Bernardi was undeterred. “We were trying to find out where the others in the pack of devils were hiding. We did, of course, but it took a while to pry the information from him. He was a stubborn little savage.”
Villate leaned forward. He smelled the monsignor’s blood in the water and it pleased him. “By that time, I assume that the others in the pack of devils had already left that place if indeed they ever returned to it. Am I not correct?”
“You are,” Bernardi admitted grudgingly. “And you are also correct that we have no idea where they are right now.”
“How many men have deserted your legion because of this murder,” Villate asked.
“A few,” Bernardi said softly and after a moment’s hesitation.
“A few?” snapped Villate. “The true number is more like fifty and you know it. Fifty men have either disappeared into the slums of Havana or have gone over to the rebels. And how many others disapprove but have not deserted but will no longer fight as hard as they had been willing to for God and King. What you did was distasteful even to those extremely devout Catholics you and Salazar have recruited.”
“It was justice,” Bernardi responded sullenly. “And justice is sometimes very harsh.
The bishop shook his head. “Justice, monsignor, consists of a trial and an appropriate punishment, but only if the accused is found guilty according to the laws of Spain. There was no trial, only a punishment. What you did was little more than a lynching and it was made worse because you implied that the church supported your actions.”
“I am authorized to defend the faith against its enemies,” Bernardi snapped. “You’ve seen my credentials from Rome.”
Bishop Campoy smiled coldly. “Really? Both the Spanish government and the Vatican have had many more important things to do than verify your credentials, but we finally did get a response to our cables. Neither His Holiness nor anyone else in the Vatican acknowledges any association with you. We were told that you were a wide-eyed radical priest who opposed what reforms the Pope was trying to institute. They said that whatever credentials you showed indicating otherwise are fraudulent. We accept that you are indeed a monsignor, but you do not represent the will of Pope Leo XIII.”
Bernardi started to sputter. “I represent the wishes of many Roman Catholics in opposing the spread of heresy by any means necessary.”
“Have you considered that Spain might lose this war?” Villate asked. “We are indeed losing it right now. Our army is penned in and our fleet has been destroyed. The enemy is getting stronger while we grow weaker. When the war ends, the Americans will demand their pound of flesh and that includes Diego Salazar. If your people commit further atrocities, that pound of flesh may include you as well. Salazar will be given more justice by the Americans than you gave that boy. Salazar will likely be sent to either Washington or New York and put on trial for the murders of those men on the Eldorado and then hanged. If you are still alive and here in Havana, you may also be tried for the murder of that boy. Perhaps one or two of those fifty new deserters who will no longer be on hand to defend us will testify against you. Did you know, by the way, that the boy had been sodomized as well as beaten?”
Campoy was shocked. “Dear God.”
“I had nothing to do with that,” Bernardi insisted.
“Perhaps not directly,” said Campoy, “but you could be guilty of negligence, which is both a crime and a sin.”
Bernardi looked at the two men. “I know what you’re doing,” he said. “You’re trying to cover yourselves for the time when the Americans take over Havana.”
To his surprise, Villate laughed. “Of course, you fool. I do not wish to be hanged by either the United States for atrocities, or by our weak King Alfonso for having lost his precious Cuba. If you are thinking that you will be blamed at least in part for the debacle that is coming, then you are absolutely correct. I strongly urge you, if you wish to survive, to change your way of doing things. In short, no more executions. At least none without my express permission.”
“I understand,” said Bernardi.
Campoy leaned forward. “And if you have them on you, I will take those so-called credentials.”
* * *
“A fleet,” Secretary of State James Blaine exulted. “We’ve captured a bloody fleet. Now we can go on and take more of Spain’s decaying empire.”
The telegram from Cuba had just come in announcing that five Spanish cruisers were now in American hands. The public, of course, had found out about it too. There were no secrets in Washington and newspapers were already trumpeting the news that a Spanish fleet in Cuba had surrendered to an American fleet. The battle had been brief and there had been no American casualties, which made the triumph even more exciting. All throughout the nation’s capital, church bells were ringing and throngs of people were gathering around the White House. Fireworks displays were planned for the evening in Washington, New York and other major cities. More than a victory, it was a hope that the now heartily disliked war would soon be over. The Washington Post said that an American noose was tightening around the throats of Spain and Cuba. Blaine thought the prose was a little too florid but otherwise liked the sentiments.
Blaine and the others were in Blaine’s office in the State, War, and Navy Building just west of the White House. Blaine, along with Vice President Chester Arthur and the Secretaries of Navy and War, had chosen this site for their meeting to avoid the annoying presence of Libbie Custer. Her demands for negotiating or winning the release of her husband were becoming more and more strident, and there were growing concerns about her mental stability.
“Five small ships is hardly a fleet,” said Arthur drily. “And besides, what other Spanish properties would you wish us to annex?”
“The Philippines and Guam come to mind,” Blaine said cheerfully. “Without a navy, the Spaniards can’t very well defend them from us, can they?”
“Nor could we hold them, even if we managed to take them,” responded Naval Secretary William Hunt. “Those lands are thousands of miles away and have been under Spanish rule for centuries. We would have to send our ships halfway around the world on a journey that could take as long as four months each way. You forget that almost all of our warships are in the Atlantic, and not the Pacific. Maybe someday we’ll build a canal across the Isthmus of Panama, but right now that’s nothing more than an engineer’s fantasy.”
Arthur agreed with Hunt. “If we send what navy we have across the Pacific, we would have no ships here to protect us from European predators. England could take the Philippines from us in an instant, while France could exact a bloody vengeance if she so wished. We are a long ways from being a great power, although having a modern navy would be a major step forward.”
“So too would a canal across the Isthmus,” said Hunt.
Blaine was forced to agree, but he had further grand ideas. “Then we must have a two-ocean navy. If Great Britain can have a navy scattered all over the earth, then we surely must be able to have real squadrons in both oceans and not the handful of relics we currently possess. Gentlemen, we are entering into a new era of American power. If we are going to be a serious player on the world stage, then we must possess the tools.”
“Don’t you mean props?” the vice president chided gently. “All of that will cost money. If our new colonies turn out to be a fiscal drain, the voters will turn against us in a heartbeat.”
Secretary of War Lincoln added. “We are already paying a price. More than a thousand of our young men are dead with at least twice that many wounded, and the fever season is just beginning. I will grant you that these numbers are tiny in comparison with the great battles of Gettysburg, Shiloh, and elsewhere, but those were many years ago and today’s numbers represent real people whose death must mean something in order to be justified.”