Behind the simple raised altar at the far end hung a small picture, difficult to see in the dimness. As we moved forward, Victoria blurted out, ‘It’s Jesus and Mary.’
‘Of course,’ Chicomeztli responded. ‘Perhaps you were expecting twin shrines to Huitzilopochtli and Tlaloc, yes? An altar drenched in human blood?’
Huitzilopochtli and Tlaloc were two major gods of the Aztecs before their conversion to Christianity, honoured with mass sacrifices of prisoners in former times.
Victoria seemed nervous at the very mention of their names.
‘We call the Son of God Ipalnemoani,’ Chicomeztli told her. ‘It means “He By Whom We Live”.’
I also knew that the Aztecs referred to God as Tloque Nahaque, ‘Lord of the Immediate Vicinity’. Both these names had once been applied to pre-Christian deities, all of which increased suspicions that the Aztecs still clung to their ancient beliefs beneath the cloak of Roman Catholicism.
Like all Aztecs, Chicomeztli was aware of our fears, and he obviously enjoyed playing up to them.
‘Perhaps you would like to see another chapel? We have many more, some much larger than this. We keep them very clean.’
His fractured smile and off-centre gaze accentuated the impression of mockery.
‘I don’t think that will be necessary,’ I said.
We lunched in a dining room on one of the upper levels which was adorned with a large Warhola painting of Tenochtitlan. The pyramids and towers of the capital stood out in super-realism against the greens and blues of lake and sky while a spiky golden sun blazed down. The colours were stark and primary, and it did not surprise me that the artist had later pursued an equally successful career producing animated features for one of the major Acapulco studios.
Chicomeztli intended to take us on to see the new chamber for the House of Commons, but both Victoria and I were now wearying of the tour. Victoria pleaded a migraine and returned to her suite. I asked to see Extepan.
Chicomeztli glanced at me across the table. ‘Do you mean immediately?’
I nodded.
‘It’s possible he may not be available.’
I merely shrugged, as if to say: ‘Try.’
He went off to a phone booth while I gazed idly at the scattering of people at the other tables. All were Aztecs, attending to their lunches in silence, sparing me only the occasional glance. A television high on one wall was showing the latest episode of Oaxaca Heights, an imported soap opera which was by far the BBC’s most popular programme.
Chicomeztli returned.
‘I have been asked if it is urgent,’ he said.
‘Quite urgent.’
‘Then the governor will see you immediately. He apologizes in advance if you find him in informal circumstances. It is the time in each day when he takes a break from his duties.’
I nodded, perfectly aware that the Aztecs followed a practice similar to the Spanish siesta. I was actually hoping to catch him off-guard.
We rode a private lift to Extepan’s suite, and were met by a retainer who took us through the governor’s offices to a room beyond. Aztec chairs and couches dominated the room, but on the walls were framed posters for London Underground, Roberts’ Supermarkets and the National Lottery. A low table was cluttered with newspapers and magazines, while glass-fronted cabinets held all manner of bric-à-brac from cheap plaster models of Big Ben to a plastic policeman’s helmet.
An adjoining door opened, and Extepan emerged. He was dressed only in a dark blue towelling robe, and the swathe of his chest gleamed with oil. Behind him was a young woman in a striped huipil, her long black hair braided, her arms bare. She immediately struck me as beautiful, with large almond eyes and a perfectly formed mouth. From her dress, it appeared that she was one of the auianime.
‘Catherine,’ Extepan said, coming forward and taking my hand. ‘Forgive me receiving you in this way, but I gather it was something urgent.’
I felt awkward and embarrassed because I had nothing pressing to tell him; I was instead hoping to obtain some information from him.
He motioned to chairs and asked the girl – whom he called ‘Mia’ – to fetch us refreshments. She bowed, keeping her eyes averted from me, and withdrew silently.
Extepan sat cross-legged in an armchair, carefully draping his robe over his knees.
While Chicomeztli hovered discreetly in the background, Extepan remarked, ‘A daily massage is one of my few indulgences. I find it soothes the spirit as well as tones the muscles.’
‘If I had known,’ I said drily, ‘I wouldn’t have disturbed you.’
‘If it had been truly inconvenient, then I would have said so.’
Chicomeztli sat down out of earshot with a copy of the Daily Herald, whose banner headline read CROWN HIM!
‘Mia is my household companion,’ Extepan went on, ‘and a great comfort to me. I am a long way from home, and the duties of a governor permit few luxuries. Now – in what way can I help you?’
He had an openness and directness which seemed almost innocent. But I had to beware of making judgements on surface appearances, especially since it was an Aztec trait to mask the most intricate of manoeuvrings beneath a show of formal courtesies. While it was normal for the tlatoani to appoint his sons to eminent positions, Extepan would not have been given the governorship of Britain if he did not possess any diplomatic or administrative talents.
‘Where’s Richard?’ I asked. ‘I haven’t seen him in several days.’
‘I believe today he’s visiting the Natural History Museum,’ Extepan said. ‘They have a new display of articulated dinosaurs which I understand he was eager to see.’
This fitted: Richard still had his child-like delight in large creatures. But the answer wasn’t sufficient for me.
‘And previous days? I have the distinct impression he’s being kept away from me.’
Extepan belted his robe more tightly. ‘That’s not the case, I assure you. Weren’t you told he had gone to Windsor? Your private rooms at the castle are being refurnished, and Richard wanted to see how the work was progressing.’
‘I was told, but I found it hard to credit that he’d take any interest in such matters,’
Extepan smiled. ‘He spent most of his time playing croquet.’
‘With nothing else to occupy him?’
I knew from ALEX that he had, in fact, met with the French and Italian ambassadors, though I had no idea what they had discussed.
‘A number of diplomatic courtesies were conducted,’ Extepan said. ‘Other European countries are naturally interested in your brother’s intentions, and he only agreed to meet them in exchange for a “holiday” at Windsor.’
‘Why wasn’t I told?’
Extepan looked rueful. ‘To be frank, he asked that you shouldn’t be. He thought you would disapprove.’
‘I see. Which European countries exactly?’
‘Italy, Serbia and France.’
‘How convenient. All countries under your occupation. No doubt they were most enthusiastic that Richard should accept the crown.’
Extepan sat back. ‘I think, Catherine, that perhaps you are the only person who isn’t.’
I didn’t want to get into another fruitless argument on the subject, so I kept my peace. At this point, Mia returned, bearing a silver tray with two crystal tumblers containing a thick green drink. She moved with perfect grace, giving off fragrances of cinnamon and lavender. Again she withdrew without glancing once at me.