Chapter 7

Victoria filled a glass with orange juice for Diego at the bar and smiled sweetly up at him. "You're here late tonight, Diego?"

"Yes, I wanted to have a word with Lord Hodge. Is he here?"

"Yes. In his room. I expect he'll be down shortly. We have laid in a nice supply of Scotch Whiskey for the man. He has quite a fancy for it and has downed a bottle every night before he goes up to his bed. He's quite amazing. He never even acts as if it affects him at all.

"And that impresses you?" Diego laughed.

"Well, if a man is going to drink, it is better that he knows how much he can handle before he starts. Lord Hodge has been a perfect gentleman." She paused before she whispered with a smile, "Even if he is a little too pompous!"

Diego laughed again. Then he checked his timepiece. It was getting late. "Victoria, do you have an extra room, tonight? I may want to stay in town if my conversation with Lord Hodge drags on too long."

"Of course, Diego. The room next to mine is free tonight."

"And possibly a little something from the kitchen later, as well? I think I've managed to forget to eat this afternoon."

"And why is that? You've been sitting here for the past hour. You could have asked for something."

"Why, I have been mesmerized by your beauty. All thoughts of the needs of my flesh were lost as I sat here enchanted by your charms." He smiled and winked at her.

She paused in surprise and then slapped at him with her dishtowel. "I think you've been reading too many of those sonnets, Señor de la Vega. I'll make sure you have everything you need." She excused herself to tend to her other customers. But when she turned around, there was a big smile on her face.

It was another hour before Lord Hodge came down the stairs. Diego wasted no time in getting his attention and the two men were soon deep in conversation at a table in a back corner. Diego nursed his orange juice while the British peer downed a whole bottle of whiskey. It was amazing, just as Victoria had said. The man was still coherent and animated as he discussed the fine art of handwriting analysis with Diego.

Victoria set the second bottle of whiskey down on the table as she gave Diego an inquiring glance. But for once, he ignored her. "More juice, Diego?"

"No, thank you." He was dismissing her and she knew it. She stalked off to wait on her other customers as he thought to himself. "I'll pay for that later." But aloud, he only said, "So, Lord Hodge, you are saying that even if one used his left hand to write, you would be able to still identify his writing?"

"Oh, yes, Señor de la Vega! You see, handwriting comes from the brain, not the hand." This was the subject he loved most in the world and he could talk for hours on it. In truth, he was one of the foremost researchers in the new methods of study and the task before him was quite a challenge. "This Zorro will not be able to elude me that way!" He filled his glass with whiskey and then saw Diego's glass was empty and started to fill it as well.

"Uh, no, sir," Diego objected. "I don't usually—"

"Young man, if you are going to sit here picking my brain like this - and that is what you are doing and I want you to know I am well aware of it - then you are going to drink with me! I don't like drinking alone when I am not alone. Now drink! It's actually very good scotch. Surprising to find it in this backward little town of yours, but it is very good scotch indeed. Now, drink, Lad!" He waited expectantly for Diego to lift the glass, and Diego smiled nervously but finally complied. The fiery liquid burned going down his throat, for he was not used to liquor. He coughed and the older man laughed. "Every man should develop at least one vice, and the taste for scotch is an admirable one! Now, where was I? Oh...yes… the Alcalde was very correct in asking for my help, though how he knew I was in Monterey is a mystery to me. And he was quite lucky as well. I had planned to leave the very day I received his message. But I cancelled all my plans once I found out I could help catch this criminal. That's my mission in life now—catching criminals. Well, at least, educated criminals. I leave the illiterate riff-raff to the mundane police constables."

Diego was growing exasperated at the length of time it was taking to extract his information from the man. How he did go on! It never took anything near this long with Mendoza. "But, Lord Hodge, you say it comes from the brain. How do you know that?"

"Because of the way you learn to write, of course. You were taught the way the letters look and then you tried to copy them. Your brain and your eyes saw the picture. You hand merely tried to copy it. If you were to, say, use your nose to write your name in the sand—" Diego chuckled at the thought. "You laugh, but if you did, your 'nose-writing' would have all the same elements as your handwriting."

"So what you are saying is –" Diego stopped as Lord Hodge pointedly looked at the nearly full glass before Diego. Eager for the man to continue, Diego took a small sip in compliance. When he saw the frown that elicited, he drained the glass. "So what you are saying is that there is no way for Zorro to fool you, provided you get a sample of his handwriting as his other self?" He tried to keep his composure as he finished his question, but the whiskey wouldn't let him. He began sputtering and coughing. Besides drawing a few curious glances from others about the room, the only response he got from Lord Hodge was a freshly refilled glass. Looking at the glass, which seemed to be growing in size by the minute, Diego sighed and shook his head. This was going to be a very long night.

"Oh, there are ways. But one would have to have a lot of practice. Zorro will have to produce a handwriting sample, as his 'other self' as you put it, within the next few days or the Alcalde will know who he is by default. And I doubt very seriously that in that length of time, he could practice a different style of writing that would fool my practiced eye. I can only remain in Los Angeles for three more days and then I must leave for San Pedro in order to catch my ship home. I have wasted far too much time here already. And now, I have a question for you. Your Alcalde describes this Zorro fellow as a rather brute of a man. I'd like another opinion of him if I am to be the cause of his hanging. What do you think of him?" He studied the young cabellero over the rim of his own glass and, with a motion of his finger and a glint in his eye, encouraged Diego to upend his glass once more.

Diego took a long, but more cautious sip this time. "Zorro is a hero to the people. He fights for justice, although he is not always following the straight and narrow of the law when he does. You can ask any person in the pueblo and they will tell you that. Do not blindly believe what the Alcalde tells you of the man."

"Are the rumors about Zorro and Señorita Escalante true?"

"What rumors?" Diego didn't like the turn the conversation was taking. Lord Hodge motioned for him to drink up once more and Diego wondered fleetingly just who was pumping whom for information. Diego took another long drink from his glass.

"She and Zorro are promised to each other. That's what I've heard just today. I have really grown to admire the señorita and this surprised me greatly. I also heard another curious rumor concerning you."

"Concerning me?" Diego echoed. "And what would that be?" He continued to sip as he felt the eyes of the older man eye him expectantly.

"That you have begun to court the young lady yourself lately. Is it true?"

Diego shifted on the hard wooden bench nervously. "Well, I would not say that …exactly. Victoria and I have been friends a very long time. She is a lovely woman, and there are very few women of marriageable age in the area." He lifted the glass yet again and drank, more to avoid stopping the flow of words from his own mouth rather than for the drink itself.

"If Zorro were caught and hanged, that would make the way clear for other suitors, would it not? A suitor such as yourself?"

"But one has nothing to do with the other." Diego smiled and tried to collect his thoughts. "Zorro is not a criminal—in the real sense of the word. He does not deserve to hang."

"Then you believe this 'trap' to be unfair?"

"Yes." Diego would have liked to say more. Normally, he could have done so eloquently. But he was beginning to feel the dulling effects of the whiskey and he needed to call an end to this. He wasn't sure he could successful cajole any more useful information out of Lord Hodge and it was obvious that the older man could definitely withstand more alcohol than he. Diego might even begin to become a wealth of information himself if he didn't leave soon.

"Well, my boy, drink up. Perhaps there is a way out of this for Señor Zorro, but I would have to be absolutely convinced—"

His words were lost as shots rang out in the streets outside. Almost every man in the room rose from his seat at the same time, but no one noticed the unsteadiness with which Don Diego de la Vega did so. And no one noticed as the half-empty bottle of scotch tumbled from the table and spilled all over his boots.

Feeling as though he were moving in quicksand, Diego found himself behind the whole group of men as they ran through the doorway and crowded into the street to see what was causing the turmoil in the street.

Then he felt someone pulling at his sleeve. Felipe was motioning him to follow him around the corner. Felipe had been prepared. Zorro's things awaited him there with Tornado. It took several minutes before he had completed the change. Felipe stood guard at the corner and when he looked back to see Zorro mounted and ready, he stepped forward and melted into the crowd.

Zorro rode straight into the battle between lancers and vaqueros and assessed the situation in minutes. After disarming several of the soldiers with a few licks of his whip, he managed to unhorse the four troublemakers easily. The vaqueros had ridden into town drunk and fired off some wild shots. No one had been hurt, and the lancers quickly rounded up the young vaqueros and headed them off to the quartel jail. Zorro was about to turn Tornado towards the gates of the pueblo when he and the horse both tensed to the cry. "Shoot him! Kill Zorro!"

Several more soldiers were streaming out of the quartel and the ones near him were struggling to reload. De Soto himself had a primed pistol ready and took his best aim. The shot went just past Tornado's nose and the horse reared high. The crowd gasped as Zorro was thrown from Tornado's back and the horse ran off toward the gates. But in seconds, he had scrambled to his feet and drawn his saber as the Alcalde slowly moved toward him, sword in hand.

"Not up to your usual perfection tonight, I see!" De Soto gave a throaty laugh. "En guard, you worthless outlaw!"

De Soto lunged and Zorro parried the thrust easily. Then the duel began in earnest. In minutes, De Soto confirmed his suspicions that something was definitely wrong with his talented adversary on this night. Zorro was truly not displaying his usual level of performance, and the Alcalde took advantage of it in every way. Every small success with his blade spurred him on to be even more adventurous.

Zorro was indeed having some trouble. The mask was bothering him more than it normally did, and he was finding it difficult to focus on the blade coming at him. Even his reflexes seemed mired in molasses as he forced his concentration to stay on the moment at hand. He parried every thrust. Yet even as he blocked move after move, he knew he needed to end this quickly. His vision was blurring, and he could swear that, at times, his opponent held two blades, not one. There was even a curious whirring sound in his ears that drowned out the clanging of steel and the clamor of the watching crowd.

Suddenly, he saw an opening and took it. With the finesse of practiced expertise, he side-stepped the Alcalde's coupe and as it went wild to his right, he reached in with his own blade and disarmed the man cleanly.

Then he broke with his usual custom. Rather than upbraiding the Alcalde in the street and imparting a stern warning to him, Zorro saluted him with his saber. And, without a word, he ran between two buildings and disappeared into the dark shadows of the night.

De Soto shouted orders to his men in quick succession. "After him! Lancers! To arms!"