Chasing Pancho Villa (15 page)

“I'm impressed,” James told her.

“You like it?” she asked proudly. “My grandfather built this room. But, it was La Señora Estrella who collected the books,” Maria told him. “Do you believe that she read them all?”

“She must have been a well-educated woman,” he responded. But it was a map of Mexico that caught his eye. He noticed a line drawn from the New Mexico border almost to Mexico City with arrows in the Pacific Ocean pointing eastward, all marked in ink with dates and numbers. “And you, Maria? Do you read those books also?”

“Oh, Harry. When I was a child I came here often. Sometimes to read, other times just to sit in my grandfather's chair and think. Now, it is different. I come only to visit the past, and to dream of a better future.” She smiled at him, but her dark eyes betrayed her.

“Those moments are important,” Harrison said, putting his arm around her. It felt natural.

“Come!” she said, pushing him away playfully. “You must have a thirst. Tequila? It is our custom,” she said with a smile. She turned and left the room. Harrison followed her. They returned to the drawing room and the sofa.

A young woman entered with a tray of tequila. She appeared to be of Indian descent—short and squarely built, with dark eyes, dark skin, and black hair that she wore long. Her face held no expression. Maria took the decanter and two glasses, handing one to Harrison. “Harry, this is Luna. She is mama of the children you saw outside.” The young woman smiled shyly. “Her husband was killed last year. He rode with General Villa.”

“I'm pleased to meet you, señora,” he said, standing and bowing.

The young woman smiled again and left the room.

“There are many widows in Mexico.” Maria and Harrison watched the woman leave. “I do all that I can to help them,” she added gently. “That is also part of our business.”

“You have great responsibilities, Maria,” he replied.

“To your brother,” Maria toasted, holding the glass in the air. “A fine man.”

Harrison responded by touching his glass gently against hers. He recalled Lieutenant Floyd making a similar toast. But Maria was sincere.

“And to the Revolution!” Maria exclaimed, continuing her toast. “Tierra Y Libertad!”

“Viva la revolución!” he responded.

She smiled. “Now we eat. Then I tell you more about your brother. And you will tell me of your life in Paris, yes?”

Harrison smiled back. “Yes, Maria, we eat. Then we talk.”

“Come,” Maria said simply. Holding his hand lightly, she led him into another room adjoining the second. It was a spacious dining room. Again, it was decorated much like the other two, but this room had a huge stone fireplace that covered an entire wall. A fire burned brightly in its hearth. He felt its warmth.

Harrison noticed two place settings on the long, deep grained oak table. Maria set the bottle of tequila between them. She motioned with her hand. “Please sit beside me.”

He pulled out her chair.

“Ahh señor, you are a gallant caballero,” Maria said. She brushed against Harrison's shoulder with her breast as she sat down. The gesture did not go unnoticed.

“Luna,” Maria called, pouring each another tequila. The young woman returned carrying a tray. She served them while they quietly sipped their tequila, placing a bowl of soup and tortillas with chicken in front of them. Then Luna left them alone.

Harrison could not take his eyes from her. “How does one so beautiful survive in such a harsh world?” he finally asked.

“Do you like the food?” she teased, avoiding his question.

“Oh, yes,” he said, rolling a tortilla and dipping it lightly into the soup. Harrison had seen that done at the hotel. “But I don't have much of an appetite. You've taken it away.”

“Nor do I,” Maria said, and smiled at him. “Are you so charming among the women of Paris?”

“What do you know of my life in Paris?” he asked, surprised that she knew anything about him.

“Harry, I know much about you, the worldly older brother,” she said, touching his arm.

“I think Bart may have exaggerated,” Harrison said. He did not want her to know too much about his wasted life.

“Perhaps you're too modest,” she suggested.

“I don't think there's that much to talk about. I just run a business. Like you, Maria.”

“Oh, Harry, Bart told such wonderful stories of your adventures. He told me about your battles with banditos in Bolivia. You are lucky to be alive.”

Neither ate any more. Sipping at the tequila, Harrison quietly observed Maria. Her beauty continued to fascinate him. She, in turn, was content to glance at him, enjoying his attention. The time passed quickly.

Finally, Luna appeared. “Señorita?” she asked.

“We are finished, Luna. Gracias,” she said softly.

Luna cleared the table. Harrison did not notice.

“Maria, why have you brought me here?” Harrison asked finally.

She looked at him smiling but, Harrison noticed, hesitating.

“Yes?” He asked.

“First we must make a deal and shake on it,” Maria told him.

“We can do that,” he said, curious.

“I will tell you something. In return you will tell me something. Agreed?”

She extended her hand with a smile and a sparkle in her eyes.

“It's a deal,” Harrison responded, and gently grasped her hand.

“Harry, your brother was much more than an infantry officer. There were men, very dangerous men, he was working with. Mexicans and Americans. He paid them for information.”

“On smuggling weapons?”

“Sí that, but also for information on what the Germans are doing in Mexico.”

“German agents in Mexico?” Harrison felt almost a panic.

“Yes, the Germans were supporting General Villa then,” Maria told him. “Your Army wanted—needed—to know what they were doing in Mexico. It was confusing. The Germans first helped General Villa. And when the Americans invaded to catch him, they worked with General Carranza—El Presidente.”

“German spies,” Harrison said softly, remembering what Butcher had said in Monte Carlo. “Do you think one of them killed Bart?”

“That is possible. I know this because I helped him. I introduced him to different people, people he wanted to know.”

Harrison quietly considered her words. “Their names?” he asked finally.

“There were many people. I helped him contact a person in the home of the German Consul in Monterrey. A woman.”

“A Mexican woman?” Harrison asked.

“Yes,” she answered. “I told you. Things here are very complicated.”

“Could I meet this woman?”

“No, you cannot,” Maria said abruptly.

“Is it too dangerous?” he asked, watching for her reaction.

“She is dead. The Germans killed her.”

“They killed her? Because of Bart?”

“Yes,” Maria answered. “The Germans discovered what she was doing and they killed her. She gave Bart information, and they found out. Colonel Moltke, their military attaché, had her shot.”

“Was it very valuable information that she gave my brother?”

“I don't know, Harry, but that would not matter. The colonel is a butcher.”

Harrison sat, thinking. For a moment neither spoke.

“This woman…she was very brave to have done this,” Harrison finally said.

“She believed in Bart. That was the reason she helped him.”

“How did the Germans find out about her?”

“Oh, Harry, they were angry that the Americans stole this information. The colonel and General Carranza, they searched everywhere. Bart was in El Paso, out of their reach, but he could not save her.”

“You didn't answer my question, Maria. How did they find out?”

“They received information that she was their spy. I don't know how.”

“Was my brother operating some kind of spy ring in Mexico?” Harrison asked.

“No, Harry,” Maria said slowly. “I think Bart was a spy catcher. Yes, he tried to catch German spies.”

“Do you think the woman's spying for Bart might have something to do with his death? Revenge maybe?” Harrison asked.

“I think it is possible. Colonel Moltke is like ice. I know him. And the Germans punish everyone who will not help them,” Maria told him.

“Help them to do what?”

“Colonel Moltke is working in Mexico to help Germany win the war in Europe.”

“How do you know this colonel, Maria?” James asked.

She looked at him and felt his eyes on her. “I know him. We do business together. I also sell guns to the Mexican Army, as I told you.”

“I see,” Harrison said slowly.

She thought she could see accusations reflected in his blue eyes. “We sell arms. I do not concern myself with European politics. I have my own struggle here,” she told him.

“Who were the Americans supporting when Pershing invaded?” Harrison asked, trying to understand.

“The Americans invaded to chase General Villa,” Maria answered him. “At that time, General Carranza worked with your Army. But the Americans stayed too long in Mexico. General Carranza was afraid they would never leave. So, he asked the Germans to help him get the gringos out of the country. They talked of an alliance, I think.” She took a breath. “This information was of great interest to your brother.”

“What happened then?” Harrison asked.

“What then? Harry, the Americans chased Pancho Villa through northern Mexico for many months. They finally gave up and went home. Everyone knows that.”

“My brother knew you were selling weapons to Villa?”

“I told him. That was not important to him.”

“Then what was important, Maria?” Harrison sipped at the tequila slowly and looked at the young woman.

“As I told you—the Germans,” Maria said, patiently. “He was concerned that a German alliance with the Mexican armies would threaten the United States. Maybe the American Army came to Mexico to keep the Germans from gaining too much influence? It is possible.”

He looked at her skeptically. “What else can you tell me, Maria?”

“Harry, the generals always knew too much about where the American Army would go. Your brother began by investigating this.”

“Their spies?” James wanted to know.

“Everyone has spies,” Maria said. But with General Villa, the people are his eyes. The American Army invaded Mexico just like many years before. We did not support this. So many people, I think, helped General Villa. The Mexican people have long memories. Yesterday, today—it is all the same.”

“From what I read, we entered Mexico only to catch Pancho Villa, and with permission from the Mexican Government. Maria, he invaded our country. His soldiers are considered bandits and murderers.”

Maria bristled. “General Villa has the support of the people.”

“It sounds like you know him well.”

“Not well. We talk sometimes. He needed good weapons and I sold them to him. He wanted machine guns, so I found them. Brownings from the U.S. Army, water-cooled. I helped him because he is like us. But now, I think it is too late for him.”

“You still want Villa to win, don't you?” Harrison asked, wondering.

“Sí, claro. The American Army does not understand that General Villa is fighting for our rights,” Maria stated matter-of-factly. “Like your own George Washington.” She softly touched his hand.

Harrison scratched his head and suddenly grinned at her. “Politics can be very tiring.” At that moment, he was very aware of her hand on his.

Their shoulders touched.

“It appears we won't have a war with Mexico, at least.”

She shook her head. “Don't be so sure, Harry.”

“What do you mean?” He asked.

“Today, the generals are only concerned with fighting each other.” Maria took the decanter and poured each another glass, but kept talking. “But General Carranza, quien sabe? He has great ambitions, that one. And the Germans are still here, working for that war.”

They both sipped from their glasses, considering.

“Forgive me, I become very emotional when I speak of the struggles of my people. I want so much for the country of my mother. It is very rich, too. But the people are very poor.”

Again, Harrison envied her passion. But politics here seems so confusing, he thought. Loyalties pulled in one direction, then another—good and bad changing daily.

“One day things will be different,” Maria said.

He could not help staring. She's so beautiful.

When Maria caught him staring at her, she suddenly looked down and blushed.

“The northern papers are not sympathetic to Pancho Villa since his attack on Columbus.” Harrison forced himself to focus on the discussion, but he remained too aware of her. “Remember, Maria,” he said, “General Villa was killing Americans and taking their property.”

“And El Presidente Wilson—does he care about the suffering of the Mexican people?” she answered. “Like my amigos now imprisoned in San Antonio? They only fought against unjust laws, as Pancho Villa is doing.”

Harrison tried to get the evening back on track. “Maria, I don't want to argue with you. I want answers to my brother's death. That's the reason I'm here.” But now the words were empty, and he knew it.

Her dark eyes held his blue eyes.

“Maria, I'm not here to talk politics with you.”

Maria was silent. Then she spoke, sadly. “I am sorry for my anger.” She paused to think. “There is something else that I must tell you. I gave your brother information on where General Villa hid his weapons and ammunition. Bart passed the information to General Pershing. and the American Army traded the information to Murguia, Carranza's general. Murguia's men found the arms and made ready, so when Villa attacked La Ciudad Chihuahua in April, hundreds of his men were killed. It was a terrible defeat, Harry. I saw it…. Villa's soldiers ran out of ammunition. They were captured. Hundreds of his men were hanged on La Avenida Colon, left to rot in the sun.