Halls of Montezuma

by Tony Roberts

  So now he knew who the Brotherhood spy was.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Spring gave way to summer. Case found most of the McGuire family distant and very formal towards him. He didn’t mind too much, at least it served to keep Ann from becoming besotted. She began seeing Sean Brady more frequently, and Mary didn’t make such a fuss, so perhaps Case’s outburst towards her had done some good.

  Elizabeth stayed well clear of him; she’d been a little frightened by him shouting, and she rarely ventured far from her mother’s skirts anyway. Bridget was not so shy however; she often came to him and told him things she shouldn’t about the rest of the family, and some things she was told by Michael O’Driscoll. It seemed the growing Bridget and the pleasant O’Driscoll boy were getting along famously.

  As for Patrick, he took to Case like he was a father figure. Maybe it was what the young boy wanted, having lost his own father at such an early stage. To Case it was perfect; he taught Patrick what he could and made sure he was given the right instruction on things; not only how to mend fences or wrangle rebellious pigs. Life, lessons on the realities of things were just as important. He told the teenage boy that soon he’d be an adult and as such would have to take responsibilities that came with that in regard to his sisters.

  Patrick listened attentively. He seemed to take everything in keenly, and at times Case’s memories were stirred by another such keen learner he’d come across many centuries back; a young Mongol called Temujin had absorbed things like a sponge and had used that knowledge later in his years to carve out a great empire when he was known as Genghis Khan. Not that Patrick would go and do such things of course. The world was a different place now. Countries banded together to stop someone getting too big for their boots and threatening the balance of power. And then of course there were those who belonged to the power club in the world. Currently this exclusive club consisted of Britain, France, Russia, Austria and the newcomer, Prussia. They carved up the map of Europe as they saw fit; some of them set up colonies in the other parts of the world and ran those in a similar fashion; and they picked on the weaker nations and took what they wanted from them, whether it be land, materials or minerals.

  The Americas were still finding their feet, free of European interference at last. Canada still followed Britain’s lead, but the United States had thrown off British rule and was finding its way, enjoying its freedom and wondering where it could go now. South and Central America was free of Portuguese and Spanish rule and the new republics there were squabbling over the land they had each inherited as a result. Mexico had inherited an enormous amount of territory but Case wondered if they had the muscle to hold onto it. Much if their northern territories were sparsely populated and it was easy for American settlers to sneak in and set up home there, much the same way they had in Texas. Then it had been only a matter of time before the population, mostly non-Spanish, decided they would rather go their own way rather than be ruled from Mexico City.

  It had only been eight years ago that the crunch came; Texas refused to toe the autocratic rule of General Santa Anna, and so the dictator had sent an army into the rebellious province to crush all opposition. The Mexican army had annihilated the first opposition at the Alamo, killing all the defenders including the few who had surrendered.

  Texas had retaliated by declaring independence and a few weeks later the Texan army had smashed Santa Anna’s at the San Jacinto and forced the captive dictator to sign a peace treaty which recognized Texan independence. The trouble was the Mexican government refused to accept it and sent Santa Anna into exile and maintained Texas was still their territory. However, without the military means to enforce it, this meant little.

  Border skirmishes continued. Occasionally the Mexicans raided Texas, took prisoners and sent them to the infamous Perote prison. Public opinion in the States firmly sided with Texas and there was a growing feeling that it was a matter of time before the States would annex the young republic. Santa Anna had returned from exile recently, thanks to popular opinion in Mexico, and had immediately severed trade links between California and St. Louis, hitting business in the latter very hard, adding to the tension.

  It was, Case figured, only a matter of time before hostilities broke out. He was curious to see what had happened to Mexico in the centuries since he’d last been there, when Cortes had taken the Aztec capital. Case had been disgusted at the human sacrifices practiced by the natives and had sided with Cortes on that occasion. Since then he’d not been back. Maybe it was time.

  It was mid-summer when Mary called him into the kitchen. Case was surprised. Mary rarely spoke to him and Case had taken up to eating in his room so not to cause a bad atmosphere at the dining table. So for her to call him was unusual. He followed a cheekily smiling Bridget into the house and removed his floppy hat.

  Mary was stood by the table, her long double-buttoned dress reaching down to her feet, her hair tied back severely. Her expression was no less severe. “I have had a letter,” she said by way of greeting, holding up a sheet of paper. “From some solicitor acting on behalf of the church in Lynchburg.”

  Case stopped on the other side of the table. This didn’t auger well; he had a dislike of lawyers, and one acting on behalf of Schofield couldn’t mean any good, that was certain. “What does it say?”

  “Read it,” Mary said curtly and thrust the sheet at Case. He took it reluctantly and began reading.

  ‘Dear Mrs. McGuire’ it began, ‘I have the honour to represent the interests of the Catholic Church in Lynchburg.’ Case noted the British version of spelling. A mistake on the side of the writer; if he was an American lawyer it would have been spelt differently. Therefore it was a recently arrived man from Britain. If a genuine lawyer was representing the Lynchburg church it would have been an established one in town. So it was bogus. ‘Recent land deeds have come to light which unfortunately appear to cover the land in which you have recently settled. I have spoken to Father Schofield who is the parish priest of the Catholic Church of St. Peter’s in Lynchburg and he has confirmed that the land was purchased by the church some twenty-four years ago from the estate of the late John Lynch. However, the Lynch Estate solicitors have yesterday forwarded to me copies of sworn affidavits pertaining to the plot of land. They did not belong to the late John Lynch but to the Thomas Jefferson estate who purchased the land while John Lynch was still alive.’ Case frowned at the letter. It was too convenient. ‘I would be grateful if you or your representative could visit my office on Main Street at the earliest opportunity. I remain your obedient servant, C.J.M.Stavely, Solicitor at Law.’

  “Who delivered this?” Case threw the paper onto the tabletop.

  “A young man working on the Burke farm, a Jim Lorrimer. He’s in the sitting room talking to Bridget. This is terrible news.”

  Case looked through the open doorway to the passage that led to the front of the farmhouse and the sitting room. Voices could be heard faintly. “I doubt it’s genuine, Mrs. McGuire.”

  “What d’ye mean, ‘doubt it’s genuine’? It’s signed by a lawyer!” Mary picked up the paper and waved it around.

  “You take it as fact merely because it’s signed by someone stating they’re a lawyer. I’m willing to bet it’s a load of garbage. What about the O’Driscolls? They say they bought this land and loaned it to you. Have you asked them? Do that. Meanwhile I’ll go into this lawyer’s office tomorrow and get it all sorted out.”

  “Well, Mr. Lonnergan, ye’re all high and mighty promising this, are ye not? What if ye’re wrong?”

  Case shook his head emphatically. “Trust me, I know it’s fake. I’m willing to bet that this C.J.M. Stavely isn’t even practicing in Lynchburg. He’s a rogue, a fraud. He’s trying to scare us off this land for some odd reason. I’ll sort it out tomorrow. First, I’ll speak to this Jim Lorrimer.” He walked out of the kitchen, leaving a worried Mary holding the letter and entered the sitting room. Lorrimer was a sandy haired individual of about twenty or so, thin, of a
verage height and sported a white crumpled shirt and brown trousers held up by a pair of bracers. He looked up and saw Case standing in the entrance and his face tightened momentarily. It was only there briefly before Lorrimer’s face relaxed but Case had seen it and it confirmed what he already knew.

  “Who gave you that letter, Jim?” Case said, keeping the loathing he felt out of his voice.

  “Oh, I was in town and Father Schofield passed it to me when I went to church. He knew I would be passing by on my way back home.” His voice was light and soft and spoken without any feeling. Case doubted he had any.

  “I see. Well, I’m going to have to go to see Father Schofield tomorrow about this. Thanks for delivering it.”

  “No problem,” Lorrimer smiled. “Well, I gotta be going, things to do at the farm, you know.”

  “Sure,” Case stood aside as Lorrimer brushed past. Bridget bounced after him and let him out. Case heard a couple of words being spoken, Bridget’s giggle, then the door shut. Case went up the stairs and into Ann’s bedroom which was at the front of the house, and watched Lorrimer ride away on his horse. At the end of the drive, instead of turning right to the Burke farmstead, he turned left. Case nodded slowly and turned round.

  “Ye were wanting something?” Ann’s icy voice stopped him. She was standing in the doorway.

  “All sorted out, Miss Ann,” Case said and made to leave the room. Ann stood in his way. Case looked at her in mild surprise. “Yes Miss Ann?”

  “Why do ye hate me so? Ye hardly seem to want to share the same air as me these days.”

  “I don’t hate you Ann. I’m sorry that things have come between us but one day perhaps you’ll come to realize that it was the best thing that could happen.”

  Ann breathed in deeply. This stubborn man! “Ye hurt me and still are hurting me. Can’t ye put yer silly fears aside and love me?”

  “What, and have Sean Brady challenge me to a duel to the death? I’m too chicken for that. Besides, I’ve got other things on my mind at the moment.”

  Ann almost stamped her foot in frustration. “Very well, have it yer way. I’ll not bother you again about this – silly – notion of love. Ye could have had me, but now I’ll choose another.”

  “Wise decision, Miss Ann. I’d love to stop and chat but I’ve things to do and things to arrange. See you later at dinner?”

  “Agh, ye’re impossible, man. I’d take a stick to ye but I doubt ye’d notice, ye’re that thick skinned.”

  “I might enjoy that,” Case said and left hurriedly, followed by a gasp from the young woman. He went out to the kitchen and stopped by the table. Mary and Elizabeth were there, the mother still grave of face. Elizabeth clutched her mother’s skirt and watched Case warily.

  “Mrs. McGuire, I’m going into town tomorrow. I’ll sort this mess out, don’t worry. I think once I see this Stavely guy you’ll have no more fears about being thrown off this farm.”

  “If ye do manage it we’ll be in yer debt, Mr. Lonnergan.”

  “Again,” Case grinned.

  Mary looked at him for a moment, then seemed to crumple. Case rushed round and took hold of her and held her close. Mary sobbed and gripped Case’s clothing. Elizabeth became distressed, clawing at her mother’s skirt, and Mary reached out and held her youngest daughter tight. The sobs ceased after a few minutes and Mary straightened, wiping her eyes. “Oh what a daft thing to do, cry like that!” she admonished herself.

  “You’ve been through a lot this past couple of years,” Case said, eyeing a large wet patch on his cotton shirt. “Nothing to be ashamed of, you know.”

  Mary hugged Elizabeth and smiled at her. “Ah, I just needed that. I think I owe you an apology, Mr. Lonnergan. I don’t go round apologizing often to men, ye understand?”

  Case nodded. “I think I was a little strong with you that time too. Sorry about that.”

  “Oh, maybe ye were right, in part anyway. But Ann’s my daughter and it’s my job to make sure she’s protected.”

  “I know. But sometimes it’s best to give them a bit of freedom. They have to grow up some day, and she’s eighteen now. Old enough to marry.”

  Mary sat down and chased off Elizabeth, telling her to help Bridget to feed the chickens. “I know she is, and I feared she was set on ye, which I’d never allow.”

  “I stopped that,” Case sat down also. “I’m not the right one for her.”

  “That’s what I told her. She wouldn’t listen, just as stubborn as her father!”

  Case grinned. “You miss him?”

  Mary looked outraged. “What? That good fer nothing wastrel! The drink took him and it was better he was away. When he was home he was no good for anything. Drank what money we had. Stupid man got into a drunken argument one evening and the Peelers found him in the gutter the next morning. Dead.”

  “Ah,” Case looked at his hands on the tabletop. “I bet he left debts.”

  “Didn’t he just! Ruined us so he did. Had to sell the house. With what was left I decided to start anew in America. This is all we have and I don’t want to lose it.”

  “Well, Mary McGuire, you won’t. Leave it to me. Umm… I need to ask a favor.”

  “Oh?”

  “Yes. Could you please do a bit of sewing to my clothing? I find I need to do a lot of repairs to the fencing and what have you out there and it’d be nice to have some places I can carry some implements. Could you sew some loops in a few places to help?”

  Mary looked a little surprised, but agreed to. And Case told her where to make the changes which made her even more surprised. But Case needed them before going into the Lion’s Den that following morning.

  * * *

  Case hitched a lift with Michael O’Driscoll once more and bounced off the wagon as he passed the grocer’s on Main Street. He adjusted his colt so it was prominently displayed, and stopped the first passer-by he came across, asking for the solicitor’s office. Not surprisingly nobody knew of one on that street, and Case knew he’d need to go to the church to find what he was seeking.

  He nipped round the next street and decided to come upon the church from the rear, climbing over the back wall into the yard. He landed lightly on his feet and checked no-one was in view. Satisfied he was unseen, he went up to the back door of the church. It was unlocked and he pushed it open. Too easy.

  He drew out his pistol and cautiously made his way along the passage. The church was off to the right, the living quarters to the left. He turned left and found himself in a room that had a man sitting behind a table. A fireplace was in the left hand wall and shelves and cupboards stood to the right.

  “Good morning, Longinus,” the man said. “I have waited a long time to see your foul face. May you burn in hell for eternity.”

  Case’s face tightened. He pointed the gun at the man. “Mr. Stavely, I presume?” The man had a British accent.

  Stavely inclined his head. “Very accommodating of you to visit us here, but I suspected you would. Now, please, put that gun away, it’s really not needed.”

  “I’m not stupid enough to disarm myself in the nest of vipers,” Case snapped. “Now you bastard, what’s all this about a land contract?”

  Stavely intertwined his fingers. “Why, it’s a ruse, it was designed to bring you here. The McGuires will never leave that piece of land.”

  Case suddenly felt a chill run over him. He stepped forward, pistol pointing at Stavely’s right eye. “I didn’t like the way you put that.”

  Stavely smiled evilly. “Why do you think we wanted you here? So the McGuires were all on their own. Defenseless. Such a pity, burning down with their farm. Ah, the sadness of it all. Father Schofield will perform such a beautiful requiem for them all, won’t you, Schofield?”

  “Yeah,” Schofield’s voice was hardly recognizable. What was recognizable was the click of a gun being cocked. “Now, Longinus, put that damned gun down or I’ll blow a hole in your back.”

  Case turned his head slowly. Schofield was standing in the do
orway, Lorrimer next to him. Schofield was holding a single shot pistol, pointing right at Case from a distance of six feet. Both were grinning in triumph.

  “Well, Longinus, it seems you are ours to do with as we please. And you won’t be able to save that poor family from the fire.”

  Stavely’s words struck icy fear into Case’s heart. He was trapped.

  CHAPTER TEN

  They took Case’s gun, of course. Stavely examined it with interest. “Fairly new, better than your poor old thing,” he indicated Schofield’s pistol. “Have it. We must be up to date, mustn’t we?”

  “Why kill the McGuires?” Case growled angrily, “they pose no threat to you.”

  Stavely smiled. He stood up. “Because we can. They have also been in contact with you for a year. We fear you might have corrupted them in some way. Jim Lorrimer here says the eldest daughter has feelings for you. She must be purged from this, and fire is the only way that can be done.”

  “Some things never change,” Case spat. “You’re still as mad as ever, the whole crazy lot of you.”

  “Shut up,” Stavely snapped. “You will remain here for the rest of time until He comes again. We have a nice place that has been carved out beneath this church. That is your final resting place.”

  Case was pushed out of the room at gunpoint and into the church nave. There were two rows of columns holding the roof up and an altar at the far end. In the center of the floor ran a worn dark red carpet. Lorrimer and Schofield bent to pull it aside in the centre, revealing a slab with a small recess that could be used as a handhold. Even as Case watched, Lorrimer began pulling it up while Stavely covered Case. “If you try to move I’ll shoot you,” Stavely said evenly. “You’ll not die, we know that, but we know you suffer pain. That is a pleasant thought, is it not?”

  “Go drop dead you mad bastard,” Case snarled.

  The slab was raised to reveal a flight of stone steps leading down to a crypt. Lorrimer led the way, Case next, then the two gun-toting men. The floor was stone flagged, the walls also of stone. Columns again held up the ceiling. Candles fluttered in wall brackets along these columns. Alcoves lay along the two long walls and rudimentary wooden beds rested within these. At the far end, under the altar, there was an iron door with a grille inset at head height. Stavely waved at it. “Your quarters. Within are a few items of basic furniture. You will be fed and watered each day, but from now on you will not have any human contact. You can shout but noise cannot penetrate the ceiling; it is of thick stone. We made sure this crypt was virtually soundproofed. We have to hold our – ah – services in secret even to this day.”