Suddenly she flung her arms round him and burst into tears. As he tried to comfort her, she sobbed out, ‘But, Adam, you must go on! You must! Surely you realise that the news of your appearance at San Luis has now spread all over the country? Thousands of poor people are looking to you as the Man-God, whose light and power will enable them to escape from their wretchedness to better, happier lives. You can’t let a whole people down like this. Even if you don’t really love me, you must think of them. But you do love me, don’t you?’
‘Of course I do, my sweet,’ he assured her.
‘Then do it for my sake, if not for theirs. And I’d planned things so beautifully. About a fortnight is still needed until everything is ready for the great day. My work is finished. There is no more I can do until I bring you, as I’ve promised I would, to the place of Recognition.’
After several loud sniffs, she sat up and went on, ‘I’ve told my family that in a few days’ time I have to make another round of school inspections. But I’ve a tiny villa down at Acapulco, which no-one knows anything about. It has a little oratory in it and I bought it so that I could go to live there while I was doing retreats, and wouldn’t have my mind disturbed. Although I’ll confess that I have used it for other purposes as well. The sun and the sea in that beautiful bay are heavenly, and I had planned that we should spend ten days there. Just the two of us on a sort of honeymoon before, before …’
Again she began, to cry. His heart aching, Adam let her go on until her sobbing eased, then he said gently, ‘Darling, I hate to put it to you so bluntly. But are you telling me that unless I agree to play the part of Quetzalcoatl there will be no honeymoon at Acapulco?’
Drying her eyes, she murmured, ‘I didn’t mean quite that. I love you so much that I’ll spend those ten days with you anyway. But they won’t be the same as I’d expected them to be. All the time I will be thinking of my failure to persuade you, and how everything may go wrong because of that.’
Miserably Adam heard her out, then he said, ‘For your sake, sweet, I think I could face up to the primitive barbarity of these ceremonies, but there is another side to it. Whatever you may think, this is not going to be a walk-over for your people. The government is not going to throw in its hand without a fight. It will have the support of the wealthy and the new, well-to-do middle class, who are quite certain to meet force with force, rather than see themselves robbed of their possessions. Your Indians will be armed only with old-fashioned rifles, a few revolvers, knives and sabres. The other side will have tanks, machine-guns and tear gas. I know you put your faith in holy banners, and that sort of thing, but they are not going to prove of any value against fire-power. You may be right that, in the end, you will win owing to the fanaticism of the Indians, and sheer weight of numbers. But, believe me, if you do launch this crusade, thousands of people are going to die in agony before it ends. And I can’t bring myself to be a party to starting it.’
With a sigh, she said, ‘No; I understand. And I suppose you are right. There is bound to be opposition and it may not be easy to overcome. I have always believed that faith can work miracles; but several of our people have told me recently that we must be prepared to sacrifice many lives in order to win through. But we must go on; we must. It’s too late now to draw back. We must put our trust in God and with or without your help, somehow destroy the tyrants.’
For a time they lay silent, then she leaned on an elbow and looked straight into his eyes again. ‘Darling, let’s agree that you are right, and that there will be terrible fighting. I’m not quite so besotted about my people as to think them saints. They have a savage streak in them that will come out when they see their friends shot down. Many of them will go berserk, give no quarter and behave with terrible brutality.
‘If you were paramount among them you could prevent that. As the Man-God, whatever you decreed would be scrupulously obeyed. Not one of them would dare disobey your divine commands. If you decreed that there must be no burning, no looting, no killing of prisoners, you could save many lives and an infinity of misery. Had you thought of that?’
Adam had not. She had presented to him an entirely new aspect of the part he could play in the coming struggle; and she was obviously convinced that nothing could now stop it from taking place. Knowing that the authorities were on to it, he doubted that; but she might be right. Greatly as he sympathised with the wretched lot of the Indians, he still felt that it was up to him to do what he could to prevent a revolt, and to accept the role of Quetzalcoatl could only stimulate it.
On the other hand, as Quetzalcoatl he would learn the intentions of the conspirators. He would then be in a position to pass on such information to Ramón and so give the Ministry of Security a much better chance to prevent the rebellion, by arresting the leaders just before they intended to start it.
Mentally he squirmed at the thought of playing such a role. It would mean betraying in the basest manner the woman who had given him her love. He already realised that, behind her noble profile and high, narrow forehead, there lay the mind of a fanatic, and a confused mind at that. In some strange way she reconciled a fervid belief in the Roman Catholic Faith with a contemptuous disregard for its moral precepts—for she had made no secret of it to Adam that from the age of seventeen she had had a succession of lovers. Again, by some inexplicable mental gymnastic, she could see nothing contrary to the principles of Christianity in permitting the Indians to couple in their thoughts their pagan gods with Christian saints, and to perform blood sacrifices in immediate succession to the celebration of the Mass. Perhaps the strangest contrast of all was that for one half of her life she was an elegant, beautifully-gowned leader of Mexico’s wildly extravagant young socialites who drank and danced till dawn, and for the other half she was a teacher and conscientious Inspector of Schools, working for an agnostic government that she detested. Yet all this made it no less the fact that, should he do as she wished, and pass on to Ramón the knowledge of the conspiracy he gained thereby, he would be qualifying for a new nickname—‘Judas’ Gordon.
They were lying embraced. Suddenly he freed himself from her arms, sat up in bed and said, ‘Darling, I’ve got to think. Stay where you are. I won’t be long.’
Getting out of bed, he went into the bathroom. He much preferred baths to showers, but realised that now a shower would serve him better. To start with, he turned the water on lukewarm, then he increased the cold flow until it became icy and he was shivering. Turning off the water, he stepped through into the bathroom, dried himself, then sat down on the edge of the bath and once more grappled with his problem.
If he stood aside, it seemed unlikely that the Ministry of Security would secure enough information during the next ten days to prevent an outbreak of violence. If there was an outbreak, it was absolutely certain that many innocent people would die or suffer before it could be suppressed. If he took on the role of Quetzalcoatl, there was a good chance that he could enable the Ministry to prevent a rebellion from starting. If, even so, it did occur, and the Indian masses succeeded in overwhelming the forces of the government, as the Man-God his powers would be immense. He could prevent excesses during the conflict and, after it, become the protector of the defeated. His mind was no longer clouded with doubt. However heavy the burden on his own conscience of betraying Chela, his duty lay in endeavouring to save the thousands of innocent people from the blood-bath of a revolution.
Returning to the bedroom, he smiled at Chela and said, ‘You win, darling. I’ll do as you wish.’
He little knew what he was letting himself in for.
11
The Stolen Honeymoon
Now that the die was cast, Adam put the future out of his mind and Chela’s happiness was unalloyed. Time drifted by unnoticed as they talked, laughed and delighted in one another. It was not until they felt hungry that they looked at the time and found it to be half past eight. Rather than dress and go out or to the restaurant, they decided to dine there and studied the elaborate room me
nu together. Chela collected her clothes from the floor and took refuge in the bathroom, while Adam rang for the floor waiter and ordered double portions of everything; which, as he towered over the man by a head and shoulders, did not seem to surprise him.
When the meal had been wheeled in, Chela put on one of Adam’s pyjama jackets which, tall as she was, came down to her knees. Giggling, they shared the glass and Adam cut up the food, feeding her with the fork. Replete with champagne, a truffled omelette, lobster and strawberries, they went back to bed; but as they had decided to make a fairly early start the next morning and Chela had to pack, she dressed before midnight and, after many kisses, left him.
At nine o’clock the following morning, Adam rang up the Enriquezes’ penthouse and, using an assumed name, asked for Ramón. His intention was to report that he had accepted the role of Quetzalcoatl with the object of finding out the conspirators’ plans, but Ramón had already gone out.
At ten o’clock Chela arrived in her car and they set off on their two-hundred-and-sixty-mile drive. The way out of the city lay through a seemingly endless suburb, towards the end of which Adam noticed that at the roadside the small houses and shops had numbers over five thousand. But, at last, they were clear of the built-up area and out on the fine motorway to the south.
It was the road on which lay both Cuernavaca and Taxco, but by-passes took them round those cities. By that time they had come down several thousand feet, it was much hotter and the vegetation gave ample evidence of the difference in temperature. They had left behind the almost barren mountain slopes upon which little but occasional groups of firs and casuarinas grew. The hillsides were now more thickly wooded, there were many palms and, here and there, clusters of spiky euphorbias, some looking in the distance like irregular patches of straight poles from twelve to fifteen feet in height and others like giant hands with many prickly fingers.
For the whole of the way from Mexico City to Acapulco the road was fenced on both sides, to prevent animals from straying on to it and becoming a danger to the traffic, and the surface was so good that, along straight stretches, they were able to travel at ninety miles an hour. Patches of cultivation were few and far between but, after Taxco, every half-mile or so beyond the wire fence there were groups of from twenty to forty square-topped, gaily-painted beehives, and the country became much more picturesque. The last forty-odd miles of their drive was alongside a wide, but almost dried-up, river bed. Wooded mountains rose on every side, the road curved sharply every few hundred yards to run up steep gradients, then plunge down again, and, beyond the heights in their immediate vicinity, there was always a vista of blue mountains in the distance.
It was four o’clock when they entered Acapulco, with its beautiful mountain-surrounded double bay. After all that Adam had read about Mexico, he expected to see some evidence of the ancient glories of this city which, in the seventeenth century, had been the largest port on the Pacific in all the Americas.
Spanish expeditions had sailed from it to establish new colonies as far south as Chile and as far north as San Francisco. It had also been the Spaniards’ base for trading with their settlements in the East Indies and Manila. Since their rivals, the Portuguese, had denied them a peaceful passage home by the western route via Ceylon, the Spaniards had sent all their rich cargoes of spices, silks and ivories from the East to Acapulco, had them carried by thousands of native porters overland to Vera Cruz, then shipped again across the Atlantic to Spain. The Philippines had, in fact, been ruled from Mexico, which is why today their culture has no resemblance to that of their Asiatic neighbours, but is entirely Spanish.
But, except for a double-domed cathedral facing the little square, not a building was left from the days when great fleets of unwieldy galleons, caravels and pinnaces had sailed from Acapulco harbour. In recent years it had become a holiday resort of the first rank, rivalling Juan les Pins or Miami Beach for luxury and high prices.
Chela turned left along the great sweep of the southernmost bay. Interspersed with lines of palm trees, there reared up huge, many-storeyed hotels of glass and concrete. On the inland side of the road were more modest buildings: restaurants, airline offices, cafés, motels, tourist agencies, night clubs and garages, eager to supply every facility for the enjoyment of this sunny playground. After some two miles they gave way to another two miles of private villas set in spacious gardens; then, when the car had reached the far end of the bay, facing the town, Chela turned off the coast road to take one that wound up a steep hill.
‘This,’ she told Adam, ‘is the Las Brisas estate. It is mainly occupied by an hotel which is unique. I don’t think there is another quite like it in the world.’
Craning his neck, Adam looked up the wooded eight-hundred-foot-high hillside they were climbing. Between the trees, and what looked like croton hedges, he could see scattered about quite a number of small, flat-roofed villas, but no building of any size, and he asked:
‘Where is the hotel? All I can see is scores of little bungalows.’
She laughed. ‘They are the hotel. Each consists of a big double bedroom and bathroom. In each there is a fridge containing soft drinks and a big dish of fruit, and above it there is a bar carrying a selection of a dozen wines, spirits and liqueurs. Outside is a terrace with a private swimming pool, chairs, tables and lilos, which cannot be overlooked from any of the other little villas. Every morning one of the hotel boys comes up, cleans the pool and scatters a hundred or so hibiscus blossoms on it, while another leaves a set of thermos containers outside the door, so that you have only to take it in and have a hot breakfast at any hour you wish. The hotel owns over a hundred jeeps. Look, there is one with its red and white striped awning. If you wish to go to the restaurant, halfway down the slope, you have only to ring up for one. Or they will take you right down to the shore, where there are several big enclosures for swimming, protected from sharks, speedboats for water ski-ing, barbecues and bars. So you can take your choice: either join the merry throng along the beach, or telephone down for your meals to be sent up to you and live like sybaritic hermits in your private heaven.’
Adam turned to smile at her. ‘How absolutely marvellous. But you told me you had your own villa, so I take it we will have to fend for ourselves.’
She shook her head. ‘No, darling. There are quite a number of villas on the far side of the estate that are privately owned but enjoy the service of the hotel. I have one of them and we’ll soon be there.’
Ten minutes later they arrived. Chela had telephoned in advance, so they found everything ready for their reception: the bar re-stocked, blossoms floating on the surface of the oval swimming pool, big bath towels laid out on the lilos, and flowers on the altar of Chela’s little chapel.
As Adam entered the spacious, air-conditioned bedroom, he had not failed to notice that, instead of twin beds, it contained the largest double bed he had ever seen. Chela had made no secret of it that she had used this luxury hideout before for quite other purposes than periods of solitary religious contemplation and, as she went into her oratory to say a short prayer of thanksgiving for their safe arrival, he marvelled again at the complexity of her nature.
The villa was four hundred feet up the hillside and from the terrace there was a magnificent vista across the great bay, but it was extremely hot. As soon as they had got their suitcases from the car, they stripped and swam naked in the pool. Afterwards, wrapping Chela in one of the big bath sheets, Adam carried her into the bedroom, then, laughing with joy, they made love on the huge bed.
The eight days that followed were undiluted bliss for them. There were no telephone calls or post to distract them. On most days they never left the villa, but on one occasion they drove in to have a look round the town and lunched in the garden of the Hilton, after having drinks at the great, circular, thatched bar which stands in the middle of the huge swimming pool. On another day they had cocktails on the seaside terrace of the El Presidente, with its tropical trees and the rocks below them lit wi
th red floodlights. Afterwards they dined at La Perla, on the north side of the peninsula that separates the two bays. The restaurant there is built out in a series of semi-circular terraces, suspended one hundred and thirty feet above a cove only fifteen feet wide, bordered by treacherous rocks. For the entertainment of visitors, courageous young Mexicans dive from one side of the chasm, nearly one hundred and fifty feet into the wildly-foaming sea below.
While Adam was applauding this audacious feat, Chela stubbed out her cigar and said angrily, ‘Just think of it! Those young men risk their lives every night for a mere pittance, when they should have land enough to live out their lives in prosperity and safety.’
Her bitter comment brought Adam sharply back from the halcyon existence he was enjoying, to the fact that he had pledged himself to play a leading role in a most dangerous undertaking, and that in a few days’ time he might have to face the awful situation that, greatly as he loved Chela, it was his duty to betray her.
Those last few days sped by more swiftly than a few hours spent on uncongenial tasks and, all too soon, their glorious honeymoon was over. On the evening of the second Friday after their arrival, Chela broke it to Adam that they must leave on the following morning to go down to Yucatán; but beyond that she could tell him nothing, as not until they got there would she receive further instructions. After a last hectic night in the little villa they reluctantly drove back to Mexico City. On the way they stopped for an hour to look round Textla, then lunched at Taxco, so it was not until half past five that Chela put Adam down at the El Presidente. As she did so, she said:
‘You won’t have any too long to rearrange your packing, because I put off leaving Acapulco until the last possible moment, and we have to fly down to Mérida on the seven-thirty plane. Take only your lightest things, darling, because it will be very hot down there. I’ll call for you in a taxi in an hour.’
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