“But when he rode out to meet Juarez, the new president extended no greeting, no gratitude, but merely nodded curtly and signaled for his coachman to drive on. It was a crushing blow to Díaz’s pride, an undeserved humiliation.”
Tige whistled softly. “Did Juarez suspect him of treachery?”
“No, I think it was more a case of principle. Juarez was antimilitary. After the defeat of Maximilian he dismissed two-thirds of his army, as Morgan can attest. But after that, Díaz was no longer in Juarez’s camp. He resigned his commission and retired to La Noria, a hacienda in Oaxaca that the grateful state awarded him in 1867. And from there, he began plotting to overthrow Juarez. His attempts to be elected president failed, as Juarez narrowly won against Díaz and Lerdo in ’71. Then Díaz claimed that the election was fraudulent, and demanded the overthrow of Juarez.
“That revolt failed, and when Juarez died in 1872, Lerdo, as chief justice of the supreme court, succeeded him as president. Since Lerdo has been so unpopular, it was easier for Díaz to revolt this past January. It seems that he will succeed this time.”
Frowning, Tige, a beefy man with close-set eyes and a good-natured face, shook his head. “What is the United States’ position on this? Do we want Lerdo or Díaz?”
“Either one can be manipulated, or bought, into acceding to our interests, but Lerdo has been particularly generous with his concessions. What we must do, gentlemen, is ascertain that Díaz is just as amenable should he succeed in his coup—and we must be ready.”
Steve leaned forward, crushed his cigar into the glass ashtray. “And that is where I come in as ambassador, I presume. I’m to humor the victor.”
“Not necessarily.” Bishop’s smile was thin. “There are, shall we say, certain factions that have invested heavily in Lerdo. Díaz is an unknown quantity to some of these men. He could destroy them if he chooses. Some of these investors are powerful. Lust for wealth and domination is a dangerous motivation. Unscrupulous men are capable of endangering the peace efforts and negotiations underway, and at this time, we do not want to risk another war between Mexico and the United States. I’m certain we all agree on that, gentlemen. It is even more risky when the diverse actions of some are sanctioned by the law of a foreign power that lies so close to our borders. The threat of losing land and wealth can make men act—precipitately.”
“You mean, they’ll fight to save their holdings before Díaz takes them away.” Butch Casey, the Texan that Steve had met years before in California, leaned forward, elbows on the table and his fingers forming a steeple under his bearded chin. “If Lerdo is ousted, the lands he sold could be reclaimed. If Americans fight back, we’ve got a war on our hands with Mexico.”
“Yes.” Bishop shoved aside the cards to clear a space on the oilcloth, and began to draw a map of Chihuahua. “I happen to know that a certain senator from Virginia has purchased a large hacienda right here, along the border. It’s being mined for silver and copper, and stands to be exceedingly profitable. I am certain he would stop at very little to save his interests. Right now, the senator has a private railroad, but the Central Pacific has recently purchased rights to run tracks through the property, giving the American government the perfect opportunity to supervise the situation as ore from the mines is transported north. It has also incurred the avid interest of the Mexican faction, and needs to be monitored.”
It didn’t take a map to see the direction in which Bishop was heading the conversation.
Steve sat back in his chair, mouth curled into a wry smile as he met Bishop’s opaque gaze. “Since Ginny’s father is involved, it stands to reason that her presence in Mexico City is expected and perfectly natural.”
“Exactly. And since she insisted upon coming with you, how better to learn what each side is doing than to have a foot in both camps?” Bishop coughed discreetly. “Of course, our government cannot acknowledge any part in this, as everyone here is aware. But there is backup available. Casey is known in a few towns along the Mexican border, and Charley has taken a job at the mines. All that remains now is for a man accepted as a Mexican landowner and ambassador of goodwill to be included in the Mexicans’ confidence. It could avert a full-scale war between the two countries, which would only end badly for Mexico, especially since the country is already in the throes of a struggle between Lerdo and Díaz.”
“Damn you,” Steve said without rancor. By now, he should be accustomed to Bishop’s machinations. And the man was right. Another war between the United States and Mexico would be disastrous for both sides, too newly recovering from catastrophic civil wars.
“When do you plan to leave?”
Steve poured another half glass of bourbon, downed it in one shot and shrugged.
“I’ll let you know. Don’t bother with the usual reminder about being on my own—I never forget it.” He stood up, chair legs scraping loudly on the floor. “But this time, I want you to stay out of it. Let me work alone. That means that I’m not involving Ginny. It’s too dangerous.”
“Of course.”
But despite Bishop’s too swift agreement, an uneasy suspicion lingered. It wouldn’t be that easy to keep her out of it. Not once they arrived in Mexico. He had learned the hard way that no plan was perfect, no
