They should all be detained separately and kept incommunicado.
Joaquín Vallespín Andreu
Minister of the Interior
Madrid, 12 November
***
GENERAL INSPECTORATE OF PRISONS
To: Don Joaquín Vallespín Andreu
Minister of the Interior Madrid
Dear Sir,
I am pleased to inform you that the following: Martínez Carmona, Ramón; Porlier y Osborne, Carmelo; Miravalls Hernández, Domiciano; and Cañabate Ruiz, Fernando, were today admitted into Cartagena Prison without incident, awaiting their transfer to prisons in Africa, where they will serve their sentences.
Yours faithfully,
Ernesto de Miguel Marín
Inspector General of Prisons
Madrid, 28 November 1866
***
To: Señor Don Ramón María Narváez
President of the Council of Ministers, Madrid
Dear General,
I am pleased to be able to send you the results contained in the accompanying report, which reached my hands this very night. I can give you more details if you require them.
Joaquin Vallespín Andreu
Madrid, 5 December
(Only copy)
***
To: Don Joaquín Vallespín Andreu
Minister of the Interior, Madrid
Dear Joaquín,
I have only one thing to say: excellent work. What our man has given us represents the most serious blow we can deal the schemer J. P. Under separate cover, I am sending you precise instructions on how to approach the matter. This afternoon, when I return from the Palace, we will go into more detail.
We have to be firm. There is no other way. As for the soldiers implicated, I am going to recommend that Sangonera use his toughest measures. We have to teach them a lesson.
Meanwhile, stand your ground.
Ramón María Narváez
6 December
***
MINISTRY OF THE INTERIOR
To: Don Luis Álvarez Rendruejo
Please arrange for orders to be given to detain the following people, on charges of high treason and of conspiring against the government of Her Majesty the Queen:
De la Mata Ordóñez, José. Industrialist. Ronda de Toledo, 22, Madrid
Fernández Garre, Julián. Civil servant. Calle Cervantes, 19, Madrid
Gal Rupérez, Olegario. Captain in the Engineers. Jarilla Barracks, Alcalá de Henares
Gal Rupérez, José María. Lieutenant in the Artillery. La Colegiata Barracks, Madrid
Cebrián Lucientes, Santiago. Lieutenant Colonel in the Infantry. Trinidad Barracks, Madrid
Ambrona Páez, Manuel. Commanding Officer in the Engineers. Jarilla Barracks, Alcalá de Henares
Figuero Robledo, Ginés. Shopkeeper. Calle Segovia, 16, Madrid
Esplandiú Casals, Jaime. Lieutenant in the Infantry. Vicálvaro Barracks
Romero Alcázar, Onofre. Administrator of "Los Rocíos" estate, Toledo
Villagordo López, Vicente. Commanding Officer in the Infantry. Vicálvaro Barracks
As regards the military personnel included in this report, you will act in conjunction with the corresponding military authorities, who are already in possession of the appropriate orders issued by His Excellency the Minister of War.
Joaquín Vallespín Andreu
Minister of the Interior
Madrid, 7 December 1866
(Copy)
***
GENERAL INSPECTORATE OF GOVERNMENT SECURITY AND POLICE
To: Don Joaquín Vallespín Andreu
Minister of the Interior
Dear Sir,
I am pleased to tell you that this morning the instructions received yesterday have now been carried out by employees of this department in conjunction with the military authorities, and that all the individuals listed in the same have now been detained.
Yours faithfully,
Luis Álvarez Rendruejo
Inspector General of Government Security and Police
Madrid, 8 December 1866
***
GENERAL INSPECTORATE OF PRISONS
To: Don Joaquín Vallespín Andreu
Minister of the Interior
Dear Sir,
I am writing to tell you that, as of today, the following people have been placed in Cádiz Prison awaiting deportation to the Philippines.
De la Mata Ordóñez, José
Fernández Garre, Julián
Figuero Robledo, Ginés
Romero Alcázar, Onofre
Yours faithfully,
Ernesto de Miguel Marín
Inspector General of Prisons
Madrid, 19 December 1866
***
MINISTRY OF WAR
To: Don Joaquín Vallespín Andreu
Minister of the Interior
Madrid
Dear Joaquín,
This letter is official confirmation that this afternoon Lieutenant Colonel Cebrián Lucientes and Commanding Officers Ambrona Páez and Villagordo López went into exile in the Canaries on board the steamship Rodrigo Suárez. Captain Olegario Gal Rupérez and his brother José María Gal Rupérez are still in the military prison in Cádiz awaiting the next embarkation of deportees for Fernando Po.
Pedro Sangonera Ortiz
Minister
Madrid, 23 December
***
MINISTRY OF WAR
To: Don Joaquín Vallespín Andreu
Minister of the Interior
Madrid
Dear Joaquín,
It is once again my duty, my painful duty on this occasion, to take up my pen to inform you officially that, since no pardon was given by Her Majesty the Queen, and the period stipulated in his sentence having passed, Lieutenant Jaime Esplandiú Casals was shot at four o'clock by a firing squad in the moat of Oñate Castle. He was condemned to death for sedition, high treason, and conspiring against Her Majesty's government.
Yours faithfully,
Pedro Sangonera Ortiz
Minister
Madrid, 26 December
This was followed by a series of official notes, along with other brief letters of a confidential nature between Narváez and the Minister of the Interior, bearing later dates, and in which they discussed the various activities of Prim's agents in Spain and abroad. Don Jaime deduced from them that the government had been keeping a close eye on the clandestine movements of the conspirators. They were constantly citing names and places, recommending that this man be placed under surveillance or that man detained; they warned of the false name under which one of Prim's agents was to embark from Barcelona. Don Jaime looked back at the other letters to check the dates. The correspondence covered a period of a year and ended abruptly. He thought back and realized that the end coincided with the death in Madrid of Joaquín Vallespín, the man on whom the whole file seemed to center. Vallespín, as he well remembered, had been one of Agapito Cárceles's bêtes noires at the Café Progreso; he was a man described as entirely loyal to Narváez and to the monarchy; as an eminent member of the Moderate Party he had distinguished himself during his tenure by his determination to take a firm hand He had died of some kind of heart disease and his funeral had been carried out with due pomp; indeed Narváez himself had led the procession Narváez had followed Vallespín to the grave shortly afterward thus depriving Isabel II of her main political support.
Don Jaime scratched his head in puzzlement. All this made no sense. He wasn't particularly up-to-date on cabinet machinations, but he had the feeling that these documents, which were the likely cause of Luis de Ayala's death, contained nothing to justify his eagerness to hide them, far less his murder. Don Jaime reread a few pages with dogged concentration, hoping to discover some clue that might have escaped him on the first reading—in vain. He lingered longest over the somewhat cryptic note that he found in the second part of the file: the brief letter from Narváez to Vallespín addressing him in familiar terms. In it, Narv�
�ez referred to a proposal, doubtless put to him by the government minister, which he deemed "acceptable" and which apparently had to do with a matter concerning "a mining concession." Narváez had consulted with someone called Pepito Zamora, probably the man who was Minister of Mines at the time, José Zamora. But that seemed to be all. There was no clue, no other names. "I have my reservations about doing anything to benefit this scoundrel," Narváez had written. Which scoundrel was he referring to? Perhaps the answer lay there, in the name that appeared nowhere. Or did it?
He sighed. Perhaps for someone versed in the matter, this would have some meaning, but it did not lead him to any conclusion at all. He could not understand what it was that made those documents so important and dangerous that people would stop at nothing, not even murder, in order to gain possession of them. Besides, why had Luis de Ayala entrusted them to him? Who wanted to steal them, and why? Then again, how had the Marqués de los Alumbres, who claimed to keep very much on the sidelines in politics, managed to get hold of these papers, which were part of the private correspondence of the late minister?
There was at least a logical explanation for that. Joaquín Vallespín Andreu was the Marqués de los Alumbres's uncle. The government post that Ayala had held during his brief experience of public life had been offered to him by Andreu during one of Narváez's last governments. Did the dates coincide? Don Jaime could not quite remember, although Ayala's brief stint at the ministry might have come later. The important thing was that Ayala could have obtained the documents while he was carrying out his official duties, or perhaps on the death of his uncle. That was reasonable enough, even very likely. But what did they mean, and why such an interest in keeping them secret? Were they so very dangerous, so very compromising that a justification could be found in them for murder?
He got up from the table and walked about the room, weighed down by this grim story that completely defied his analytical abilities. It was all so devilishly absurd, especially the involuntary role that he had played in the tragedy—and was still playing, he thought with a shudder. What did Adela de Otero have to do with that web of conspiracies, official letters, and lists of names? And not one of the names was familiar to him. He did remember reading something in the newspaper about the events mentioned, or else he had heard some remarks made about them at the café, before and after every attempt Prim made to take power. He even remembered the execution of that poor lieutenant, Jaime Esplandiú. But nothing else. He was up a blind alley.
He thought of going to the police, handing over the file to them, and forgetting all about the matter. But it wasn't that simple. He remembered with a sense of great unease the interrogation he had been submitted to that morning by the chief of police as they stood over Ayala's body. He had lied to Campillo by concealing the existence of the sealed envelope. And if those documents did compromise someone, they were equally compromising for him, since he had been the innocent depository. Innocent? The word made him curl his lip. Ayala was not alive to explain the whole imbroglio, and innocence was something for the judges to decide.
He had never felt so confused. His honest nature rebelled against the lie, but did he have any choice? A prudent instinct counseled him to destroy the folder, to extricate himself from the nightmare, if, that is, there was still time. That way no one would know anything. No one—but neither would he. And he needed to know what sordid thing lay at the back of all this. He had a right to know, and the reasons for that were many. If he did not uncover the mystery, he would never regain his peace of mind.
He would decide what to do with the documents later on, whether to destroy them or to hand them over to the police. Now what he had to do was crack the code. It was clear, though, that he could not do so alone. Perhaps someone more versed in political matters.
He thought of Cárceles. Why not? He was a colleague, a friend, and in addition a passionate follower of political events in the country. The names and facts contained in the file would doubtless be familiar to him.
He hurriedly picked up the papers, hid them behind the row of books again, picked up his walking stick and top hat, and left the house. As he stepped out into the street, he consulted his watch: it was nearly six in the evening. Cárceles would probably be at the Café Progreso. It was nearby, barely ten minutes away, but Don Jaime was in a hurry. He hailed a carriage and asked the driver to take him there as quickly as possible.
HE found Cárceles in his usual corner of the café, deep in a monologue about the evil role that the Austrians and the Bourbons had played in the fate of Spain. Opposite him, wearing a crumpled scarf about his neck and his eternal air of incurable melancholy, Romero was looking at him, not listening, sucking distractedly on a sugar cube. Contrary to his custom, Don Jaime dispensed with formalities. Apologizing to Don Marcelino, he took Cárceles to one side and explained the situation to him, albeit through hints and with all kinds of hedges.
"It's about some documents that I have in my possession, for reasons that are, for the moment, irrelevant. I need someone of your expertise to clarify a few doubts I have. I can, of course, trust in your absolute discretion."
The journalist seemed delighted with the idea. He had finished his lecture on Austrian and Bourbon decadence, and the music teacher was hardly an ideal companion. After making their excuses to Romero, they both left the café.
They decided to walk to Calle Bordadores. Along the way, Cárceles referred in passing to the tragedy at the Palacio de Villaflores, which was the talk of all Madrid. He was vaguely aware that Luis de Ayala had been one of Don Jaime's clients, and he demanded details of the event with such acute, professional curiosity that Don Jaime found it very hard to keep him away from the subject with evasive answers. Cárceles, who never missed an opportunity to make some scornful remark about the aristocratic classes, seemed completely unmoved by the death of one of their number.
"Less work for the sovereign people when the time comes," he proclaimed lugubriously, immediately changing the subject when he saw Don Jaime's disapproving look. After a while, though, he returned to the attack, this time to put forward the hypothesis that there was doubtless a woman involved in the marquis's death. It was clear as day: the marquis had obviously been bumped off in a matter of honor. After all, hadn't he been killed with a saber or something of the sort? Perhaps Don Jaime knew.
Don Jaime saw with relief that they had arrived at his apartment. Cárceles, who was visiting the place for the first time, scanned the small living room with some curiosity. When he saw the rows of books, he headed straight for them, studying the titles on the spines with a critical eye.
"Not bad," he said at last with a magnanimous gesture. "Personally, though, I feel there should be a few of those books so fundamental to an understanding of the age in which we live—Rousseau, say, or perhaps a little Voltaire."
Don Jaime did not give a damn about the age he lived in, nor about Cárceles's tastes in literary or philosophical material, so he interrupted his friend as tactfully as he could and brought the conversation back to the matter at hand. Cárceles forgot about the books and was clearly keen to tackle the documents. Don Jaime took them from their hiding place.
"Above all, Don Agapito, I trust in your honor as a friend and a gentleman to treat this whole matter with the utmost discretion." He spoke gravely, and he could see that his tone of voice appeared to impress the journalist. "Do I have your word?"
Cárceles solemnly raised a hand to his breast. "Of course you do."
Don Jaime thought that perhaps he was, after all, wrong to trust him in that way, but there was no turning back. He spread the contents of the folder on the table. "These documents have come into my possession for reasons that I am not at liberty to explain, since the secret is not mine to reveal. They contain some hidden meaning that I cannot uncover and that, because it is of great importance to me, I must understand." There was now a look of absorbed attention on Cárceles's face as he listened to his friend's somewhat faltering words. "Perhaps the problem l
ies in my lack of knowledge of political matters in this country, but the fact is that I am incapable of making any sense of what obviously does possess sense. That is why I decided to ask you, since you know about these things. I would like you to read the documents, try to deduce what it is all about, and then give me your expert opinion."
The Fencing Master Page 16