Warrior Song by Robert F. Clifton (books to read in a lifetime .TXT) 📖

he rejoined his tribal members for awhile on the reservation given to them in Kansas. However, the people did not like it there finding the soil unproductive for farming. As a result he moved with the others to where they joined the Arapaho and settled in what was called, “Indian Territory”. After seeing what he considered the white man's world and allowed to be off the reservation for six months he came home to be with his people. Now, as a carpenter he helped build the buildings needed by the people. This day he along with other men were constructing a new school.

Called Avanaco by his wife, a Cheyenne young woman he married named Anchisha (Ray of Light) she soon gave him a son. He named the boy Honiahaka (Bear). Anchisha raised the boy along tribal traditional ways along with some of the white man's ways, in particular, Christianity. Charles Lean Bear did not attend church on Sundays. He told his wife that he would not attend while he still had hatred in his heart for the man with the red hair and beard. Try as he might he could not forgive. Many times at night in his dreams he would see again the murder of his mother and the mutilation of her body and deep down he still wanted revenge. He wanted to sing the songs of the warrior, songs that were sung in victory over an enemy, the victory song. When possible he went to Fort Sill. There he looked for and asked for information about a Calvary officer with red hair and beard. Each time he came away without any new knowledge. When possible he spoke to other members of both the Cheyenne and Arapaho tribes asking them to listen for any information on such a man. Still, nothing new was heard or found.

At about the same time McKenzie was ordered to report to General Miller He gathered up his belongings along with the briefcase containing his reports and caught the next train to Washington, D.C.

At nine o'clock on the morning Lieutenant McKenzie reported to Colonel Willett. “So, what did you think of Mr. Pratt?”, asked the Colonel.

“I considered him to be a big help. As I mentioned, his opinion is that Parker was not mutilated by an Indian. Whoever it was, was too neat. However, whoever it was, again in Mr. Pratt opinion, was very knowledgeable of the Western Plain tribes and their customs”.

“Good, but should you have to deal with him again let me advise you that Captain Pratt, make that Mr. Pratt is becoming a thorn in the side of the Bureau of Indian Affairs as well as the army”.

“How so?”, asked McKenzie.

“Evidently, he disagrees with the reservation system. He believes that the American Indian should be allowed to integrate society and be able to live and work just as other Americans live and work”.

“What's his complaint with the army?”

“He see's the army as the force that keeps the Indian on the reservation. Technically he's right, but the army is slowly reducing the forts that support the Bureau of Indian Affairs. According to Pratt it's not being done fast enough”

“I see. What I need to know now sir is the location of a Private Adam Henderson of the Seventh Calvary, last known station was at Fort Laramie. My information is that Major Parker had this man flogged. If so, I'd like to talk to him”.

“Fine I'll look into it right away. Meanwhile I want you to return to New York. Make sure you didn't overlook anything.”

Yes sir, I'd like to know just how the police are making out in the case.”

“It appears as though you're becoming a criminal investigator, Lieutenant”, said the Colonel.

“No sir. I'm still an engineer, an engineer who has to finish building gun emplacements in Texas. I can't do that until I finish this investigation and I can't do that without going back to the Waldorf-Astoria”.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Four

The

Waldorf-Astoria

 

Alan McKenzie sat looking at the small, frail, hotel maid.

He could see that she was nervous and appeared to want to be careful in the way she answered questions. “Miss McCarthy please relax. I only want to ask you a few questions about what you saw and found in relation to Major Parker's murder”. He said.

“I've answered all of those question to the police right after it happened,” Elsie replied.

“Yes, I know. Please, keep in mind that I'm not from the police. I will not involve you to the point that you are a witness of mine that would be forced to testify in court. I'm simply an army officer assigned to look into the facts of the matter. I hope you understand”.

“You're sure now that I won't be involved?”

“Not by me”.

“Alright then. What would you like to know?”

“I've already read what you have told Detective O'Malley so you won't have to repeat that part of your statement. I want you to try and remember that morning. In particular when you were in the hallway on the third floor”.

“Yes”.

“Can you remember any stains on the rug or walls?”

“What kind of stains?”

“Blood stains”.

“No. The only blood I saw was the bed soaked in it”.

“I see. Now, after the murder, what did you do?”

“Do you mean at home or at work?”

“At work?”

“Me and Helen French had to clean room 301. God bless her, she removed the sheets and blankets. Maintenance men removed the saturated mattress and I used the sweeper to clean the rug”.

“Was there any blood on the rug?”

“No sir, not a drop.”

“What about the walls?”

“No, none”.

“Is there anything else that you found?”

“Just a bead.”

“What kind of bead?”

“A tiny, red, glass bead. I almost missed it because you see the rug in the room is red. But, when I use the sweeper I look at the area I'm about to clean and it was then that I saw it”.

“And, what did you do with it?”

“I threw it away of course”.

“Threw it where?”

“In the wastepaper basket”.

“And of course the basket was emptied”.

“Yes sir, but not by me. The Police Detective gathered up all of the guest's clothing and then emptied the contents of the wastepaper basket into a large paper bag”.

“The police were there while you cleaned the room?”

“Yes sir. As I recall as I was cleaning the Detective came into the room and said that he was taking the dead mans things”.

“I see. Anything else?”

“No sir, not that I know of”.

“Thank you very much Miss McCarthy. You've been a big help”.

McKenzie sat alone as he wrote notes on a sheet of yellow blue lined paper. As he was folding it and placing it in his suit coat pocket Devin Hogan walked up and said, “Is there anything that you'll be wanting to ask me this fine day?”

“I can't think of anything at the moment,” McKenzie replied.

“Really now? Are you certain?”.

McKenzie smiled and said, “I'll tell you what Mr. Hogan if the saloon is open why don't we go there and let me collect my thoughts on the matter. Perhaps something will come to mind”.

“An excellent idea sir. An excellent idea”.

As the two man sat at a table at the rear of the room Devin Hogan lifted his glass and said, “Here's to you.”

“Thank you”, said McKenzie as he stirred the coffee in his cup. “Come to think of it there is something that I want to discuss with you”, he continued.

“And, just what would that be sir?”

“I would like to see the registrations for the month of April, if possible”.

“Ah, now you're placing me between a rock and a hard place. I can see the book you have in mind only in doing me duties as the House Detective.”

“How so?”

“Usually the situation arises when I spot uninvited, unregistered guest's in the hotel. When I confront them they naturally say that they have a right to be here since they're registered. It is then that I ask to see the book. Any other time it is kept by the desk clerk”.

“I understand, still I'd like to see it. Can it be done?”

“As they say, anything can be done for a price”.

“How much are we talking about?”

“Twenty dollars. Two ten dollar, Liberty Head gold pieces. One for the night desk clerk and one for me for taking the time to convince him to allow you to look at the book”.

“Agreed. How soon can I look at the book?”

“Ah, now, my good man, you'll be giving me some time to put things together and in motion. If possible you'll be checking with me in two days. Now, all of this talking has made me throat go dry again”.

“McKenzie signaled the bartender.

After leaving the hotel the Lieutenant walked to the precinct. This time upon entering he went directly to the stairs and walked up to the second floor. When he got there he gazed through a suspended, blue cloud of tobacco smoke generated by the pipes, cigars and cigarettes used by the detectives working in the room. Seeing Detective Sergeant O'Malley seated at a desk he walked over to him and said, “If you have a moment Sergeant, I'd like to talk with you”.

O'Malley looked up in surprise. “Ah, the good Lieutenant McKenzie. And, what brings you to the likes of me this fine day?”

“Could I sit down?”, asked McKenzie.

“Of course, of course. Please have a seat here next to me desk”.

McKenzie sat down and when he was comfortable said, “It's my understanding that you are in possession of the belongings of Major Parker”.

“Now, when you say belongings, what are you referring to may I ask?”

“Everything. His uniforms, clothing, suspenders, collars, papers, currency, everything that he had in the room when he was murdered”.

“And, how is it that you come to me with such a request?”

“Because Major Parker alive or dead is still a Commissioned Officer of the United States Army. Therefore, all of his belongings, everything that he had in that room under Army regulations is to be collected, inventoried and stored until such time as it can be given to his next of kin. So, Sergeant, I'm here to collect what belongs to the army, if you will”.

“And, I'll be telling you that what we have is considered evidence in a homicide matter”.

McKenzie looked around the room and after lowering his voice said, “Just how close are you of solving this case and don't bullshit me”.

“O'Malley smiled. “Not very close. Hell, in all probability

we'll never solve it”.

“Good, now instead of me having to go all the way to President McKinley, which I'll do if I have to in order to get the Majors belongings, why don't you just turn them over to me. Tell you what I'll do. I'll make it worth your while. A gratuity if you will for helping me out and I'll sign a recipe that you draw up showing that you turned the items over to me and why. That will protect you should a problem arise”.

O'Malley reached for the sack of Duke tobacco on his desk. After picking it up he rolled a cigarette, then lit it. After exhaling a cloud of smoke while deep in thought said, “When you mention gratuity how much are we talking about?”

“I'm thinking an American Gold Eagle”.

“A fifty dollar gold piece?”

“Correct”.

“Agreed, but don't give it to me here. Come with me to the property room. I'll give you the Major's things, you give me the Eagle”.

“Lead the way”.

Back in his room at Mrs. Bentwood Boarding House McKenzie carefully opened the first of two large, tan, paper bags. The first thing he removed was the Major's blood soaked, nightshirt that was wrapped in butchers paper. Next he removed the bulky items, a dress uniform, a suit, both wrinkled now after being tossed into the bag. In the second bag he took out shirts, socks, underwear, celluloid collars, an ascot and suspenders. With all those things removed he looked into the bag and saw the little things. A stick pin for a necktie, a brass cigar tip cutter, one cigar and one hundred dollars in gold coin. At