Unholy Crusade

by Dennis Wheatley

  On the following afternoon, feeling considerably easier in his mind than he had been during his first day as Alberuque’s guest, Adam was sitting in the library reading an early edition of Bernal Diaz’s famous True History of the Conquest of New Spain when the dumb lay brother came in and handed him a small sheet of paper on which was written: ‘The Señorita Enriquez will arrive at the garden gate to visit you at four o’clock.’

  Adam’s first reaction was delight, but it was swiftly followed by uneasiness. It was over ten days since he had seen Chela and they had parted on far from happy terms. The night after his rescue from the police by Father Suaréz, he had declared to her that nothing would induce him to lend himself further to Don Alberuque’s plans and that had resulted in their having a furious row. The following morning she had come to him submissively and begged him to talk things over, but they had never done so, because she had gone off to Mérida to buy a hacksaw with which to cut off his handcuffs and before she returned he had again been arrested.

  The question was, what front should he present to her now? That she had agreed to come to see him at all implied that she still cared for him and he knew that he was still in love with her. But Alberuque would have informed her of the present situation—that, under duress, he had again consented to play. To tell her that he did not mean to, let alone that if he got half a chance he intended to bust the whole movement wide open, was out of the question: yet the idea of pretending that he was now reconciled to appear again as Quetzalcoatl, and so win her confidence by deception, was most repugnant to him.

  After some thought, he decided that he must compromise with his conscience. She could hardly expect him to approve the massacre at the prison or to be happy at having been coerced by Alberuque into doing as the Monsignor wished. But he could pretend resignation to force majeure, and it was clearly his duty to get what he could out of her.

  Well before four o’clock he was out, pacing up and down the broad open space of the garden that lay in front of the big barn, keeping an anxious eye on the gate. True to Mexican form, it was not until nearly half past that one of the Indians who had been posted on the gate let Chela in.

  Halting abruptly in his pacing, Adam turned and strode towards her. She was dressed in a coat and skirt of scarlet Thai silk and had an absurd hat perched on her black hair. She looked more lovely than ever. Displaying her even, white teeth in a ravishing smile, she ignored the guard and cried:

  ‘Oh, darling! How lovely to see you.’

  At the very sight of her, Adam’s heart had begun to beat faster. His eyes drank in her superb figure and the grace with which she moved. All the emotions she had previously aroused in him again came to the surface. Seizing both her outstretched hands in his, he said:

  ‘I can hardly believe that I’m not dreaming. There have been times when I feared I’d never see you again.’

  ‘I know.’ She shook her head. ‘I’ve been worried out of my wits about you. I can’t tell you how delighted I was when Don Alberuque telephoned me to say that you were free and are at one with us again. Naturally, you were upset about things going wrong at Uxmal, but I felt certain that when you had had a chance to think matters over you wouldn’t let me down.’

  So, Adam thought, Alberuque has not put her fully in the picture. She believes that I have come round and am now willing to play their game out for them. Aloud, he said, ‘Don Alberuque has been most kind, particularly in agreeing that you should be allowed to come to see me in this monastic haunt.’

  She made a wry face. ‘It’s a world apart from our villa at Acapulco, isn’t it? And I’m forbidden the house. Still, surely there must be some place where we could … well, talk in private?’

  He glanced over his shoulder. ‘There’s the barn. In it there is a helicopter; but unless the mechanic is working on the engine, no-one is likely to be there.’

  ‘Let’s explore it, then.’ She took his hand and they walked over to the barn. As he had expected, it was deserted. Without his aid she ran up the ladder to the open loft where the bales of hay were stacked. He followed, wrenched the bands from one of the bales and spread out the hay to make a couch for them. Picking her up in his arms, he gave her a long kiss on the mouth, then lowered her to the hay. She pulled him down beside her, twined her fingers in his hair, and whispered:

  ‘Darling, I’ve wanted you so terribly.’

  ‘And I you. It seems an age since we last made love.’

  He had one arm round her and was leaning over looking down into her dark, limpid eyes. She closed one of them in a wicked wink. ‘I prefer a bed, but there could be worse places than this.’

  ‘Some people refer to it as a “roll in the hay”,’ he laughed. ‘Come on, let’s.’

  Her slim fingers were already at her waist, undoing her skirt. Wriggling out of it, she spread it beneath her. Eagerly he bared her breasts and kissed one of them. For a few minutes they dallied, exciting each other to a fervour, then she threw back her head and pulled him more closely to her.

  Suddenly she gave a little cry, ‘No! Stop! You’re hurting me.’

  Raising himself, he looked down at her in surprise. ‘But … but it never has before.’

  ‘No, darling. Not there. It’s something hard under your left arm. It was digging into my breast.’

  In his excitement he had forgotten the small automatic strapped under his left armpit. Quickly he unbuttoned the strap of the holster and pulled it out.

  As she saw the weapon her eyes widened and she said, ‘So you are carrying a gun. Where did you get it?’

  ‘I …’ He hesitated a moment, then inspiration came to him and he lied. ‘During that ghastly battle at the prison. There was a dead detective lying in the corridor with his coat open. When I spotted it I thought it might be useful in getting away, so I took it from him.’

  She nodded. ‘I see. Yes. What a terrible business that was. Just as at Uxmal, everything went wrong. Don Alberuque told me. His men were only supposed to hold the Governor of the prison up at pistol-point and force him to release you. But someone lost his head. I was horrified, because it is such a blot on our movement.’

  Adam did not doubt for one moment that she was telling what she believed to be the truth. To learn that Alberuque had not made her a party to the deliberate massacre and the murder of the warder as a means of blackmailing him, was a great relief. Kissing her again, he said:

  ‘My sweet, the whole affair was utterly horrible. But there is nothing we can do about it now.’

  Adam had laid aside his gun. The discovery of it had temporarily poured cold water on their passion, but they were still eager for each other. Thrusting from their minds the thought of that night of blood, they renewed their caresses and five minutes later were locked in the divine embrace.

  When it was over they lay silent for a while, Chela’s dark head on Adam’s broad chest. Yet he was far from experiencing the utter contentment which had submerged him in a swoon of happiness on the other occasions after he had possessed her. One tormenting thought nagged at him persistently. Slave as he was to the allure of her cameo-like features, her voice, her laughter and her glorious, dark-golden body, he could no longer believe that, for all her apparent purity, she was not the servant of evil. Even if it meant an end to everything between them, he felt that he must challenge her and force her to admit it, as the first step to saving her from the satanic influence under which she had fallen.

  At length, raising himself on one elbow, he looked down into her lovely, sun-tanned face and said, ‘Chela, my love. You know who Alberuque really is, don’t you?’

  Her big eyes widened and she murmured, ‘Who he really is? Whatever do you mean?’

  ‘Why, that he is Itzechuatl in a new incarnation.’

  ‘Itzechuatl! I don’t understand. I’ve never heard of him.’ She yawned and looked away, turning her head sideways.

  At her denial, Adam’s temper frayed. Taking her by the shoulders, he shook her. ‘Don’t lie to me! You can’t ha
ve forgotten that day when, as Mirolitlit, you enabled me to escape from him. He was the evil High Priest who was set on tearing out my heart.’

  His rough handling of her had roused her from her somnolent indifference. Now, staring up at him with mouth agape, she gasped, ‘Yes, I remember now. That was the High Priest’s name. But, darling, I’m sure you must be mistaken. Anyhow, I wouldn’t have recognised him as I did you. I saw the High Priest only that one time on the terrace of the Palace, and then his face was smothered in paint.’

  ‘It’s not his physical appearance but his personality that comes through. Surely you must have sensed it?’

  ‘No. I swear I haven’t. And I know Don Alberuque so well. You must be wrong. I’m certain you are.’

  ‘I’m certain I’m not,’ Adam retorted stubbornly. ‘And he is still living in the past. That is the key to this movement in which you have involved yourself. There is nothing Christian about it. His status as a Monsignor is a cloak which enables him to influence others and foster his evil designs. His real intention is to re-establish the old religion and rule Mexico again as High Priest.’

  Pushing Adam from her, Chela sat up. ‘You are wrong, darling! Absolutely wrong! He is a saint and has only the betterment of our poor down-trodden Indians at heart.’

  Sadly Adam realised that it was useless to argue further with her. But the faith she displayed in Alberuque’s innocence held such conviction that he could not doubt her honesty; so at least he was able to console himself with the thought that she had not consciously become the tool of evil.

  With a sigh, he said, ‘Beloved, since neither of us believes the other, we had better drop the subject. But time will show. And of one thing I am positive. Alberuque is still my enemy. He has not forgotten that, in our previous lives, I cheated him of a Man-God as a sacrificial victim, and if he can he means to get me now. But forewarned is forearmed. I mean to watch him like a lynx. If he or his people lift a finger against me, I’ll kill him without the slightest scruple.’

  ‘Adam!’ Chela gave a gasp of horror. ‘What are you saying? How could you even think of such a thing?’ Her glance fell on the pistol lying in the hay beside him. ‘You … you can’t really mean that you’d shoot him?’

  He shrugged. ‘God knows I’m not a violent type. I’d hate having to kill anybody. I would, though, if it were to save my own life.’

  ‘But think! Just think! In all innocence he might say or do something that you took to be a threat, then … then, suspicious and trigger-happy as you are, you might shoot him before realising your mistake. And he is a priest. Even if you are right about his being a reincarnation of Itzechuatl, in this life he is the Lord’s Anointed. To kill him would be the most terrible crime. Whatever happens, I implore you to put any such idea out of your mind.’

  Taking her hand, he patted it and gave her a pale smile. ‘Don’t worry, my sweet. I promise you I won’t act rashly, and we’ll pray that it never comes to a showdown between him and me.’

  For a long time she was silent, then she said, ‘Feeling about him as you do, I am surprised that you have again agreed to co-operate with him.’

  Instantly Adam was on his guard. He loathed having to deceive her, but had no option. After a moment, he said, ‘That is different. As you know, at first I was reluctant to play; but you persuaded me that if the revolution succeeded, as the Man-God I could control our people, and prevent excesses like that which took place at the prison. I still feel that it is my duty to take a chance on being able to do that.’

  ‘But what about your enmity to Don Alberuque?’

  ‘You may prove right, after all; that in this life he is a reformed character. If so, I’ll co-operate. If not, I’ll hope to overcome him. But this waiting about is getting on my nerves. All I want now is to get on with the job. Do you know when the big day is to be?’

  She shook her head. ‘No; but it won’t be long now. Within two or three days at most.’ As Chela spoke, she looked at her wrist watch, then exclaimed, ‘How the time has flown! It’s nearly six. I must be going.’

  He took her in his arms again. After prolonged kissing they stood up. She put on her skirt and he brushed the pieces of hay from it. As they left the barn, she promised to come again the following afternoon. Then he accompanied her to the garden gate and, once more enthralled by the grace of her tall figure, watched her walk through the gate to her car.

  When she had gone he returned to the barn, took the radio cigarette case from his pocket and, judging it by then to be 1800 hours, tapped out Hunterscombe’s call sign every few minutes. For a while there was no response, then he got through and sent a brief message that the party was scheduled to take place not more than three days hence. The Wing Commander sent back, ‘Good for you. Keep in touch and don’t act without me.’

  That evening Adam spent a long time thinking over his conversation with Chela about Alberuque, and wondering if she could possibly be right in her belief that he was now an honest fanatic whose only ambition was to better the lot of the Indians and coloureds: but he could not accept it. His every instinct cried aloud that the intriguing priest had long since sold his soul to Satan and was an active embodiment of malefic forces.

  The following afternoon found him eagerly awaiting Chela’s promised visit. As soon as she arrived, they went to the barn. Not long after they had settled themselves, they enjoyed another ‘roll in the hay’ then, still embraced, talked for over an hour. But both of them avoided bringing up the name of Don Alberuque and they had no serious conversation about the ‘movement’.

  Shortly before leaving him, Chela said that she would not be able to come the next day because she had to attend a committee meeting at the Ministry of Education. When she had gone, he pondered on that; for it struck him as strange that, with the great crisis in their lives now imminent—after which it was possible they might never meet again—she should not have made some excuse to get out of her committee meeting so that she could spend another hour or two with him. Uneasily, he wondered if the committee was a myth and that in fact she had some special preparations to make before the ceremony which was to trigger off the revolution.

  If his guess was right, it meant that the balloon was due to go up the following night. Soon after six o’clock he radioed Hunterscombe and told him of his suspicions. The Wing Commander tapped back, ‘Will be listening in from 1500 hours till 2400 hours tomorrow.’

  The next morning passed uneventfully. In the afternoon Adam went to the barn and had a look at the helicopter, with the idea of seeing if he could sabotage it. But he knew nothing about engines so, short of actually smashing it with a hammer, there was no way in which he could put it out of action. Smashing it would certainly be attributed to him, and would thereby warn Alberuque of his secret intention to rebel at the last moment. So he decided to leave it and, instead, went up the ladder and lay down in the hay where he and Chela had taken their joy of each other.

  He thought of her with longing, then dropped off into a doze. Some while later he was roused by voices below, near the helicopter. Peering cautiously over, he saw that two mechanics were working on the machine. Now much relieved that he had not monkeyed with it, he listened intently to their conversation.

  One of them had a grouse and, between technical exchanges with his companion about the engine, was grumbling that he would not be able to keep a date with a girl who he had good hopes would let him have his way with her that night. Presently the man said:

  ‘If only the old bastard would have stayed put till midnight, I could have made it; but take-off at ten o’clock means I’ll have to stand little Inez up and the odds are she’ll be so furious that she’ll not give me another chance.’

  So this was ‘it’, and take-off was timed for ten o’clock. Impatiently Adam waited until the two mechanics had finished work on the helicopter and had left the barn. Then he got through to Hunterscombe.

  ‘Good show,’ the Wing Commander tapped back. ‘Any idea where the ’copter will be heading
for?’

  Adam replied, ‘No, and unlikely I can find out.’

  The response was: ‘Can’t be far. Keep your pecker up. I’ll be seeing you.’

  As soon as he had eaten his meagre supper that evening, Adam went up to bed. As tonight was the night, he knew that he might need every ounce of strength that he could muster; so even an hour or two lying dozing would be all to the good.

  For a long time, or so it seemed to him, he lay there in the dark, thinking of Chela; wondering whether somehow they would both come through this awful business and, if they did, he could persuade her to forgo a Mexican millionaire as a husband and marry him.

  Then, as he had felt almost certain would be the case, the dumb lay brother came in carrying a lamp and made signs to him that he should dress and come downstairs.

  He took his time about dressing and had so arranged his clothes that, by keeping his back to the skull-headed mute, he could strap on his shoulder holster without it being seen. He had no fear that Alberuque would attempt to kill him until after he had played his part in the ceremony as Quetzalcoatl, unless he refused to do so at the last minute. But he felt certain that there would be a showdown later, and the feel of the pistol under his armpit was a great comfort. Priest or no priest, Adam meant to get in first and send him to hell where he belonged.

  Downstairs in the library, he found Alberuque waiting for him, sitting as before, smugly behind the big desk. But what Adam had not expected was to find two Indian hoodlums in the room posted on either side of the door.

  As he came into the room Alberuque greeted him politely:

  ‘Señor Gordon, or should I anticipate by a few hours and address you as Most Exalted One, Essence on Earth of the Supreme Powers, Lord Quetzalcoatl. Tonight is the night of your Elevation. Shortly we shall proceed to the place of the ceremony, where you will be hailed as the representative of the true gods and the restorer of the ancient religion. But first there are two small matters which must be attended to. I have here a paper that I wish you to read.’