Dennis Wheatley - Unholy Crusade

Suddenly Adam realised that his violent temper and dislike of Alberuque had led him into adopting an attitude the very opposite to that he should have taken. Berating himself as the worst possible secret agent, he made an effort to retrieve the situation

by replying:

`I would have gone to the Senorita Chela and offered to resume my role as Quetzalcoatl.'

Alberuque's thin lips drew back in a snarl. `Oh no, you would not! You lie! You would have done nothing of the sort. You would have left Mexico on the first aircraft in which you could get a passage.'

`What leads you to think that?'

`I am certain of it. On your last night in Uxmal, after Father Suarez had rescued you from the police, you had a bitter quarrel with the Senorita Chela. You told her that you were through with this whole business. That nothing would induce you to appear again as Quetzalcoatl. That is why I had you taken from prison. I can now ensure that you will remain with us and, when the time comes, again appear before my people as the Man God.'

These angry exchanges and Alberuque's disclosure of his distrust finally cut the ground from under Adam's original intention of appearing to give his co operation willingly. His resentment at this threat of coercion led him to set his jaw stubbornly and declare, `You can't force me to.'

`Indeed, Senor Gordon, I can.' The Monsignor's voice had become honeyed again. `You seem to have forgotten what took place last night. With the assistance of some fifty raiders, you broke out of prison. Owing to this plot, of which it will be assumed that you had knowledge, a number of people lost their lives. For that the government will hold you, in part, responsible. But there is much more to it than that. During the riot an unfortunate warder took refuge in your cell and, to save himself, locked himself in with you. What happened then? In order to gain your freedom you needed his keys. To get them, you strangled him.'

'You swine!' Adam roared. `That is a filthy lie! I did my utmost to prevent his being murdered by your thug Jacko.'

Again Alberuque's uneven teeth showed in a smile. `I am aware of that. But who will believe you? My big Negro and his companions are prepared to swear that, when they succeeded with another key, in getting into your cell, they saw you choking the warder to death.'

He paused for a moment, then went on with silky satisfaction, `Refuse to obey my orders, Senor Gordon, and I will turn you over to the police. My people will give evidence against you. And I will tell you what will happen then. As there is no capital punishment in Mexico, you will be sentenced to life imprisonment. But do not imagine that, as in England, by good conduct you will be freed in time to enjoy a happy middle and old age. Here we are not so soft with murderers who have killed without provocation.

Such dangerous and useless mouths are not allowed to remain a charge upon the taxpayers. After a week or two a small paragraph will appear in the papers, simply stating that “Senor Gordon was shot while attempting to escape”.'

Again the smooth voice stopped, then went on softly, `But I am confident that you are much too sensible to bring upon yourself such a premature and unpleasant end. Instead, you will appear again to a chosen audience as the Man God, Quetzalcoatl. After you have done that, I shall have no more use for you.'

Adam realised then that he had been caught in the toils of this arch conspirator. Next moment as, disconcerted, he stared at Alberuque, his heart was gripped with awful fear. The reason for his instinctive loathing for the man had suddenly been revealed to him. Those cold, dead, fishlike eyes were the eyes of the High Priest, Itzechuatl, from whom Mirolitlit had saved him. And in those eyes there again lay the threat of death.

CHAPTER 16

The Terrible Betrayal

ADAM'S mind was in a whirl. He was so positive now that Alberuque had been Itzechuatl that he could not think how he had failed to recognise him before. The man's features were different, just as Chela's were from those of Mirolitlit. It was the personality that inexplicably but unmistakably came through. No wonder that at their first meeting he had felt repulsion for the smooth tongued Monsignor. And now, added to that, there was fear - fear that Itzechuatl had known him from the outset and, once he had used him, intended to exact vengeance for having been cheated of his Man God victim a thousand years ago.

With an effort, Adam endeavoured to assess his chances in this new and terrifying situation. The reason why Jacko had strangled the warder was now plain. The fiendish Alberuque had ordered the murder so that he could frame the rescued prisoner with it. Who could now possibly fail to believe that all the time he, Adam, had been hand in glove with the conspirators, had never had any intention of letting Ramon know about the gathering at Uxmal and, by secret means while in prison, had connived at the plan to rescue him whatever the cost in lives? It would be assumed by everyone that a lust for power had gone to his head and that, regardless of the strife and misery a civil war would cause, he hoped to rule Mexico as the returned Quetzalcoatl.

Now, if he again fell into the hands of the police, his number would be up with a vengeance. As the man responsible for the murders in the prison, his name would be execrated by all decent people throughout Mexico. A life sentence would be bad enough; but he had a horrid feeling that Alberuque had not been lying about the fate he might expect, and that for such a crime the government would see to it that he was shot `while attempting to escape'. The only alternatives left to him were to do as Alberuque wished or, if he could escape, endeavour to disguise himself and get out of the country clandestinely. Fighting down his fear and anger, he managed after a moment to mutter:

`I take it, then, that you intend to hold me a prisoner here?' The Monsignor shrugged. `I do not need to. Should you be so ill advised as to leave this place, I shall take steps to let the authorities know that you are at large, and within a few hours you will be arrested. It will be only a few days now before my plans for your final appearance are completed. During that time you may enjoy the freedom of this house and its garden.'

Adam thought quickly. Chela had got him into this and, if she still loved him, she might help to get him out of it. Owing to her devotion to Alberuque, that seemed unlikely; but it was at least a possibility in fact his only hope. So he said

`The time of waiting is certain to prove a great strain. To ease it, would you allow the Senorita Chela to visit me?'

`I see no reason to refuse. But you must content yourself with walking with her in the garden. This house is conducted as a monastery, so it would not be fitting that she should enter it. Later I will telephone her and find out if she is free to come here either tomorrow afternoon or the next.'

`Thank you.' As Adam spoke, it occurred to him that it would be sound tactics to pretend resignation, so he added

`In the meantime, can I have something to read?'

With a wave of his smooth hand, Alberuque indicated the many shelves of books. `Choose what you like. I now have some work to do; but it will not take me more than half an hour. At the end of that time, this room will be at your disposal.'

Seeing that there was no more to be said, Adam nodded curtly, turned about and went back upstairs to his room. There, preferring the bed to the hard seated chair, he lay down and again gloomily contemplated the results of having come to Mexico in search of background colour for a novel. He had hit both the high spots and the low spots. The hours he had spent alone with Chela had been sheer heaven, those while in custody at the Merida airport unadulterated hell. In addition there were others that also seemed to have been out of this world. There were times when he could not really believe that he had sacrificed a pig at San Luis Caliente, or stood garbed in barbaric splendour on the top of the Pyramid of the Magician at Uxmal. Those episodes far more nearly resembled his dreams of past lives. In fact the whole conception of a plot to use him as Quetzalcoatl and launch a revolution that would set modern Mexico back a thousand years seemed utterly fantastic.