Dennis Wheatley - Unholy Crusade

`I regret, Excellencia.' Adam shook his head. `My mind is made up. I will discuss my situation only with the Senor Enriquez.'

For some minutes longer the Police Chief endeavoured to cajole him into talking. Then, as Adam made no reply and sat there staring at his large feet, he said testily to the detective, `Oh, take him away, Mejia, and give him the treatment.'

The words were ominous. Into Adam's tired brain there flickered terrifying images of people being plunged into ice cold baths, beaten with flexible steel rods, and other horrors perpetrated by the Nazis. Endeavouring to fight down his fears, he went with

Mejia to a room on another floor. It was sparsely furnished with table and hard chairs. An adjustable electric light with a cone shaped shade hung from the centre of the ceiling. The detective told Adam to sit down at one end of the table and adjusted the light so that it shone into his eyes. He then spoke into an old fashioned house telephone fixed to the wall.

After about five minutes another plain clothes man, a fair haired Mexican, appeared. With him was a woman carrying a notebook obviously a stenographer. Adam was quite fascinated by the narrowness of Mejia's pointed nose as the light shone on it; but next moment the others took places on either side of Adam, and Mejia, sitting down opposite him, said sharply:

`I understand that you have had a long and unusually distressing day. All of us here have been on duty for many hours; so we, too, would like to go to bed. Please therefore be sensible and do not keep us up all night. Your statement, please. Adam employed the same tactics as he had in the Police Chief's office. he kept his mouth tightly shut and his eyes lowered to the table. Even so, the strong light from the lamp focused on him partially penetrated his eyelids, giving them a rosy glow.

How long the session lasted he had no idea. Every few minutes one of the detectives shot a question at him. At times he fell asleep and slumped forward on to the table. Each time he did so the fair haired young man stood up and shook him into wakefulness. they used no brutality, but the glare of the light was in itself a torture. At last he could stand it no more. Woken for the tenth time, he lurched to his feet, grasped the edge of the table in his great hands, lifted and heaved it right over. Mejia was sent flying backward and temporarily pinned to the floor. The other two went to his rescue, while shouting abuse at Adam over their shoulders. But he did not hear it. Utterly exhausted, he, too, had slumped to the floor and lay there unconscious.

He woke next morning in his cell. His bleak surroundings Brought the events of the previous day and night flooding back to him. Turning over on the truckle bed, he groaned aloud. Grimily, he realised that had it not been for Chela he would never have landed himself in this ghastly mess. Almost he was inclined to curse her. But he loved her. She had given him greater happiness than he had ever believed it possible for a woman to give a man. But why, oh why, had the fates imbued her with this damnable fanaticism? She was sweet and gentle, but another side of her was completely ruthless. Under the influence of the sinister

Don Alberuque it seemed that she would stick at nothing to further their cause. That she loved him in her fashion he had no

doubt, but she had not had the least scruple about using him. And now that the conspiracy had been nipped in the bud by his arrest, what could the future hold for either of them? For him, unless Ramon could get him out, years of imprisonment. For her, since she was so deeply religious, her bitter disappointment at the failure of her plans might well lead her to take the veil and busy herself for life in a convent.

In due course he was brought tortillas with a mess of onions, and later more tortillas with tomatoes. All day he hoped that he would be sent for to be interviewed by Ramon and, alternatively, dreaded that he would be summoned to undergo another grilling. But no one came to fetch him and for hour after hour he lay on the bed, a prey to black despair.

That night he slept fitfully, being more conscious of the much colder climate now that he was again at an altitude of seven thousand five hundred feet. In the morning he washed as best he could in the bucket provided, then again lay down with his anxieties revolving in his mind like a squirrel in a cage.

It was about eleven o'clock when the warder who looked like an ex pugilist came for him. He was taken to another bleak room. Ramon was standing there, and the warder left them alone together.

He greeted Ramon with a pale smile. Ramon did not return it. Instead he regarded Adam with an angry stare and exclaimed, `So you ratted on me! You bloody fool!

`No!' Adam protested. `I didn't. I swear I didn't.'

`Oh yes, you did. It was clear as crystal that you had fallen for Chela. She twisted you round her little finger and persuaded you to play the part of Quetzalcoatl. Well, you've asked for it and you'll get it. Ten years in gaol.'

Adam quailed at the thought of such an awful prospect; but temper came to his aid and he burst out angrily, `If that happens, it will be you who have let me in for it. It was you who persuaded me to act as your cat's paw and go spy the land for you during my motor trip. Damn it, owing to you I was nearly murdered by that mob at San Luis. And on my return I reported everything I had found out. You can't deny that.'

`No,' Ramon admitted, his expression still hard. `I don't. But since that, you've played the turncoat. Chela was with you at Uxmal and you posed for her as Quetzalcoatl. Explain that if you can.'

`I can. I was working on the line I promised you I would: playing along with her to find out for you what I could. But the trouble was that I couldn't get in touch with you to let you know what was being planned.'

`What! Do you mean to tell me that a whole fortnight went by and you were so busy that you couldn't find a moment to ring me up. I don't believe you.'

`It's true; though.' Adam felt that he could not give away the fact that he had spent most of that time honeymooning with Chela, so he went on rather unconvincingly, `For eight days I was held… well… incommunicado. Then I was taken down to Uxmal. You must know how difficult it is to get a call through from there to Mexico City. Before I had a chance this thing was sprung upon me. I was faced with the choice of either playing along or throwing in my hand. What would you have done?'

It was now Ramon who seemed a little uncertain. `I… well, I suppose I would have done as you did. But it still doesn't explain why you didn't tip me off.'

`Damn it, man, I've already told you! I was never left alone for a moment. If I had been caught telephoning to you I would have been rumbled. They would have smelled a rat, changed their plans and, perhaps, bumped me off. And this is all the thanks I get for risking my neck on your behalf! For ingratitude you take the cake. I have been counting on you to get me out of here.'

`If I could believe you, of course I would. But I'm not certain that I do. Give me the names of the ringleaders in this conspiracy and perhaps I might.'

`Don Alberuque is the king pin. His principal lieutenant is a Father Lopez.'

Ramon gave a cynical laugh. `Do you take me for a simpleton? Alberuque is a clever and important man, but he is not a Prince of the Church. This is an attempt by the Church to regain her temporal power in Mexico by using these half baked Indians. It is the names of the prelates we want the really big boys who are behind this thing.'

`You are barking up the wrong tree,' Adam replied earnestly. `I'm convinced that they are not involved. They know nothing about it. With a very few exceptions, this revolt is to be led by Mestizos and Indian clergy who are still half pagan and besotted with superstition.'