The Most Beautiful Girl in Cuba(42)
Our competitors have begun publishing stories undermining Evangelina’s credibility and the Journal’s reporting on her case.
Reportedly, the queen regent has requested that Weyler treat Evangelina as a distinguished prisoner and move her to a convent while the legal proceedings are happening, but Weyler has instead cut off access to her at Recogidas, and now no one knows anything of the girl’s fate. There are rumors of a growing political power struggle within Spain, and given the international attention as a result of Evangelina’s celebrity, Weyler’s future may be in jeopardy.
Rafael has been absent from the city, but his sister Elena has been an invaluable source on Evangelina, corresponding with some of her contacts in Cuba about the girl’s background. I’ve written a few of the Journal’s pieces about Evangelina, and even though I have my doubts surrounding the angle we’ve taken as a paper, after confessing my spying to Hearst, I promised him that he would have my loyalty, and so I’ve thrown myself into this story with gusto despite my misgivings.
Michael gestures to me one morning while I’m working on a story in the newsroom. “Hearst’s office now.”
I grab my pad and pen and follow him into the office. Hearst is seated behind his desk, looking as though he hasn’t been to bed yet, his editor Chamberlain beside him, and two other reporters I know vaguely. I’m the only woman in the room.
Michael shuts the door behind us.
“We’re sending Karl Decker from the Washington bureau to Cuba. We’re setting him up as our man in Havana,” Hearst says, skipping any formalities, his voice filled with excitement. “Since Bryson’s been expelled from the country for his reporting, we’ll say Decker is his replacement.”
Hearst gestures toward Chamberlain. “Sam just went through the plan with him. Decker’s been there before, speaks Spanish, knows his way about town. If anyone’s going to break her out, he has the connections and daring to do so.”
My jaw drops at the words “break her out.” Surely, he doesn’t mean to send a reporter to break Evangelina Cisneros out of prison.
I’ve done my share of dangerous things to get a story, but this violates all sorts of international norms and principles, and if Decker is caught—
“We have the support of the American consulate in Havana,” Hearst continues. “One of the consular clerks, Donnell Rockwell, has taken an interest in Evangelina’s case. He’s met with her on several occasions now. He knows Decker and reached out to him. It’s a good plan, and if it’s successful, well, we’ll make history.”
And if it isn’t successful, people will likely die.
“What about the rest of the consulate?” one of the reporters asks. “What about Consul General Lee?”
“Fitzhugh likes his intrigues,” Hearst replies. “After all, the man runs his own network of spies throughout the country, and let’s just say I’m not sure how much he does after checking with Washington and how much of it is a result of him being left to his own devices. Lee won’t be a problem. He’s not one for all of the State Department’s protocols and restrictions. The biggest issue is getting the girl out of Recogidas. But we’ll leave that to Decker to solve.”
“And if the plan fails?” I murmur to Michael.
I haven’t the courage to voice my fears in the face of Hearst’s enthusiasm, but it seems like a very real concern given Weyler’s anger and subsequent retaliation over a few news articles about Evangelina. What will he do in the face of an attempted jailbreak? If we fail, Evangelina’s life will hang in the balance, her movement to a penal colony in Ceuta or somewhere similar a near certainty.
If we succeed, how will Weyler retaliate to reassert his authority in Cuba?
Fifteen
Marina
Throughout the summer of 1897, the war continues on. What we lack in numbers facing a military force five times our size, we make up in ingenuity and resourcefulness, exploiting the weak areas of Spain’s defenses. Cuba’s terrain has proven useful, and the revolutionaries shelter in the mountains, making raids down into the countryside. All sorts of ailments and maladies plague the Spanish, thinning their numbers as they’re unused to the hostile elements we’ve grown accustomed to. We may be unable to defeat them in a single battle, but there’s no denying Spain is growing weary with each attack.
At the same time, so are we.
The situation in the camps has grown dire. Sewage fills the streets, people sleeping nearly on top of one another in cramped quarters, using threadbare blankets for cover against the elements. Disease is everywhere, and it seems that not a day goes by when someone hasn’t succumbed to their illness, death a constant companion. Yellow fever, cholera, and smallpox plague us, many of the camps’ inhabitants walking around with sores over their bodies. The dead are no longer buried; their numbers are simply too great. They are left on the ground, their flesh devoured by dogs and birds; they are eventually tossed in roving death carts to be ferried away.
I’ve been fortunate to stay mostly healthy, although I fear for Luz and Isabella given their ages and their more delicate constitutions.
It is mostly women and children here, and we are the casualties of war, the ones who stand the greatest chance of losing our lives, while the men in the mountains are protected by the island’s natural defenses.