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Chapter Twenty Three

"In a Box"

Diego returned to Los Angeles and reported in to the Magistrado. There was a bright spot in all of his worries, for Señor Santiago was quite pleased at the way Diego had handled the case for Señor Lozano.

"Well done, Diego, well done," said Santiago, as they sat in his office. "It was quite clever to have spotted that discrepancy in the number seven and the number nine on the contract. I take it both parties were satisfied?" Santiago had not really cared how the case was to be resolved when he had assigned it to Diego. It was just a ruse to manipulate the young don into going to Santa Barbara. He was mildly surprised at how well Diego had handled the case. It would seem the young man was indeed able to think well on his feet.

"Sí, Your Excellency," said Diego smiling. "Both parties were able to claim a profit when the transaction was completed rather than possibly taking a loss by selling their goods elsewhere."

"I am pleased," said Santiago, returning his smile. "You know Señor Lozano has become quite an important businessman in the district. It will be him and men like him who take the products which this land has to offer to trade with the mother country and her allies so that California will prosper. Maintaining good relations between the merchants and the shipping companies is vital to that effort. Your work has maintained that relationship."

"Graciás, Your Excellency," said Diego. He was warmed by Santiago’s words. For a moment, the false Zorro and his problems faded into the background. Here was something he had been able to accomplish as Diego de la Vega and he was proud of it. He only wished he could tell his father of his work. He longed to have Don Alejandro say "Well done," just as Santiago had. "I wish my father . . .," he began, then stopped himself.

"Wish what, Diego?" Santiago inquired.

Somewhat embarrassed, Diego said, "It was nothing, Your Excellency."

Santiago looked at him for a moment, and then said, "Ah, I see. You would like for your father to know of your accomplishment. You would like to have his approval as well?" Diego did not answer, but Santiago could see the hunger in the young man’s eyes. "I wish that I could help you Diego, but as I have told you before, our work is confidential and you must respect this."

"Oh, I do, Your Excellency," Diego said, earnestly. "You may rely on me completely."

"I know that, my young assistant. You have proved your discretion many times," said Santiago, with a smile. "But I do understand your desires. It is only natural. Have patience. Your father will come to know just what kind of son he has with the passage of time." Santiago was rather enjoying the wry, double meaning of his words. Yes, old Alejandro would soon come to know just what kind of son he had. A low and traitorous conspirator. Santiago’s smile widened.

Diego returned the smile though he was still disappointed that he could not talk of his work with his father. He still wanted to earn his father’s respect. Well, that would come in time, just as the Magistrado said it would, Diego promised himself. For now, he would just enjoy the complete confidence of the Magistrado. He was also proud of the part he was playing in the larger picture of California’s future. He shared the Magistrado’s vision of a prosperous California. For now, this would have to be enough.

In the following days, Santiago did not give Diego any further field assignments. Instead, he kept Diego in Los Angeles where they spent most of their time covering the law concerning the succession of land grants from the King, which interested Diego greatly considering that the de la Vega land was a product of just such a grant. Santiago too, was very interested in the land grants, seeing as how he would someday control all of the land hereabouts. It was well to know as much as possible about the legal owners of the land when the time came to buy it from them as they fled in terror before the armies of Zorro. He had to suppress a smile from time to time as he thought upon the subject. He did not want Diego to wonder at seeing him smile, not that he couldn’t handle the younger man. As he looked at Diego, he still saw a young man eager to learn and do well in the job which he had been given. Diego would go where Santiago wished him to go and perform those tasks which were set before him. He did respect the young man’s intellect, however naive it might appear, and so remained quite careful when he was with him.

However, Santiago failed to see the worry in the back of Diego’s eyes which the raids of the false Zorro were causing. He saw only what Diego wanted him to see. This was, in part, due to the effort Diego made to not let that knowledge come between him and his job. He tried to suppress all thoughts about the false Zorro when he was on official business for the Magistrado and especially when he was around Santiago for any length of time. But at night, when he was alone with Bernardo, or when he was truly alone in his room, he could think of almost nothing else. Bernardo had remarked how the lines around Diego’s eyes were returning as his young master was losing sleep over the problem. Diego acknowledge the problem with a shrug. There did not seem to be anything he could do about it. As long as the imposter remained in the vicinity of Santa Barbara, riding out in the night to search for him was out of the question. It was just too far to ride there and back in one night. He must be present at the Magistrado’s office bright and early each morning, and there was just not enough time to search for the imposter in the night hours. That did not keep Diego from burning with the desire to go, however.

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One day passed, then another, and Santiago knew Uresti would be moving into the Los Angeles area if he kept to the schedule. Reports of Zorro being sighted here and there should begin to trickle in soon. Santiago could almost taste victory now. But the most exciting part of the plan was yet to come: the trial which would convict Diego de la Vega as a traitor, the results of which would then be the catalyst to prize the de la Vega lands from the fingers of the old don. Santiago almost had all the points of the trial catalogued even now. But he schooled himself to patience. Haste was the refuge of the fool and he was not a fool.

The first report came to Santiago when he and Diego were eating lunch at the tavern. Sergeant Garcia burst into the tavern and headed straight for the Magistrado’s table. He snapped to attention and saluted, holding the pose as he waited to be acknowledged. Diego noted that the Sergeant’s jacket was not straining nearly so hard to cover the larger man’s girth. As a matter of fact, there was a decided amount of room in that jacket. He smiled.

"Yes, Sergeant?" said Santiago.

"Your pardon, Excellency, but I beg to report that Zorro was seen by several Indians at the San Gabriel mission," said Garcia with excitement. Everyone in the tavern stopped what they were doing to listen. Despite his control, Diego’s heart began to race. He did not let his consternation reach his face, however.

"Zorro?" said Santiago. "When was this, Sergeant?"

"Just this morning. Not more than an hour ago. They saw him riding along the hills east of the mission," said Garcia.

"Was anyone else with him?"

"They did not say there was anyone else, Your Excellency." Garcia paused. "Does Your Excellency wish a patrol to be sent to search for Zorro?" he asked.

"At once, Sergeant. You will search all the countryside around the mission for any sign of Zorro," Santiago ordered. "If you find him, you will send one lancer back to the cuartel to alert the rest of the soldiers and then you will pursue him. With the additional lancers from the cuartel joining you, you should soon capture him."

Garcia’s face lit up. "Sí, Your Excellency. We will go at once." Saluting once again, Garcia turned on his heel and headed out the door.

Santiago turned back to Diego. "So, the elusive Fox has returned to Los Angeles," he said as he picked up his wine glass. "Capitán Hidalgo must have been getting too close to him in Santa Barbara, causing him to move here. What do you think, Diego?"

Diego leaned forward a bit. "I do not know, Your Excellency, but I certainly hope the Sergeant has the opportunity to capture the man." If Garcia was indeed fortunate enough to capture the impostor, the raids and the robberies would stop, thought Diego. This would leave him with only the prickly problem of redeeming Zorro’s reputation. He was sure he would be able to find a way to show that the man wearing the mask was not the real Zorro. They would find out who he was and where he came from. Then it would be seen that he could not possibly be the same man as the real Zorro. But how do you redeem the reputation of an outlaw, even one such as the real Zorro? He was brought up short in his thoughts by Santiago’s next words.

"Why, Diego, this is quite a departure from your previous stand which you made here in this very tavern not so long ago," said Santiago, enjoying Diego’s obvious discomfiture at his words. Tío was watching them from behind his bar as he wiped the counter. He had been present then as well. "I believe you said at the time that you would prefer that Zorro was never captured. Am I right?" He could see that Diego would rather not have been asked that question, but he was going to be compelled to answer. From the corner of his eye, Santiago noticed Tío nodding his head as he agreed with the Magistrado’s statements. Yes, the innkeeper remembered.

Diego was faced with a dilemma. He had never put forth the idea to the Magistrado that the man now known as Zorro was an imposter. To do so now could be dangerous. It might even be interpreted as a defense of the outlaw in some eyes. Santiago might start asking questions as to how he knew that this Zorro was an imposter. Questions he could not answer truthfully. And not being able to speak the truth to the Magistrado was almost as painful as not being able to speak the truth to his father. He very much admired Santiago as a man of honor and he wanted to maintain his own honor before his mentor. So he tried to walk the thin line of truth as closely as he dared. "Sí, Your Excellency, that is what I said. But that was before . . . ."

Santiago interrupted him. "That was before he started raiding innocent peons, eh? Before he started forming his armies? You see now just what kind of man he really is." Seeing the look on Diego’s face, he said, "I do not mean to be so hard on you Diego. But in order for me to do my job to the best of my abilities, I must keep a clear view of those I am sworn to apprehend when they are a danger to California and her people. Under my administration, ‘Justice will be served.’" This last was said with firmness and determination.

Diego’s heart ached. He was proud to serve with this man, a man after his own heart in the matters of justice. Santiago had won his loyalty with his steadfast pursuit of justice tempered with compassion. But just as there were things in his life that he could not tell his father, there were things he would have to withhold from the Magistrado, as painful as that might be. But surely he was clever enough to plant the seed. The seed that would grow into the idea that this Zorro was an imposter. Something that Santiago, being the intelligent man he was, would see for the truth? Diego thought furiously. Finally, he said, "I do not know who this man is who now wears the mask, Your Excellency. Señorita Justice does not call his name as she calls yours and mine. The man we previously observed here in this pueblo as Zorro had always had a higher purpose. He only wanted what was best for California."

"Come now, Diego. You speak as if there are two men called Zorro," said Santiago, picking up on Diego’s words as the young man knew he would. But his next comments did nothing to assure Diego that he would pursue that thought. "No, Diego. We will capture this outlaw and you will see what manner of man he is. I am sorry if you cannot continue to indulge your romantic notions about him. He is a danger to all California and he must be brought to justice and that swiftly."

Diego could not but agree with the Magistrado’s words as far as they went towards the character of this present, false Zorro. "Sí, Your Excellency," he said. Diego knew it was more imperative than ever that the imposter be found. Tonight, despite the danger, he would search for the imposter himself if Sergeant Garcia failed to capture him.

The afternoon drew to a close as Diego and Santiago worked on the weekly report for the governor in the Magistrado’s office. Their attention was drawn to the sound of horses in the plaza, and they went out onto the balcony to see who was there. It was Sergeant Garcia and his lancers. Their horses were spent. Santiago hailed them.

"Hola! Sergeant Garcia!" he called from the balcony.

Garcia pulled up and the lancers bunched behind him. The Sergeant looked up and said, "Sí, Magistrado?"

"What have you found?" asked Santiago.

"We have found dust and empty hills, Magistrado," returned Sergeant Garcia. "Zorro has vanished again. We searched all the hills around the mission and questioned everyone, but no one other than the Indians who made the first report have seen anything. They have seen nothing since this morning."

"Curious," muttered Santiago to himself as though he was thinking. Then, "All right, Sergeant. Take care of your men and horses. I will speak with you later."

"Sí, Magistrado," said Garcia, who then motioned for his men to follow him to the cuartel.

"Could the Indians have been mistaken?" Diego asked, when they had returned to Santiago’s office.

"I do not know, Diego," said Santiago. "But I intend to ride out with the patrol at the next report. I think the Sergeant needs help in tracking down this outlaw. Surely, he cannot be that hard to find if he is in the area."

Diego opened his mouth to say just how well Zorro could lose himself in the hills and thus avoid capture, when he closed it again. It seemed that any time he spoke of Zorro to the Magistrado, things did not come out the way he intended them. The Magistrado turned his words around and put him in corners he did not like. So he kept his silence. But this increased his frustration. He could not speak of Zorro with his own father, nor could he speak of Zorro with the Magistrado. He could not speak of Zorro, the real one or the imposter, to anyone but Bernardo. And Bernardo already knew his heart.

Index
Chapter Twenty Four