Assassin's Honor (9781561648207) (6 page)

“Good Lord, the canal . . .”

“Yes, sir. The Germans want to be in a position to control access to the canal at Panama.”

U.S.S. Chicago

Key West Naval Station

Saturday afternoon

10 December 1892

Walker's face creased in thought as he got up and walked to the Caribbean chart on his bulkhead. “Wake, you just might have something there. Are there any decent harbors on the Mayan coast?”

I joined him in perusing the chart and pointed toward the Yucatán area.

“Some small ones are along the mainland, but they're not nearly deep enough for a proper naval station. But wait, sir—the island of Cozumel lies about eight or ten miles off the coast. It's large, about five by twenty miles, and not crowded—or important to the central Mexican government. And though there's no harbor at all, the western side is a lee from the prevailing Caribbean winds and an open anchorage can be found at San Miguel, the main town. The Germans could establish
machine shops, coal depots, and some large docks along the shoreline, which is deep enough for major warships to get in close.”

The admiral looked at the place on the chart and nodded. “Is this Dzul in control of that island?”

“Not sure, sir. He controls the Mayan mainland in the area, only eight miles across the water, so he probably does have influence at Cozumel, if not outright control.”

Walker's finger followed the coastline down the chart. “So if the Germans wanted to establish a base there, they would need two things politically: stability in the area and permission of the Mexican central government.”

I immediately saw his line of thought and extended it. “And assassinating Dzul would eliminate the perennial instability of a rebellious local leader, thereby helping the Mexican government end the Caste War. And in exchange for that, President Díaz gives permission to the Germans to lease the land, probably for decades, and build their Caribbean base.”

“Precisely, Wake. The Germans simply go there under the pretext of helping Dzul, probably by offering to supply him guns. They lull him into a meeting, then kill him, probably by poisoning him in a way that doesn't point back to them, as was done to Drake, thus negating the risk of inciting the natives. Then they install a local man in charge who is amenable to their wishes. After that, they quietly slip in some military advisers in mufti and enough modern weaponry to keep the local populace under control.”

“Just like they did in Samoa, sir, when they deposed King Malietoa Laupepa and installed Tamasese as king.”

“Yes. Simple, low profile, and effective.”

I thought the scheme brilliant. “And Díaz won't complain, will he, sir? It's a quiet quid pro quo for ridding him of a war that's drained the country for generations. Thus, the Germans get their base of operations, and the Monroe Doctrine isn't triggered because it wasn't done by brute force and, after all, they
are only leasing the land. A neatly done fait accompli, which our leadership in Washington must accept.”

Walker's eyes narrowed. “The Germans don't even recognize the Monroe Doctrine and have continually ridiculed it, calling us the United States of
North
America. The Latin countries love hearing
that
sort of talk. And just to make sure the Mexican government remembers the quid pro quo, the German navy shows up in the form of
Gneisenau
, which just happened to put into Key West today. It really is shrewd, isn't it, Wake? They've already got colonies across Africa and the Pacific, and now they'll finally get the beginning of one in the Americas.”

The admiral was hot on the trail by then, and pounded the Caribbean coast of Nicaragua on the chart. “And, of course, that base would just happen to be right around the corner from the potential trans-isthmus canal across Nicaragua, wouldn't it?”

I knew Walker was a big proponent of the United States building its own canal across Nicaragua. Many thought it could be a sea level canal and easier to build than the French effort through the mountains in Panama. That endeavor had failed wretchedly, cost twenty thousand lives, and resulted the project's promoter, Ferdinand de Lesseps, being under investigation for bribery and fraud.

“Nicaragua is a good point, Admiral. It's probably their prime underlying motivation. Berlin is thinking well ahead. It'll take years to survey and build that canal. By then, the Germans will be well ensconced, both commercially and militarily.”

Walker's reply reflected grudging admiration. “Machiavelli had nothing on these gentlemen in Berlin, and this is just one part of their grand worldwide scheme. Oh, I bet Kaiser Willy's probably on pins and needles right about now, waiting to see how this turns out. It'll be a very nice Christmas present to him, and that current toady of his, Chancellor Caprivi, will probably get some big medal for pulling it off. I wish Bismarck was still in charge over there. He had sense.”

The admiral sat back down in his chair and waved for me to do likewise. With pursed lips and drumming fingers, he thought
for a while. “Now, what about this Simon Drake fellow? What's your opinion on his real role in this, and why he was poisoned?”

“All we have so far is supposition, sir. But here is my hypothesis,” I said. “It is logical to assume Drake probably socialized with the German diplomats and businessmen in Caracas, so he could've heard some snippet of conversation about a potential base in Mexico during evening cocktails. And somehow he came into possession of that chart fragment. I think it's logical to assume it is stolen, torn out of the chart.”

The admiral nodded agreement as I continued. “Drake worked in the German telegraph company, so when he saw an odd naval code message, he put two and two together and came up with four, figuring it was about to happen. They guard that naval code pretty closely, so I doubt he knew the true message and the details of who and when, but he might well have already deduced what and why. Then he would have understood the plan was about to unfold.”

“So with all that was at stake, they killed him to keep the secret. Operational security, as it were.”

“It does look that way, sir. Maybe he was on annual leave and headed back to the United States when the Germans in Caracas discovered what he had. If he ever was able to tell the press when he got to the U.S., the game would be up and Germany would suffer a major loss of face in Latin America. It would've ruined their political and commercial efforts all across the hemisphere. Time was of the essence, so according to their logic, Drake had to be killed—by someone on that ship during the voyage. That person had to have been slipped aboard before they got under way from Venezuela, since the steamer touched at no port between there and Key West.”

“Hmm. An American citizen murdered on an American ship in American waters by order of a foreign power—that would light up the New York papers, and Washington as well. It's all supposition, as you say, but it does sound plausible. Still, we've not enough evidence to report this theory as confirmed fact to
Washington just yet.”

The admiral was right, for the Harrison administration was in its last few months and the president was still in mourning for his recently deceased wife. Harrison would have no appetite for confrontation with a European power in his final weeks. The new president-elect, former president Grover Cleveland, would take over in March. And I knew from personal experience with Cleveland he wanted no part of a confrontation with any foreign country.

I asked, “If we are right, sir, this happens in only six days. So what do we do now?”

The look in Walker's eye gave me a pretty good idea of the answer. And I knew I wasn't going to like it.

U.S.S. Chicago

Key West Naval Station

Saturday afternoon

10 December 1892

Before replying to my question, Admiral Walker had more inquiries about the Yucatán Peninsula. “Are there many American citizens on that coast?”

“None to speak of, sir.”

“That's good—and one less thing to worry about. Do the Mexicans have a cable station in the area?”

“There's one at Mérida, the main town of the peninsula, sir. It's located up in the interior of the northwest part, about twenty miles inland from the Gulf of Mexico coast, and connects the area with Mexico proper.”

“How long to get there from this Mayan coast?”

“From Xel-ha and Cozumel to Mérida's port at Progreso, it would be twenty-four to thirty hours transit under steam, given good weather, around the top of the peninsula. Otherwise, it's at
least a week, probably more, to go overland through the dense jungle.”

“Too far and too long. Is that the closest cable station?”

“No, sir. The closest cable station would be down the coast at the town of Belize, in British Honduras, about a hundred miles south from Cozumel—it's against the prevailing current and maybe twenty hours steaming time. The British cable goes across to the Cayman Islands and onto Jamaica. From there it goes to Cuba, and then up here to Key West and the United States.”

“I see . . .” The admiral paused for another moment of deliberation while examining the calendar on his desk.

Next came his command voice. “Very well, Commander Wake, here are your orders. The Key West station commander will give your ship top priority on everything. As soon as
Bennington
is coaled and provisioned, you will head at best speed for Xel-ha and Cozumel. Time is short. How long will it take you to get under way?”

I thought of Gardiner's lists and tried not to groan. Liberty for the crew would be cancelled yet again. We would need all hands to load the coal, and all the depot workers to load the provisions.

“We'll shift
Bennington
to the wharf when I get back onboard. By working all night, we can be under way at dawn, sir.”

Walker knew what it would take, but he showed no gratitude. Instead, he plunged into the details of my task.

“Once there in Mexico, you will meet this Dzul fellow and ascertain the situation with him and the Germans. Then you'll head quickly to Belize and cable me with what you discover. I'll expect the report as soon as you have something solid—and in any event,
no later
than nine a.m. on the fourteenth of December, four days from now. You will receive further orders by return cable once I have your report. Questions?”

“Yes, sir. I have several.”

“State them.”

“Aye, sir. What is the official reason for our presence there? Should I warn Dzul of the plot? What are my rules of engagement, vis-à-vis the Mexicans and the Mayans? What are the rules regarding my relations with any German citizens or German warships I might find there?”

“Good questions, Commander. I'll take them in order. One, you'll be there on a coastal navigation survey to study the currents and reefs in the Yucatán area. Two, yes, warn Dzul of the plot. Three, as far as this Mexican government versus Mayan squabble, stay neutral, but obviously you will defend your ship and men, or American citizens ashore, if they are attacked by
anyone
. And fourth, as to the Germans . . . hmm . . .”

Walker drummed his fingers on the table while considering the issue. His mien was as grim as death, for he full well understood the weight of his words and the slender limb on which they were placed. “You will exercise the utmost diplomacy and social interaction with them, in order to gain the most intelligence of their intentions.”

The admiral eased his expression with a chuckle. “Use your gentlemanly charm, Peter, just as Rork is using his Gaelic wits with his own German counterparts in the grogshops ashore as we speak. Make friends with them.”

“What if they are using force against the natives, sir?”

The chuckle ended abruptly. “That's different. If you see any overt German naval or military actions against Mexican civilians, warn the Germans to stop, for they are violating the Monroe Doctrine. If they do not end their action, it is contrary to the accepted behavior of civilized nations and you will intervene to stop it, Commander Wake. I'll not have them doing here in the Americas what they did in the South Pacific. Understood?”