Part 124 (1/2)

Luis joined him a moment later. ”When we are through with this one, I'm going to send my father to his grave. My grandmother is not here to deal with him, and I have nothing but contempt for him.”

Ramon took a gold coin from his pocket. He held it up to show it to me.

”Do you recognize this coin?” he asked me.

I sputtered an insult, something from my street days, but it came out as gibberish because the noose was still too tight. Why was he showing me the coin? Why didn't he just kill me?

”An interesting coin.” Ramon examined the coin, turning it over. ”A very special coin. Do you know why it's a special coin, Cristo?”

”Why are we delaying?” Luis asked. ”Let's torture the truth out of him and then kill him.”

Eh, this was my brother talking. I gibbered an incoherent insult to him.

”Patience, compadre,” Ramon said to Luis, ”remember that patience is a virtue. This is a tough hombre we are dealing with. Eh, Cristo, you are a tough hombre, no? You have survived everything thrown at you and come out stronger. Until now.”

He kicked the chair out from under me. I strangled and kicked. Again, it felt as if my head was going to separate from my shoulders. After a moment the chair came back under my feet.

”You know what the worse part is of this dilemma you are in? Each time I kick the chair from your feet, your neck stretches a little more. After three or four times it will snap. But no, not with the big break your neck gets when you drop on a gallows. This fall will not kill you, not right away. Amigo, it will leave you crippled. You will not be able to move your arms and legs. You will be totally helpless. Not even able to feed yourself. You will die slowly, begging those around you to kill you because you can't do it yourself.”

Ramon spoke slowly, enunciating each word carefully so I would not fail to understand completely what he was saying. Despite the noose around my neck, I was horrified at what he was saying. I had the courage to die, but I did not have the courage to be totally paralyzed and die slowly, like a piece of meat rotting.

Ramon showed me the coin again.

”I want to talk to you about this coin. As I told you, it is a very unusual coin.”

I was completely mystified as to why he was so interested in the coin.

”Do you know where I got the coin? From my brother-in-law, Miguel. Do you know where he got it?”

He looked up at me. I stared back pa.s.sively. His foot went to the chair, and I nodded frantically.

”Me,” I gasped.

”Ah, you see, Luis, he has decided to cooperate with us.” Ramon grinned sadly up at me with contrived regret. ”Luis is so impatient, always in a hurry. He wanted to kill you immediately. You have me to thank for the moments your life has been extended.”

He flipped the coin in the air and caught it. He examined it again, turning it over in his hand. ”Si, a very unusual coin. Do know why it is unusual?”

I shook my head.

”You don't know? Eh, I believe you, I didn't think you knew. One reason it is unusual is that it is presently the only thing in the world keeping you alive.” He tossed the coin and caught it again. ”If it were not for this coin, I would have let Luis run his sword through you the moment the coach door opened.”

He bounced the coin in his hand. ”To you, it is just a gold coin. It appears to be exactly like so many other gold coins of the same size and weight. But, amigo, if you look at it carefully, examine it closely, you will see that there is a difference. Whose face is on the gold coins minted where the Spanish flag flies anywhere in the world?” His foot went back to the chair. ”Tell me, amigo, whose face?”

”The king,” I gagged.

”Si, our Most Catholic Majesty.” He held up the coin to me. ”But you see, if you look at the coin, the king's face is not on it. It is another face. Do you know whose face? No, I know you don't. It is the not very handsome features of one Roberto Baltazar, Count de Nuevo Leon. Not a caballero of one of the old houses of Spain, but what we call our silver n.o.bility, a mule team driver who staked a prospector who found a vein of pure silver. Enough for a man with mule mierda on his boots to buy a grand t.i.tle.

”Count Roberto, besides having the vanity of a purchased t.i.tle, turned some of the silver he h.o.a.rded into gold coinage for his own private use, with his features on them. He delivered the silver bars to the mint and had the mint stamp out gold coins in exchange for the silver.”

I was still completely in the dark as to why I was being told a story about a rich man who wanted his face on coins.