CHAPTER THREE – Palomarez Returns
On a sleepy afternoon in Victoria's Tavern nearly a year after Palomarez had been thrown out of the pueblo, Sergeant Mendoza was 'teaching' Diego how to play poker, or so Mendoza thought. It had been quiet in the pueblo because Alcalde Luis Ramone had taken nearly all the lancers of the garrison with him on maneuvers to Monterrey. Sergeant Mendoza stayed behind as Acting Alcalde, with just a few others for pueblo maintenance.
"Well, you have finally met your match, Don Diego," Mendoza stated, with some pride, as he looked at his hand of cards.
"Yes, I can see you know this game very well, Sergeant," Diego said with only a small degree of sincerity. He was looking at his own hand of cards.
The soldier smirked immodestly. "Well, you do pick up a few tricks in the barracks." He set his cards down; a full house – a good hand.
Diego laid his cards – four of a kind – down on the table. "Then I suppose this is just beginner's luck?" he asked as he rose from the table.
Mendoza was astonished. "Buh, Buh, But I had a perfect hand," he spluttered.
Diego patted Mendoza's arm in consolation. "Why don't you let me buy you a nice lunch?"
Mendoza rose from the table and came and leaned on the counter. "Senorita Escalante, what are they serving for lunch today?" Mendoza was looking forward to a tasty lunch at Diego's expense.
Victoria replied with irritation. "The kitchen is closed. I had to dismiss the cook in order to pay for the alcalde's new bed tax. You have your commandant to thank for your empty belly." She was looking at her ledger and she wasn't happy with what she saw.
Mendoza tried to appease her. "Well…the Alcalde can be a bit aggressive. Look on the bright side…"
Victoria interrupted, "Mendoza, there is no bright side to oppression." She was looking in her ledger book to see if there was any way she could start serving meals again. But as many times as she looked at the numbers before her, she couldn't see her way clear to purchase food. She could still serve drinks however.
Diego watched this exchange, but said nothing. Mainly, he watched Victoria, trying not to be too obvious in his admiration of her spirit. Ah, she is beautiful…he thought. He had already fallen in love with her, but was trying very hard not to show it.
Mendoza said, "Yes, but it is nice and quiet around here with most of the garrison away on maneuvers."
"Maneuvers! That is nothing more than an excuse for the Alcalde to take advantage of the summer air in Monterrey." Victoria said sarcastically.
Diego gave her a sympathetic smile. She's beautiful when she's angry, he thought.
Mendoza remembered something. "Well, the Alcalde is better than…Colonel Palomarez. Is he not?"
Diego looked at Mendoza with disregard. "That's not saying so much, Sergeant," he said.
"Sergeant Mendoza," Victoria said louder than she needed to, but her frustration was evident. "Please do not mention that name again in my tavern. I would rather die than submit to his rule." With that, she closed her ledger book with a slam.
"Is that so, Señorita?" came a low, nasty voice everyone hoped they would never hear again. All eyes were drawn to the tavern's doorway to where Colonel Mefisto Palomarez stood. A few of his royal guardsmen flanked him.
"Death, you see," he stated with great deliberation, "is easily arranged."
Palomarez strolled up to the counter. He was conscious that all eyes were on him. He liked it that way. "I've just returned from Madrid. The king was quite upset to hear of the continued popular support of the renegade Zorro."
"Maybe he'd like to hear how upset we are with the way we are treated!" Victoria retorted.
"That is precisely the traitorous attitude that has forced the king to reconsider all colonial property rights." Palomarez said with great satisfaction.
Diego was shocked, but recovered quickly. That niggling feeling of danger he'd had just after he'd driven Palomarez out of the pueblo around nine to ten months ago, came back with a vengeance. The hair stood up on the back of his neck. He swallowed, and tried not to look as alarmed as he felt. He didn't want to be right about this, but he had a premonition about the Colonel's return, and he now – here he was. The memory came back to him. He'll be more dangerous than ever. I'll have to stay on my toes.
With his 'non-threatening' almost placating voice he said, "Forgive me, Colonel, but the king has already issued a number of land grants over the years." He had developed this 'voice' to calm down his father when he got upset, but used it whenever and wherever he thought necessary.
Palomarez drew attention to a document he was holding. "They are all rescinded. Null and void, as if they had never existed. This – is a new land grant – overriding all others." He handed the document to Diego.
Diego read through the document, speaking as he read, until he got to the last word. "So – all property in the territory belongs to – you!" Diego said, as he looked up to Palomarez with surprise.
Palomarez smiled with confidence.
Victoria said, "But that can't be legal!"
Diego held the grant somewhat over his left shoulder for Mendoza and Victoria to see. "It bears the king's signature."
Palomarez took the land grant out of Diego's hand and strutted over to stand face-to-face with Mendoza. "Where is the Alcalde?"
Mendoza straightened his coat, "In Monterrey on maneuvers. Very official military matters."
Palomarez looked Mendoza up and down. "Then bring me the acting commandant."
Mendoza fluffed his coat. "That is me."
"The incompetence is incredible." Palomarez gave a slight shake of his head. "Very well Sergeant, inform the local populace that they have 48 hours to either evacuate the territory or become subject to my rule."
"Forty-eight hours?" Mendoza was incredulous. "But that's not even time to…"
"Perhaps you would rather face the gallows once again?" His voice rose with a menacing overtone.
"No sir. I mean yes, sir, right away sir." Mendoza ran off to inform as many people as he could.
Diego again asked, with as non-combative voice as possible, "I suppose you and your men will be stationed in the cuartel?"
"My men, yes." Looking quite full of himself, he said, "For myself, I have something that's a little bit, shall we say, nicer – in mind."
Z
The 'nicer' accommodations the Colonel had in mind turned out to be the de la Vega hacienda. As his guardsmen carried his trunks into the foyer, Alejandro, Diego, and Felipe stood by in utter amazement. Alejandro was incensed, and he wouldn't stand for it. He'd been away when the Colonel was here before, but he'd heard all about the ruthlessness of the soldier upon his return. He'd listened with great interest as townspeople told him how Zorro humiliated and drove him out of the pueblo.
"I am Don Alejandro Sebastian de la Vega," he said firmly, with attitude. He was incensed! "I was born here! My son was born here. My father and his father set the first stones to this hacienda. You can't throw me out of my own house!"
Diego and Felipe watched the Colonel's men bring in his trunks – it truly looked like he was planning to stay awhile. Diego gave a sly elbow to Felipe and nodded towards the fireplace, while he sidled up to Alejandro, folding his arms to block anyone from seeing where Felipe was going.
Alejandro was indignant. "How do we even know this signature on this new land grant of yours is authentic?"
Diego replied. "It certainly appears to be."
Palomarez interjected. "Trust me Senor de la Vega, it is quite genuine."
Alejandro wasn't ready to give up. "Can you prove it?"
Palomarez was beginning to lose patience. "Perhaps you don't understand. I now own the land beneath your feet. I don't have to prove anything to you."
Alejandro was quickly losing his temper. "You'll have a revolution on your hands. Hundreds of people will take up arms against you!"
Palomarez replied with a raised voice. "Then we will have hundreds of executions!"
That did it. Alejandro held nothing back. "If you do, the only thing you'll have left is land – worthless land. Without people you'll have nothing!" Alejandro moved towards the door. "Come, Diego!" Diego dutifully followed Alejandro.
Palomarez saw the wisdom of what the old don said. After all, he didn't want to rule land, he wanted to rule people. "Don Alejandro – wait! Suppose – suppose you are right. What would I have to do to win the trust of the people?"
Alejandro turned around and walked right up to the Colonel, and looked him in the eye. Diego's eyes followed his father's footsteps, but he stayed where he was. Alejandro said, "I'll tell you what you have to do. Let them judge the authenticity of this document! If it proves to be authentic, then you stand on firm legal ground."
Palomarez said, "You're suggesting a public forum."
"With an impartial judge to study the document." Alejandro thought he saw a glimmer of hope that might come out of all this.
Diego noted, "But that would require someone with no property interest at all. Nothing at stake. And the territorial magistrate is in San Francisco now."
"I think I know just the man." Alejandro said with confidence.
Z
On their way to the tavern, Diego looked at his father quizzically. He could tell Alejandro had something up his sleeve, because of the 'cat that ate the canary' expression on his father's face.
"So Father, who do you have in mind? Who is 'just' the man?" Diego asked.
Alejandro just looked at Diego and smiled. "There's really only one person in the pueblo it could be. And he will be the perfect person – just you wait and see."
"I can hardly wait," replied Diego.
They rode the rest of the way in silence, with each man thinking his own thoughts. When they arrived, they found the tavern buzzing with talk of Colonel Palomarez. Alejandro quickly sought out Victoria.
"Senorita Victoria, we've been thrown out of our hacienda and we'll need rooms," Don Alejandro said.
"You've been thrown out?" Victoria was shocked!
"Yes, it appears the 'nicer' accommodations the Colonel had in mind – was our hacienda. He's moved in lock, stock and barrel," said Diego with some sarcasm.
"I'm so sorry," said Victoria. "Of course you may have rooms. I have two left. I hope you'll be comfortable here. It's not as elegant as your hacienda, but I try to maintain a certain level of comfort here, even though it is simple."
"Thank you Victoria," said Don Alejandro. "I'm sure we'll be very comfortable, right Diego?"
"Oh yes, of course," replied Diego, a bit distracted. His eyes darted around the tavern, looking to see if Felipe had arrived yet. He didn't see him.
"By the way, Victoria," said Alejandro. "Have you seen Sergeant Mendoza?"
Z
"ME? Why ME?" Sergeant Mendoza squeaked. Whenever Mendoza was totally shocked and surprised by something, or he was asked to do something he didn't think he could do – his voice took on a squeaking quality, which was in evidence now.
"Because you neither own property nor pay any rent." Alejandro answered.
"But Senores, I am not an expert on such things as land grants!" Mendoza was incredulous. He couldn't believe Don Alejandro was asking him to judge the land grant.
"But you do know the king's signature, don't you?" Alejandro asked.
Looking upward, as if he was looking at it, "Oh si, it's on the garrison commission that hangs above the alcalde's desk. And the king's signature is right on the bottom."
"Good, then that's settled." Alejandro folded his hands in satisfaction.
"I'll see you both in the morning." Diego started towards the stairs. He knew he needed to get back to the hacienda and spy on Colonel Palomarez. He had to find out what Palomarez was really up to. But he had to 'appear' as weak Diego, and go to bed early. Since he didn't see Felipe elsewhere, Diego figured he would be waiting in the room. He hoped so.
"It's a bit early isn't it Diego?" Alejandro noticed it wasn't even dark out yet. What am I going to do with you, Diego? thought Alejandro. I just don't understand you these days.
As frail and fatigued as he could possibly say it, Diego walked up the steps to his room. "Yes, but it's been a rather trying day and I do want to be up in time for the Sergeant's ruling," Alejandro watched him thinking, 'Really Diego! You can't be serious!' but Diego climbed the stairs to his room. He peeked back as soon as he got to the door a moment, then quickly shut the door.
Felipe was waiting in the room with Zorro's clothes. "Did anyone see you come in?" Diego asked. Felipe signed 'strangers.'
"There's a stranger at the hacienda!" Diego snickered and playfully knocked Zorro's hat off Felipe's head, while pulling off his caballero jacket. "We'd better hurry." Felipe began handing Diego his black shirt.
Once changed, Zorro snuck out the window and Felipe led him to a stable where he'd hidden Toronado. They rode double until they got just outside the cave entrance. Zorro rode in first on Toronado. Felipe followed behind on foot, and closed the cave entrance door behind him. By the time they got there, it was dark.
Z
In the hacienda Library, Palomarez poured two drinks of white wine, some of the de la Vega's best, to Senor Bickle, an Englishman who was part of this scheme to take all the land of the pueblo and surrounding territory.
He handed a glass to Bickle, who rose from his chair and made a toast. "To Britain."
Palomarez added, "May the sun never set on her glory." Their raised their glasses. This was going to be a very lucrative deal, Palomarez thought to himself. This will be my way of getting revenge on Los Angeles. Since he'd been kicked out of the pueblo by Zorro, Palomarez set about thinking of a way to get revenge both on Los Angeles, and on Zorro. He had gone to a lot of trouble, but if the plan worked, it would be worth it! He would be a rich man, and Zorro would be dead!
"And when we control these western Pacific ports, she never will." Bickle took a sip of the finest white wine the de la Vegas could offer, even though they weren't there to offer it.
"It's only a question of money, Senor." Palomarez set his glass down on the serving table, then picked up a box that looked like a very small chest, with a rounded, hinged lid.
Knowing there could be trouble, Bickle said, "My government wants no difficulty with the local population." He'd heard stories about Los Angeles, and wondered why Palomarez had chosen this pueblo to take over. As soon as he heard the colonel's story of his first visit, he understood why, but he hoped it would not cloud the traitorous Spaniard's judgment. Because what Colonel Palomarez was doing was treason – in the eyes of the Spanish crown.
Palomarez showed Bickle the box and pulled out the deed. "I have a new land grant signed by the king, which I am prepared to sell to you – with the full support of my people." His people…other dissatisfied Spanish colonial officers who had deserted the army and were now mercenaries – open to the highest bidder and out to line their own pockets.
Zorro watched through the peephole. He shook his head in disbelief. So, he's become a traitor to the Spanish crown, now, has he? Zorro thought. Obviously this is a case of forgery. I'll need to examine that land grant close up so I can rip him apart at the hearing tomorrow.
"Senor Bickle," asked the Colonel, "Shall we discuss terms?" He led Bickle away from the fireplace. Bickle followed, wondering how much he would have to pay for this venture.
Zorro looked away from the peephole a moment, and turned to Felipe. "He's trying to sell our pueblo to the British."
Zorro continued looking through the peephole, but as the two conspirators moved out of the library, he could no longer hear what was being said. They were too far away. He continued to watch as the two men walked across the entryway over to the drawing room. As he watched, he saw Palomarez do something with his sword, but couldn't tell what it was, because the soldier's back was to him. He did know that the land grant was in that little round-topped box on the desk.
As Palomarez and Bickle moved into the drawing room, opposite the library, Bickle's concern about trouble surfaced. "What about this Zorro, the fox?"
Palomarez replied standing on one side of the writing desk, "Zorro – he is nothing. If he shows his face to me this time, he's a dead man," emphasizing the last two words.
Bickle observed, as he moved to the opposite end of the desk, "You sound rather confident."
Palomarez picked up a small bottle from the desk and uncorked it. "A deadly poison, used by an obscure tribe of South American headhunters – a single scratch…" he drew out the word 'scratch' for emphasis. He continued, "…will mean slow, agonizing death." As he talked, he unsheathed his sword and dipped the point into the bottle. He held up the point of the sword to show the dangerous potential. Both of them looked at it. Bickle secretly thought I'm glad this isn't meant for me. This man is highly dangerous. But, this should ensure we don't have any trouble.
The dinner bell rang. Palomarez put the unsheathed sword back down on the desk, and invited Bickle to dinner. "Ah. Dinner is served Senor Bickle. Shall we dine on the terrace?"
Still looking through the peephole, Zorro said, "I've got to get a better look at that land grant."
He waited until the coast was clear, then went through the fireplace, walked to the box and removed the land grant. Looking around, he hurried back to the cave. On the same desk was the poison-laced sword, but Zorro took no notice of it.
Once back in the cave, Zorro put the land grant under a small magnifying glass. He saw the king's seal and signature. He was impressed. "The forgery is brilliant. The king himself would be deceived." He had been studying the land grant for quite some time, and he now knew how to present the case as Diego in the morning.
Felipe pointed to the land grant and nodded his head.
"No, it can't be authentic; the parchment is much too porous. It's made from a tropical papyrus which can only be found in South America." He twiddled the magnifying glass in his hand as he spoke.
Felipe pointed out to the room.
"Yes, you're right. I must return this so that Colonel Palomarez can have his day in court." Zorro looked through the peephole. The coast was clear. The peephole couldn't have shown him that the Colonel caught a glimpse of his cape as he swished by, just as he returned from the terrace to ply Bickle with a bit more of the de la Vega white wine.
Not sensing danger and in familiar surroundings, Zorro boldly went to the desk and returned the document. The box was made such that both hands were needed to open and close it. As he replaced the document, he felt a severe sting, and whirled to face Palomarez.
Palomarez saw what he thought was a shadow, and thought he better investigate. Seeing the masked man, under his breath, he said to himself, knowing he had him 'dead' to rights. "Zorro." He stealthily picked up the sword and scratched a surprised Zorro on the left shoulder. Zorro rubbed a bit of blood between fingers on his right hand.
Zorro knew he was in trouble, but he would not show fear. I can't believe I was so easily 'caught' unaware like this. I need to think, especially after my premonition!
Palomarez laughed and held up the bottle of poison. Zorro pulled his sword. "You're being poisoned. You will be dead within 24 hours." He gave the mercenary a wary look.
Palomarez's words sank in. This is no ordinary sword cut, Zorro thought. It stings much worse than a bee sting, and I can feel the flesh swelling up around the cut.
With a flick of his sword, Zorro was able to get the bottle of poison out of Palomarez's hand and into his own. He could feel a tingling going on his head. I need to think. I need to get out of here, but I can't go through the Library. Ah – sorry Father…we'll need to replace this. He jumped out through the window, breaking the glass and the some of the frame.
Bickle heard Palomarez laughing, and hurried in to see what was going on. He'd never seen the Fox, but he'd heard the stories.
Palomarez gloated. "YOU'RE A DEAD MAN!"