girl got the ring and the baker was soon to get a grandson to pamper.
"You are laughing, Capitán?" Alejandro's voice interrupted his musing.
Monastario bridled at the tone of condemnation in his voice, but he couldn't bear someone claiming that the commandante was laughing at the death of his soldier.
"I was thinking about that lancer who got wounded through the face a few months ago," he replied.
"Ah, Manuel," recalled de la Vega. The slight smile appeared on his face too, but faded quickly. "I am afraid that this time we cannot count for such happy ending," he sighed turning his horse from the trail into a small ravine.
At first Monastario noticed only the palomino horse bound to the tree and Alejandro's son sitting near it. And only then, after casting the first glance at the young man, the commandante finally realized that something really bad happened.
The boy was so… dirty.
The rain was still drizzling and both Monastario and Alejandro wore long, dark coats, but the young de la Vega was only in one of his usual fair suits, now miserably ruined by wet grass, mud and rain. Yet the dandy didn't seem to care this time, neither for the stains on his trousers and sleeves, nor for the trickles of water dripping from his hair – he just sat with a bare head in gloomy silence... Seeing the arriving men, he didn't stand up, only wordlessly pointed at the body lying just near the rock he was sitting on. It was half hidden in the grass, but the colorful lancer's uniform was clearly visible.
When the commandante leant over the corpse, de la Vega removed the scarf covering the face of the dead man. Monastario fleetingly noticed that his knuckles were bruised to blood as if he hit at something harsh with his fist. Did he again fall off something? he mused numbly, but all his thoughts were occupied by the body of the murdered man.
It was his lancer, there could be no doubts about it, lying here with one big wound in his breast. Just through the heart. Whoever did it was shooting simply to kill… and he was a good shooter.
"Poor Felipe," sighed Alejandro nearing to them. Pina left somewhere behind, struggling to dismount from the horse as if such effort was beneath his strengths. "So young… How long was he in service? No more than two years, wasn't he?"
"Yes… I think so…" nodded Monastario a bit ashamed that he didn't remember. He didn't know. The soldier was already here when he took command.
For a moment he was surprised with the clenching grief he felt, recalling that only yesterday the boy stood in front of him so alive, taking the orders slightly abashed as usual when he spoke directly to the commandante.
Then the grief was gone and Monastario felt the burning fury… together with the sting of anxiety. It was as if someone attacked him directly. Someone really did it. Someone was… bold enough, confident enough, to throw him the most insulting challenge.
Someone here didn't fear him at all.
"I asked some native boys from the hacienda to check the trails," said heavily Alejandro's son. "The ground is so muddy that they were still visible, but they led them only to the road to the pueblo. Then there were too many other tracks and they got lost. Yet, whoever did it, he was heading for the pueblo."
Monastario nodded. Well, probably his lancers wouldn't manage to read even so much from the muddy road.
"This is the man you sent to Monterey yesterday?" asked the young man.
"Yes," replied absently the commandante.
"He has still his purse," de la Vega pointed at the pouch fastened to the belt of the lancer, "So he was not killed by robbers. Or did he have something precious in the saddlebags?"
"No," Monastario was getting slightly irritated. Did this bookworm now decide to play in the investigation? Nevertheless, he checked the lancer's purse – it was intact. Few pesos for a short stay in Monterey and Monastario's letter to the governor were still there. The commandante stood up, when the next question of the young man forced him to look at the body once more.
"Could you tell, Capitán, whether he was shot from the musket, or the rifle, or something else?..."
"Such big wound? It must have been musket," replied Monastario with a sigh. Wasn't it obvious?
"And you sent him to verify the emissary's credentials?" repeated slowly de la Vega.
"Yes, I just told you that," groaned Monastario, thinking that his patience with this boy is just to finish.
And then he froze.
The emissary. Magistrado Camero.
Why didn't he think about it earlier? Not everyone here had the musket, it was an expensive weapon, too powerful for petty robbers. But all the lancers did… and Magistrado Camero had the soldiers with him. What's more, if he was the imposter, he would have a good reason to stop the lancer from completing his assignment...
For a moment Monastario felt the wave of relief. There was no damn investigation, the governor didn't know anything about Camero's mission and Monastario's position was safe. He almost smiled triumphantly, but then the fury returned with double strength. So, Camero not only dared to kill Monastario's man, he also intended to cheat him… He would give me orders and act as my superior! bridled the commandante.
"Who knew where you sent him?" he heard quiet voice of the young de la Vega.
"Everyone knew!" hissed Monastario. "I told it to your whole cabildo, then I gave him the orders in the middle of cuartel! Anyone could tell the emissary about it!"
"Now, that goes too far," started angrily Alejandro. "You have no grounds to accuse Señor Camero… Licenciado?..." he stopped, turning to Pina, who suddenly curled on the ground.
"For Heaven's Sake, Tomás, the last thing I need is you fainting here! I told you it won't be the place for you!" called Monastario torn between disgust and a shadow of compassion, dragging Pina aside and seating him in such way that he didn't see the corpse. Alejandro neared to help too, but when the licenciado signed that they can leave him, both men quickly returned to the nascent quarrel.
"I see what you both are suggesting and I do not like it," said Alejandro. "Yesterday you voiced your doubts, Diego, childish, but let it be. I know you had good intentions. Then you wanted to verify the emissary's credentials, Capitán. Miserable attempt to save your office, but I suppose you have the right to do it. But nothing, nothing entitles you to accuse the emissary of such crime!"
"Yes. I didn't think… I should have…" young de la Vega started but then silenced, biting his lips. Then he only shook his head stating with regret: "And now the boy is dead."
"There could be thousands of possible reasons and culprits…" started Alejandro, yet Monastario cut him off:
"But the most likely is Camero. He ordered this man killed, fearing the results of his assignment."
"You'd better find some proof for it!" shouted de la Vega, now really angry. "Or, better yet, find the man who did it! You owe it to this poor boy! Debating here won't change anything, so just start doing something!"
Monastario prepared to snap back, but to his surprise Alejandro's son stood up with unexpected energy.
"You are right, Father, as usual," he said and there was something that sounded like gratitude in his voice.
Pina was sitting in his office and crying. He couldn't help the tears running down his face.
It is not fair, the desperate thought returned over and over to him. Why did something like this happen to me?
He did nothing wrong, he had no evil intentions. He was acting in his best will. Why had he to be involved in the death of this man?
I was only talking, it was no more than the conversation. Why do I now have to carry this on my conscience? And if anyone learns that it was me who informed Camero, they will blame me for this death. That is not fair.
Oh, he had no doubts that it was Camero who killed the lancer. Apparently the magistrado had no credentials and there was no governor's mandate. Yet, it didn't interest Pina at all. He was just sitting and crying, pitying himself, embittered with the world that cheated him so…
The lancer. No, he didn't know him, he didn't remember his name and he barely recalled his face from the plaza or the cuartel. Somehow he couldn't find in himself to grieve over the man he knew nothing about, but that was not the point. The licenciado didn't cry over the lancer, only over himself. He was the victim here.
Why do I have to be involved in this death? I meant nothing wrong, he repeated.
And he was scared. Very scared. When he thought in what kind of affair he got trapped into, he couldn't help the new outburst of tears.
All I want is a peaceful and safe place to live. And all I get are worries and fears. I am just the most miserable man in the world, he concluded, drowning in despair.
Yet when the man cries for long hours, finally he finds no more tears in his eyes.
Finally Pina's eyes dried too.
He wasn't ready to face Camero, or to speak to Monastario, or to take any heavy decisions, but he knew he should do something to disperse the gloomy thoughts. The best idea would be to force himself to eat something… and then he could get drunk and escape his despair for a few hours. Perhaps tomorrow he would feel better.
I meant nothing wrong, it is not my fault. I cannot let it to destroy me, he stated, for a moment feeling shadow of pride for being so resilient.
Monastario stood in the church, where friends of the killed lancer kept watch and prayed over his body and wondered how long it was expected of him to remain here.
He didn't want to stay. He wanted to do something.
At first, he wanted to arrest Camero the first thing after arriving to the pueblo. Perhaps it was good that he rode so far to see the body, because on his way back he had the time to cool down and think it over.
To start with, there was no proof that the murder was ordered by the magistrado. Oh, Monastario had no doubts about it – but the others most likely wouldn't believe him, just as Alejandro didn't. All the people in the pueblo were sure that Camero is the governor's envoy, sent to examine Monastario's offences. If the commandante would try to arrest him now, they would consider it as a trick to defend his position.
So, he needed proof. He could send more men to Monterey, this time at least few of them… but suddenly it dawned to him that it might be unwise to decrease the manpower of his garrison too much. How many people were with the magistrado? No more than two or three lancers with Gonzales, but these servants… As far as Monastario could recall, they didn't look like the men whose main activity is ironing the magistrado's shirts… Certainly they knew how to put up a good fight too…
And this house… Now Monastario noticed that the house Camero chose to rent was perfect to defence: far from other buildings, with closed yard and high walls around it.
I suspect that you recommended it, Señorita, he thought bitterly. You certainly… calculated it all precisely.
So, the commandante couldn't afford sending too many lancers out of the pueblo – and he was sure that the road to Monterey will be closely watched now.
He shifted anxiously his weight from one foot to another, running impatient glance over the faces of people gathered in the church. Are they going to spend the whole night here? What for? Yes, yes, the death is a tragedy, of course… but the best way to cope with it is revenge, not mumbling some prayers!
And there was something else. If Camero's aim was simply to prevent the lancer from getting to Monterey… why didn't he hide his body? It laid in the ravine so close to the trail, sooner or later someone would certainly find him. Camero must have foreseen it.
He wanted it to be a message… a message for me, thought gloomily Monastario. To show me my place. To show me, that he is stronger.
So, what grounds did this man have to be so bold, so conceited, that he didn't fear to throw the open challenge to the commandante in his pueblo?
I must get to know, decided Monastario and, unable to lose any more seconds, pushed his way through the surprised and indignant crowd, exiting the church.