Dennis Wheatley - Vendetta in Spain

Removing his kepi the young man introduced himself by the name of Navarez and announced that he had been nominated to act as 'Prisoner's Friend'.

De Richleau gave a start. As a soldier he knew well what the term implied. 'What!' he exclaimed. 'Does this mean that I am to be court-martialled?'

The young man nodded. 'Yes, of course. But we are lucky in that we shall not have long to wait this morning.'

'This morning!'

'Since the revolt a court-martial has been convened to sit at ten o'clock every morning. It administers summary justice to all political prisoners that have been brought in during the preceding twenty-four hours. But such cases have been much fewer during the past week, and we are the only one on today's list; so our case should be heard right away.'

De Richleau knew then, beyond all doubt, that Urgoiti did intend to frame him as Veragua's murderer. It was a terrifying thought. He stared aghast at the young officer who evidently disliked the job he had been given but had been made callous to it from having had to perform a similar function several times in the past month. He was going on with hurried unconcern:

'I understand that you are a Russian nihilist and that last night you killed a detective. If thbse are the facts I don't think there is much that I can do for you; but if you have any line of defence let me hear it and I'll put it to the Court.'

Thank you,' said the Duke. There is only one thing you can do for me. That is to go up to the Fortress at once and tell General Quiroga that. . .'

He got no further. Take a message from a prisoner to that old tiger,' interrupted the Lieutenant derisively. Ts it likely? He'd have my head off.'

'Very well then, let it be a written message that you can deliver without seeing him.'

'Prisoners awaiting trial are not allowed to send letters to anyone outside the jail.*

De Richleau drew in a sharp breath. Then I fear there is nothing that you can do for me. I prefer to defend myself.'

'That is not permitted. If all the rebels who have been before the Court during the past month had been allowed to talk their heads off the Court would never have got through. It would still be sitting next Christmas.'

'Do you mean,' asked the Duke with rising alarm, 'that I shall not be allowed to say a word in my own defence? That I must leave it to you to put the bare bones of anything I tell you before the Court, and that on that alone my life will hang?'

Navarez nodded. 'That's the usual procedure in these routine cases. And the Court doesn't take long to reach a verdict. If it does turn out that you didn't kill this 'tec you'll be a free man by about half past ten. If not. . . well.'

'Well what?'

For the first time the young man looked slightly uncomfortable. Fingering his small moustache, he muttered, 'You may as well know what to expect. These Courts are convened to administer summary justice. Establishing them was the only way to stop bombs being thrown into the better-class restaurants and officers walking in the streets being shot from windows. They have succeeded in that; but only because it is now known by everybody that any prisoner found guilty is given no second chance. In the yard behind the building in which the Court sits a firing squad is always kept in a state of readiness. If it's thumbs down you'll be taken out to it straight away.'

De Richleau had paled under his tan. He realized now that he was in desperate danger. Urgoiti had known the procedure and counted with well-founded confidence on events taking the course usual in such cases. It might be all over before Quiroga heard a word about it. Afterwards Urgoiti, with his tongue in his cheek, would bow to the storm and accept a reprimand. But he need not fear anything worse as he could plead a belief that it was Quiroga who had been deceived, and all he had done was to send up for trial a Russian nihilist who, to prevent himself being exposed in his true colours, had shot a detective.

'Well?' said Navarez. 'Time's getting on. If you have got a plea to make you'd better let me hear it.'

'If I told you the truth you would never believe me,' replied de Richleau bitterly.

'No harm in trying me,' remarked the lieutenant with calm indifference.

'Very well then. My proper style and title is His Excellency Major-General the Duke de Richleau, Count de Quesnoy, Count Konigstein, Knight of the Most Exalted Order of the Golden Fleece. I am a British subject and a personal friend of your King, with whom I have sat at table three times during the past month. I arrived in Barcelona . . .'

'That's enough!' snapped Navarez. 'What sort of a fool do you take me for? But perhaps you're trying to be funny. If so, let me tell you this is no time for joking.'

'As it is I who look like shortly facing a firing squad, and not you, it is unnecessary to remind me of that.'

'Let's have the truth then.'

'Apart from sparing you some of my lesser titles and honours I have told it; but I also told you first that you would not believe me. I don't suppose you will believe either that for the two nights preceding this last one, I was staying up at Montjuich as General Quiroga's guest.' *

'Of course I don't,' the young officer's voice had become impatient. 'Is it likely that the Captain-General would entertain a nihilist?'

'You have no shadow of proof that I am a nihilist,' retorted de Richleau angrily. 'Do I look or speak like one?'

The Lieutenant shrugged. 'I am told that some of them are educated men who have become mentally deranged. One of the most famous is a Russian Prince. I forget his name but it begins with K.'

'Kropotkin,' supplied the Duke. 'All right. You have me there. But at least I ask you to believe that for most of my life I have been a soldier. You are a soldier, too, so we both know that the quickest way to earn promotion is to display courage.'

'What has this to do with your case?'

'That it gives you a chance to display your courage. Go and see General Quiroga for me,* or even telephone to him. He cannot eat you. On the contrary he will think the better of you for having bearded him rather than see a man condemned who may be innocent. I swear to you by all I hold sacred . . .'

'What? That you did not kill this detective?'

'No. I do not deny that I shot him, but. . .'

'Since you admit your guilt I'll be damned if I'll beard the Captain-General on your account.'

De Richleau sat down on the truckle bed and put his head between his hands. He had been in many a tight corner before but in nearly all of them he had at least had the chance to fight his way out. This time there was no such chance. He had been trapped under a false identity and caught up in a swift-moving judicial process designed only as an emergency measure to crush a serious revolt. It really began to look as though, should he fail to get word of his plight to Quiroga, he would find himself facing a firing squad before the morning was out. For a minute or more he racked his brains for a way to persuade or bully Navarez into acting as his messenger. Then a new idea occurred to him. Springing to his feet, he cried:

'I am a British subject. I demand to see the British Consul.'

'You told me you were when you made all those other damn fool claims about yourself,' the Lieutenant replied coldly. 'Have you any papers to prove it?'

'No. But as a British national I demand to see my Consul.'

'You are in no position to demand anything.'

'All right then. I request, beg if you will, that he should be brought here.'

Navarez shook his head. 'We've had dozens of foreign nationals through our hands: Frenchmen, Italians, Greeks; mostly seamen from ships in the docks who joined the revolutionaries. With the city under Martial Law they were treated like the rest. In an emergency formalities such as notifying Consuls have to be waived, and the emergency is still on.'