And here...we...go!
Chapter 6: Riddle Me This
There was a knock on the Commandante's office door, "Enter," he spoke from behind his desk.
The fat sergeant poked his head in, "Good morning, mi Capitan," he saluted.
Morales rubbed an oncoming headache, "It is a morning, Sergeant."
Garcia noted the ill-mood of his superior and treaded carefully, "Can I get the Commandante anything before he tells his sergeant of his daily duties?"
Morales shook his head, "No, thank you, Sergeant. Sit down, please."
Garcia pointed to himself as his eyes questioned. He refrained from speaking and just obeyed.
"Sergeant, I have brought you into my confidence. Don't make me regret my decision."
Garcia nodded emphatically, beaming on the inside of the commandante's faith in him. He was not about to break that trust.
Morales leaned back in his chair and propped his arms on the sides, "I met with Zorro last night."
Garcia about exploded, "Zorro! The real Zorro?!" he covered his mouth, realizing he had yelled.
"Si, the real Zorro, Sergeant."
Garcia's voice was a whisper, "He wasn't a ghost, was he?"
Morales shook his head, his soldiers were a lot of things and one of them was overly superstitious, "No, Sergeant Garcia. He was very much alive. I have decided to take him into my confidence as well. But I do not want it spread around that we are in cahoots with an outlaw."
Garcia nodded, "Can he help?"
"I hope so. I'm afraid if we cannot find this killer soon, there might be another body."
Garcia gaped then quickly closed his mouth.
zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz
Diego was sitting in the patio, his elbows propped on the table and his hands cupping his face. He was in deep thought. Bernardo was sitting across from him also contemplating.
Alejandro walked onto the patio with a small grin on his face, reading a paper in his hand, "Diego, my boy, I just received Gregorio's letter," he held it up in emphasis, "Talk about timing."
Diego smiled, "It is a tossup when it comes to the mail's delivery."
Bernardo traced across his chest and saluted, then held up both hands and looked at his fingers.
Diego shook his head, "I don't think bringing in more soldiers will solve the problem. It might drive the killer away or cause him to do something rash."
Bernardo harrumphed and went back to the drawing board.
"Are you talking about Zorro's last night's visit with the Commandante?" Alejandro asked.
"Si," Diego turned back to Bernardo, "With the killer's last note, he practically threatened that if I don't come out of hiding, he would do more harm," Diego leaned back in his chair, "Bernardo, why don't you go take a trip to Santa Barbara and visit where our two victims were staying?"
Bernardo's eyebrows raised with anticipation.
"I'm sure you could find out something," Diego grinned as the mute nodded with a smile and stood to saddle his horse. "Adios, my friend," he stood.
"That is a good idea, Diego. Let us hope Bernardo finds some useful information," he paused for a moment then patted his son on the back, "I think I will have a glass of wine in the library. Would you care to join me in a game of chess?"
"No, thank you, Father, I think I'll go to my room for a bit," Diego smiled and went upstairs. Shrugging off his jacket, he then untied his cravat, trying to cool off. It was quite warm today. Maybe the library would be cooler. A game of chess would not be so bad. If only he could not be sure of the outcome. He always beat his father. He then went downstairs but stopped at the bottom of the stairs when he heard a horse and buggy drive up. Anna Maria rushed into the patio with a bright and cheery expression.
"Anna Maria, what a pleasant surprise," he noticed she was in a light blouse, high-waist skirt, and riding boots.
"Good! You're here!" She almost ran to him and took his hand, "Come. Come, I have a surprise for you," she was almost like a child as she tugged him toward the door.
"What – wait – where are we going?"
"You'll see, Come on, hurry."
Diego relented and let her guide him into the buggy.
zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzZZZZZZZZZZZZzzzzzzzzzzzzz
Anna Maria directed the horse off the road to a small shaded area on the de la Vega property. A small brook was surrounded by trees and the breeze bounced off the water and was cool against their skin. A picnic had been set up and a vaquero was waiting against a tree.
"Gracias, Senor," she pulled out a few pesos from her purse and rewarded the man.
He bowed and rode off on his horse.
"Tada!" Anna Maria gestured to the blanket with the basket on the ground.
Diego laughed, "This is lovely, Anna Maria. What's the occasion," he helped her to the ground then followed.
Anna Maria giggled, "You are my friend and I wanted to do something special for you. Besides, it is a nice day and I wouldn't want to spend it with anyone else," she opened the basket and started pulling out chicken and cheese and bread.
They spent the better part of an hour laughing and chatting and eating. His mind granted him peace and he was lost in the company of Anna Maria.
She took a sip from the wine as the conversation lulled, "Wasn't it a wonderful part the other night?"
"Yes, Don Cornelio always knows how to celebrate for his daughter."
Anna Maria stared at him for a moment, "Diego, I want to apologize."
"For what?"
"For many years ago. Well, recently, I had an epiphany to which some of the women here have not come to yet, I want to apologize for comparing you to Zorro. It seems the caballeros in Los Angeles still have their work cut out for them, I'm afraid."
"Gracias," Diego did not know quite what to say. He knew she was being serious and he took it to heart, but he also saw the humor in it; she had been comparing him to himself.
Anna Maria grinned and touched his shoulder, "You are more than a brother to me, Diego."
"Do not say an uncle," he joked.
She laughed, "No!" she turned to the basket, "Would you like another chicken?"
Diego lied down resting his hands on his stomach, "Oh, no, I am completely stuffed," he closed his eyes as the breeze whipped through his hair and across his face. His eyes were only supposed to be temporarily closed, but the wind and her soothing voice, lulled him unknowingly into a peaceful asleep.
zzzzzzzzzzzzZZZZZZZZZZZZZZzzzzzzzzz
A long afternoon of drills and tactical practice fatigued Capitan Morales. He appreciated his soldier's eagerness, but he often wondered how some of these inept men became soldiers. After two years, they had shaped into a fine garrison, but they still had a lot more work to do to be where he wanted them.
He dismissed the lancers, telling those who needed to go on patrol to do so, ordering another group to clean out the stalls and attend to the prisoners before they could go off duty, then told another group to take their break now.
He went into his office to cool off and relieve the headache, but stopped when he saw an envelope sitting on his chair. His heart raced, he was rendered immobile, as he stared down at the lone parchment. An uneasiness in his stomach churned as he slowly picked up the envelope and broke the seal.
zzzzzzzzzzzzzzZZZZZZZZZZZzzzzzzzzzzzzz
Diego blinked his eyes open and became alert in the unfamiliar surroundings.
"There you are," Anna Maria's voice reminded him where he was and he instantly relaxed.
He suddenly realized what he had done and sat up, "Forgive me, Anna Maria. I did not realize I had fallen asleep."
She chuckled, "I did not realize I was boring."
"No—Anna Maria—"
She waved his apology away and teased him as she pushed him back down, "I understand, you are tired. You know, since I arrived, I have noticed these little creases at the edges of your eyes, and sensed some tension from you," she gently stroked her thumb next to his eye, "For the first time, they are not there."
Her soft touch was comforting, "I must admit, that is the first time I have slept well in a long time," he looked up at her as she brushed back his hair. His hazel eyes were mesmerizing.
He stared up into her soft expression and felt the urge to kiss her. She was so close, he could almost sense she wanted to as well. He lifted his hand and brushed her hair aside and was about to pull her down when the memory of kissing her two years ago appeared in his mind. Or rather, El Zorro.
Diego let his hand fall and sat up slowly, taking his glass in hand and sipping it to wave off the sensation. He instantly felt regret, but there was a slight – slight chance that she would recognize the kiss. His heart ached.
zzzzzzzzzzzZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZzzzzzzzzzzzzz
That evening Bernardo returned and found Diego wielding his sword in his bedroom. He stopped him in mid-lunge, "Oh, Bernardo! You're back! You made record time."
Bernardo nodded and wobbled his legs.
"You are saddle sore. Well you can soon rest, my friend. Now what did you learn in Santa Barbara?"
Bernardo quickly explained that both men were visited by someone but the guards did not have a description. Then both prisoners were walked out of the compound by someone dressed as a soldier with forged papers of their release.
"That is strange, Bernardo. So the killer picked these men and released them to serve his purpose."
Bernardo also gave his opinion that he sensed the forgettable visitor and the guard who guided them out were one in the same.
"You think they are the same person?" Diego trusted Bernardo's instinct.
Bernardo nodded and signed that he had a feeling. Bernardo was a master of trickery and disguise when Diego met him in Spain. If his mute friend believed something was off with the stranger, he would not doubt him.
Bernardo signed a 'Z'.
"Si, I should tell this to the Commandante," Diego led them to the side of the fireplace.
zzzzzzzzzzzzzzZZZZZZZZZZZZZzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz
Capitan Morales tapped the desk repeatedly with his fingers. He wished he knew of a way to reach Zorro. He stared at the note in his hands then continued to tap the desk.
"I personally prefer sitting in quiet contemplation," the commandante abruptly turned behind him, "It's less noisy," the masked figure materialized out of the darkness with a slight grin.
"How did you get in here?"
Zorro only shrugged, "I come bringing news," obviously ignoring the question.
Capitan Morales nodded as he stood and leaned against his desk, "I have news of my own," he held up the envelope. "You first."
Zorro shifted his weight to his other leg, "You were right, the men were criminals serving time up in Santa Barbara. They were both visited by someone and then a few days later were guided out of the jail by a soldier with forged release papers."
"Is there a description on the visitor?"
Zorro shook his head, "No. But I will bet that the visitor and the guard who released them are one in the same. He disguised himself the first time and stole a uniform when he led them out."
"How did you obtain this information?"
Zorro grinned, "Allow me some secrets, Commandante," he furthered, "So we are looking for a man who is good with disguises and is probably walking among us."
"Could he actually be a soldier?"
"Do you have any recently assigned men?"
Morales shook his head, "Sanchez and Ramirez but they have been here for seven months and I trust them. And all the men are accounted for," he sighed in distress, "It could be anyone."
"We could narrow the list down by all who have passed through in the last few months. You keep a record of this, do you not?"
Morales had a glimmer of hope, "Si. We could narrow it down further by those who have come and stayed. But what if he has slipped in without us knowing? He is apparently good with disguises and hiding himself."
"Just work on the records."
Morales raised the envelope, "Now my turn. This came addressed to me, but I think it is meant for you."
The masked man opened the paper, "There are two riddles here."
"I know," he pointed to the paper, "He's taken someone. I can feel it."
"So solve the riddle and find the victim," Zorro nodded and looked down at the parchment.
"He wanted to play a game. This is his game."
Zorro read the first riddle aloud, "What kind of coat can only be put on when wet?"
Morales shook his head as he crossed his arms over his chest, "You take off a coat when it gets wet. What kind is put on, what kind do you want to put on?"
"Maybe it is not literal but figurative," Zorro's mind was racing. "Paint. A coat of paint. That has to be it."
"Of course," the capitan tsked, feeling stupid.
Zorro read the second riddle, "Though you escape me, to me you always go, and though you leave me and head to me, from me you have never left. What am I?" Zorro shook his head.
"I cannot figure out what it means. I always hated riddles."
"I don't know—wait—though you escape me, to me you always go—that could mean the past—and though you leave me and head to me—that could mean the future—from me you have never left—the present. Past, present and future."
"What does it mean?"
"They are all a part of time. The answer must be time. I'm sure of it."
"Time? What does that have to do with anything? What does paint have to do with time? How long does it take for paint to dry? Is there another riddle within the two?"
Zorro grinned, "There may be hope for you in riddles yet, Capitan," he started to pace, "Paint and time."
"He wanted you to come out and play. With paint? I do not understand."
Zorro's mind reasoned. The commandante was right, why would this man lure him out of hiding only to give him random riddles. Maybe they weren't random. Maybe they had a specific purpose, a specific direction. "Could it be a location?"
Morales nodded in thought, "That could be. He did hint that he might have kidnapped someone. But what could paint point too? And time? Is time a location as well?"
Zorro tsked and went back into the resources of his mind, "Paint," he breathed. "Time. Telling time. Clock?
"A painted clock?"
Zorro bit his lip and shook his head, "Telling time then paint," he paused, "A bell tells time. Bells are in churches," he stopped, "the Mission of San Gabreal. It had a notice saying that its walls were to be repainted. The Indians started a few days ago."
"You go to church?" Morales quirked an eyebrow.
Zorro huffed, "No time to fish for my identity, Commandante. The answer to the riddles must be the Mission of San Gabreal. Mount up, Capitan. I will meet you there."
Morales raced outside and gave the command.
Zorro spurred his stallion to the Mission and saw in the pale moonlight that it was in the middle of its remodel. He quickly dismounted and raced passed a few of the Indians working late on the grounds. They stopped suddenly and gasped upon seeing their masked avenger alive and well.
"Zorro!" his name was hushed among them.
He ran into the chapel. Padre Felipe was standing at the podium with Padre Ernesto and they were practicing for the upcoming sermon. Both men stopped when they saw the man dressed in black.
Zorro bowed his head and quickly made the sign of the cross.
"Zorro!?" Padre Felipe exclaimed, "Is it really you?"
"Si, Padre."
"Can I help you, my child," he was surprised to find the man alive, "Are you all right? Are the soldiers after you?" Padre Felipe stepped out from the podium.
Zorro shook his head, searching for a clue, "No, Padre," suddenly the answer came to him, "Time. The bell," he looked up and burst open the stairwell that led to the bell tower. He drew his sword as he ascended.
The two priests exchanged concerned and puzzled looks.
Zorro stopped at the top, feeling the cold wind brisk passed his face. He stepped carefully around the large bell and saw a young man dressed as Zorro bound and gagged. The man was positioned precariously on the edge of the tower with a specifically placed thick blade slicing away at the lifeline attached to the man. Zorro studied the mechanism. Every time the rope was pulled to ring the bell, the lifeline would be lifted and be sliced by the blade. The woven bands were on their last strands. The man's weight was testing the limits of the bands and he was moments from falling to his death.
Zorro carefully wedged his way toward the hostage. The man was frozen in fright. "Senor. It is Zorro. Stay still. I am here to help you," he announced himself so not to startle the man.
The man emitted a moan in relief when he saw the masked man. He knew he was saved.
Zorro carefully pulled the man back and untied the gag, "Are you all right, Senor?"
"Gracias, Senor Zorro," the man was trembling.
Zorro untied the mask and saw that it was Ramon Ruiz, Don Manuel Ruiz's son. Ramon had been a good friend of Diego's for several years. Whoever did this was now targeting people in Los Angeles. There was some bruising and cuts around the caballero's eye and a cut lip. His kidnapper beat him. He turned when he saw the lancers rushing up to the church grounds and come to a halt. Moments he had until they came up here. "Did you see who did this to you?"
The man shook his head, "He jumped me late yesterday afternoon. I was on my way home from San Pedro. Wore a sack over his head. He put something in my pocket."
Zorro retrieved a note in the man's trousers then proceeded to untie his friend. "Can you make it down yourself?"
The man nodded as he was helped to his feet. "He's really loco, Senor. He said this was your fault and was hell-bent on making me believe it. He said my death would have been on your head. I didn't believe him, Senor. I just prayed that you would come."
Zorro nodded in appreciation, "Go," he guided the man to the stairwell.
"What about you?"
"I have another way down," the man disappeared down the stairs, grasping the walls all the way down. Zorro stuffed the note in his pocket. He needed to make a hasty exit. He gathered the rope that was there and secured it before letting it down the South side that dropped down to a chapel roof. He descended and landed softly on the rooftop. He then scaled down the wall and landed lightly to his feet in the cemetery. He backed up into a bush and took out the note:
Bravo, the Fox, his brother saved,
Must now continue our game depraved.
Perhaps another may not die
If, as a feather in the wind, he flies.
Zorro slapped the paper and cursed under his breath. He should have known this would not be over.
Zorro watched as Morales and his lancers collected Ramon and helped him onto a horse. They would most likely take him back to the pueblo for care and questioning. He saw Morales glancing around from time to time, obviously looking for the elusive fox.
One thing was for certain, this was not over.
Author's Notes: The paint riddle was found publicly online and the time riddle was composed by my lovely husband. The rhymed noted was polished by my good friend Ben. Thanks for your support! Hope you're enjoying the mystery! :)