Chapter 23 – Framed
Diego relaxed on his bed, sinking his sweaty head on the soft pillows with a deep sigh, spent after the effort to walk all the way there. He felt truly miserable due to the pain, the weakness, the stomach cramps and the nausea, but he also felt extremely grateful he had a narrow escape thanks to that, because it had been the closest time ever to get identified as the masked bandit. So far, so good: he had made it home and avoided the alcalde. But now he had to recover without his family finding out his secret, and that could be even more complicated.
"Diego, you have to drink that vile stuff you got me to stop the sickness. You were right: it worked really well," Esteban said, entering the room after the alcalde left.
"Yes, I told… Felipe… to get me the leftovers," Diego said, still recovering his breath. He really hoped the mix would work so well for him as for his cousin, because the pain in his wounded side every time he retched was unbearable. As it had happened to Esteban, now that his stomach was empty, he kept retching unproductively with the strong stomach cramps.
When Felipe came back with the drink, Diego signed some instructions.
"Don't let them see the wound. We'll change the dressings later on tonight. I may get a fever, so don't panic, alright?"
Felipe nodded, serious, and handed over the herbal remedy.
"Come on, drink it all in one go. It tastes delicious, remember?" Esteban said with a wink, enjoying the fleeting feeling of petty revenge.
Diego had to agree with him: that green liquid was revolting. But he drank it all because, on top of its antiemetic properties, the mix had an added sedative, and at least he would be able to rest pain-free while he dozed off. He was looking forward to that.
"Come on, Son, I'll help you with your clothes," Don Alejandro said, pulling from his boots.
"That's not necessary. I'm alright."
"Nonsense. Sure, you'll be more comfortable on your night clothes instead of that tight waistcoat."
"Alright. Felipe can help me then."
"Since when are you that shy?"
"Don't you have something else to do, Father? You don't need to stay here as if I was a sick baby, you know? I feel a bit better already."
At that moment, before Don Alejandro could rebuke, María knocked on the door and announced Don José and his daughter, señorita Lucía, were waiting at the parlour.
"Not again!" Esteban cried. "I am going back to bed."
"Come on, she'll be happy to see you up and about. Come with me," Don Alejandro said, taking his nephew's arm to pull him towards the door. "Are you sure you'll be alright?"
"Yes, don't worry. Felipe can help me," Diego said.
Once they were left alone, Felipe helped Diego to take off his clothes. The white shirt had a small blood stain, which luckily had not gone through the waistcoat. It looked quite dry, so Diego assumed the wound wasn't bleeding that much anymore.
"Help me with the gown. We don't have much time now, so we'll change the dressings later. Can you insist to stay here with me tonight?"
Felipe nodded then, helping Diego with the sleeves.
"It's going to be difficult, I know, but I don't want them to find out, if at all possible. Now, give me a piece of paper to write a note for Victoria. I don't want her to be worried sick about what happened to Zorro. Take it to the tavern when you can, but don't let her see you leaving the note or she may become suspicious."
Felipe gave him a piece of paper and a pencil, and Diego wrote a few words in it quickly.
"Thank you, Felipe. What would I do without you?" he said, handing back the paper.
"You should rest now. Don't worry; I'll take care of everything."
"I know. I am so proud of you, thank you."
His stomach was settling by then, so he rested back on the pillows and closed his eyes, already feeling the effects of the sedative in the herbal mix, glad he could fall asleep while Felipe was in charge. He smiled when the youngster tucked his blanket snugly up to his neck.
"Gracias," he said softly, drifting off to sleep.
ZZZ
"He must be out there somewhere, dying like the dog he is," the alcalde said in the evening, furious because his clever plan to find Zorro had not worked. "We must be missing someone on this list!"
"Or maybe he's not from Los Angeles, mi alcalde. Maybe he is from Santa Paula, or another pueblo," Mendoza said.
"Don't be ridiculous! He comes and goes as he pleases, and he always knows where trouble is. He can't live far away. He has to be someone from Los Angeles. Someone who hides from me right here, in plain sight. The bastard!"
After a few hours spent dashing along in the carriage his rear end was very sore. He had enthusiastically engaged in the search for Zorro only because he hoped he could flog that man on the spot as retaliation for his aching bottom, before he would hang him the next day. But he didn't find the black ghost, and that made him extremely cross and thirsty for revenge.
"Bring me Victoria Escalante."
"Señorita Victoria? Why?"
"Don't you ever question my actions, Mendoza. Bring her in. Now!"
ZZZ
Esteban rested, back in his bedroom after Lucía's visit, reflecting on it. It had been a very awkward afternoon, and he regretted greatly what happened: he had been weak and stupid and had got involved with her, to his uncle's delight.
During the visit, she had insisted to take a short stroll in the garden and, reluctantly, he had followed her, encouraged by Don Alejandro, who was obviously thrilled to watch him pairing with his friend's daughter.
Lucía was a beautiful woman; there was no way to deny it. She had an amazing body, especially noticeable on that tight, pretty dress she was wearing that afternoon, one with a generous neckline he could not refrain from staring at. In other circumstances, in Madrid, he would not have been so cautious and reluctant to shamelessly take what she could offer. However, in Madrid, where his appetite for beautiful women could be satisfied almost every day, he wasn't in love with Victoria. But he had never gone through such a long patch without any sexual contact since he was fifteen. So, when she took his hand to guide him behind some bushes, too keen to find his lips, he was surprised by her forward manners but his male, primal instincts took over and he responded eagerly, craving for sex, with any rational thought buried in the mist of desire.
After a short while playing with her delicious tongue, his hands moved all over her and she replied moving hers up his back to hug him tighter. He gasped in pain then, coming back to reality. The alarm bells rang when he realized a lady should not behave like that, so he broke the embrace.
"We should not do this. It's not right," he said.
"Why not? I like you, and you like me as well, so…" she said, finding his mouth again, holding his head in place while messing with his hair. They carried on kissing until he pulled back to talk again.
"Yes, I like you, but I don't love you. Doesn't it bother you?"
"No, because you'll love me. Eventually. I know that."
"I would not be so sure about that."
To his utter surprise she slapped him hard then, and then she carried on kissing him with an urgency that didn't feel normal, or natural, hugging him again so tightly her hands dug into the sore wounds in his back. He was about to reject her as a mental case, pushing her away, when he heard someone clearing his throat behind them.
"You'll have to excuse my nephew. I think he has forgotten his manners, eclipsed by your beauty," Don Alejandro said, looking cross with his arms folded over his chest while tapping on the ground with his foot.
Lucía let go of Esteban and smiled coyly, lowering her gaze to the ground, blushing like a shy young lady would do under such circumstances.
"I'm so sorry, Don Alejandro. I know we should not behave like that, but I was so happy when he proposed I could not help myself," she said with her sweetest tone.
"Proposed?" Esteban and Don Alejandro said at the same time.
Esteban could not believe he had been framed like that, and he was out of words, looking at her with his mouth open like a fish out of water. That woman was crazy.
"That's fantastic news! Congratulations!" Don Alejandro said slapping Esteban's back quite hard, without thinking.
Esteban cried in pain then, and suddenly feeling weak and dizzy, he sat on the bench at his right, biting his lower lip, overly miserable.
"Sorry, I don't know how could I forget… I'm so sorry. Are you alright?" Don Alejandro said. Esteban didn't answer, but waved his hand to be left alone, so Don Alejandro offered his arm to Lucía to guide her back into the house. "Come on, dear, let's tell you father the good news, shall we?"
They had left Esteban behind wondering what had happened, and now, back in his room, he was still wondering.
ZZZ
"Victoria, it's me, Pilar. Please, open the door."
Victoria lifted her head from the tear-soaked pillow, and then she ran to the door hoping her employee had news about Zorro.
"Do you know anything?" she asked when she opened the door.
"No. I am so sorry, Victoria. Sergeant Mendoza is here. The alcalde wants to see you now."
Victoria looked outside her room. Mendoza was in the corridor, hiding behind Pilar, looking nervous and apologetic.
"I'm really sorry, señorita Victoria, but I have to take you to the alcalde's office."
"What for?"
"I don't know, señorita, but he is in a foul mood, so we better hurry up. He probably wants to ask you about Zorro, but as you don't know who he is…"
"I'm not going with you, Sergeant."
"Oh, please, señorita, you have to come. He ordered me to drag you there by any means, but of course, I don't want to do that. "Drag her by the hair if you have to," he said."
"I'm not going anywhere with you. You shot Zorro! How could you? I thought you were a friend."
"It was an accident, I swear! Please, you have to believe me. And you have to believe me when I say you better come with me now before the alcalde gets any angrier."
"Go, Victoria. There is nothing you, or anybody else, can do," Pilar said.
"But, what is he going to do? Throw me in jail again? Zorro can't possibly come to rescue me this time, so that trap will be ridiculous."
"He probably wants to ask you about him, but as you don't have a clue on where he is, you have nothing to fear. The alcalde has nothing on you," Pilar said.
"I hope you are right," Victoria said, getting out of her room to follow Mendoza.
"But Sergeant, you have to guarantee her safety. Can you do that?" Pilar said.
"Yes, of course, I think so. But, you know, the alcalde… I don't know what he wants. Come on, señorita, let's find out."
ZZZ
Thanks to the sedative, Diego slept peacefully all afternoon, but in the evening his sleeping pattern changed and his temperature rose dramatically.
"I don't like this. He's boiling now," Don Alejandro said after touching Diego's sweaty forehead. His son moved his head away then, murmuring something unintelligible. "I think he is febrile. Wake up, Diego. Wake up!"
Don Alejandro gave Diego a nudge, but he didn't react. He continued mumbling incoherently, not waking up, even when his father gave him a good shake by the shoulders and slapped his face.
"I definitely don't like this. I think we should get the doctor."
Felipe tried to downplay the seriousness of Diego's condition, but Don Alejandro would not have it.
"If you don't want to go, Felipe, I'll send someone else to get Doctor Hernández. Diego hasn't vomited for a few hours now, but he looks worse than before. Esteban recovered very quickly after drinking that herbal mix. There is something else going on here."
Hearing that, Felipe volunteered to call Doctor Hernández. If that was inevitable, at least he could tell him the situation beforehand, so it wasn't a shock for the good doctor finding Zorro in Diego's bed.
On the way to the pueblo, he could only hope Diego wouldn't say anything incriminating while he was delirious.
ZZZ
"Señorita Escalante, what a pleasure," the alcalde said, smiling like a hyena, giving her a chill. "Take a seat, please."
She sat down on a chair at his desk, not saying a word, waiting for him to talk. He was standing by his desk, obviously uncomfortable to sit down, and she smiled inwardly imagining the thrashing Zorro gave him with his whip. He took a while to talk, walking first around the desk to face her.
"You do wonder why you are here, don't you?"
"Yes."
"It is very simple: I want you to tell me who your lover is and where can I find him."
"My lover? Do you mean Zorro?"
"Of course. Forget about all the others," he said, scolding her as if she was a whore.
"How dare you? Of course there are no others!"
"Easier for you to remember their whereabouts, then. Where is Zorro?"
"Alcalde, we talked about this so many times before: I don't know who he is, and I don't know where he hides."
"And you always expect me to believe that, don't you?" the alcalde said approaching her to take her chin in his hand, lifting her head up.
"Yes. I don't know."
"Liar!" the alcalde said, slapping her so hard she nearly fell off the chair. Too proud to cry, she swallowed her tears with her face filled with loathing for the man in front of her. "He is badly injured this time, so unless you tell me where he is hiding, he is going to die a painful, slow, lonely death without hope."
"I don't know where he is, but if I knew, I would prefer him to die free rather than at the gallows!" she cried. Ramón slapped her other cheek then with the back of his gloved hand, making Mendoza so nervous he had to intervene.
"Mi alcalde, I don't think you should do that," he said softly, gulping.
"Shut up, Mendoza! Who asked for your opinion?!" Ramón barked, red-faced and enraged like crazy. "Take this treacherous woman to a cell, where she will stay until she talks or Zorro gives himself up!"
"He'll never give up! He'll never surrender!" she cried. The alcalde lifted his hand but before he could hit her again Mendoza got on the way and took her by the arm.
"Come on, señorita, let's go. Please."
Victoria stood up and followed the sergeant, willing to get away from that despicable man.
"I am so sorry, señorita," Mendoza said when he closed the cell door.
"It's not your fault, Sergeant."
"I'll bring you a blanket."
"Thank you."
After the sergeant left, she lay on the uncomfortable bench wrapped up on that blanket, alone in the dark, back to where she was only a few days ago, although it felt like a long time had passed since she had been in jail with the De la Vegas. She wondered how Esteban was doing, but only briefly, because she could hardly think about anything or anyone else but Zorro. The alcalde was right: he could die a slow, painful, lonely death, and there was nothing she could do about it. She curled up in a ball under the blanket and gave up in despair again, crying a river, without a hankie to soak the tears. She thought about Diego then, and how comforting it would be crying in his arms one more time.
ZZZZZ