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

the post mark?”

Pratt looked at the envelope and said, “Brooklyn, N.Y.

April 15,1897, 4- pm.”

“And, could I have his name please?”

“Certainly, it's Charles Lean Bear. You'll probably find him now on the Southern Cheyenne Reservation in Oklahoma.”

After leaving the Indian School McKenzie decided to have lunch in the officers mess at Carlise Barracks. When he arrived at the Barracks he was handed a telegram. He walked outside and opened the envelope and read, “STORMY WEATHER EXPECTED. COME HOME”.

The next day Lieutenant McKenzie sat watching Colonel Willett pace back and forth as he spoke. “What we have Lieutenant is a conundrum. My understanding is that the New York City Police Department is ready to issue a complaint against the Army for interfering in an investigation, tampering with and damaging evidence along with bribing a police officer. At the same time they have your signature on a piece of paper that they say is proof that you are responsible for these acts. What do you have to say?”

“I'd say that I'm guilty. My question is what will the army do?”

“Well young man, I'm open for suggestions”.

“See if they're willing to accept my apology and return of Major Parker's belongings, all except the red, glass bead”.

“Why not the bead?”

“At the time I met with Sergeant O'Malley I read the evidence report. There was no mention of the bead. In all probability they either overlooked it as evidence or forgot to list it. Besides, right now I consider the bead crucial to my investigation”.

“What about the bribe to the detective?”

“Simply a misunderstanding. My intention was to provide the sergeant necessary funds to pay any informants.”

“Do you think they'll buy it?”

“We'll know if they agree to accept my apology. All we can do is sit and wait. Then I have to meet privately with Detective Sergeant O'Malley”.

“What for?”

“To make sure he's on the same page”.

“I'll leave that up to you. For the moment I'm keeping this problem with the police from the General. Therefore, don't mention this to anyone”.

“Yes sir.”

Two days later Alan McKenzie sat in a rocking chair on the porch of Mrs. Brentwoods boarding house. He smiled when he saw Detective Sergeant Patrick O'Malley walking up the steps leading to the porch. “Ah, Sergeant O'Malley. Good to see you. A little bird has told me that they have your ass in a sling. Is that true?”, said McKenzie.

“Aye it is. And it might mean my position sir. I hope that you wanting this meeting means that you know a way out of my predicament”.

“Perhaps Sergeant, perhaps. Here, sit, relax and tell me what the charges are they've filed against you”.

“Accepting a bribe, tempering with evidence, misfeasance and malfeasance of office. Now, I'll be telling you that I could also go to jail”.

“I assume that you will have a hearing”.

“Aye, in three days”.

“Do you have a lawyer?”

“One of sorts. I can't afford the best you see”.

“No matter. Have him call me as a witness. Here are the two bags containing the effects of Major Parker. I'll testify why they were wanted by the army. Has there been any mention of the photographs?”

“No, not yet”.

“If the photo's haven't been mentioned by now I doubt if they ever will be. Now, let's concentrate on the bribery charge. What evidence do they have?”

“I really don't know”.

“Alright. My story will be that the money I gave you was to pay for any information coming from informants. If they mention why you didn't tell them that your answer is, because you didn't know what was happening with my investigation and was afraid to mention me, professional ethics, if you will”.

Three days later Detective Sergeant Patrick O'Malley was found innocent of all charges and Lieutenant Alan McKenzie apologized for the problem he had created in the matter.

After the hearing O'Malley and McKenzie sat at a table in

Delmonico's having a late lunch. “You don't know how much I appreciate what you've done for me Lieutenant”, said O'Malley.

“Alan, my name is Alan and don't mention it, actually I more or less got you in too deep when I gave you the money”.

“I shouldn’t have taken it, but on my wages a gold piece puts a little more than bread on the table for my wee one's”.

“So you have children”.

“Aye, three to be exact”.

“You are a fortunate man”.

“That I am”.

“Now what are you going to do?”

“Continue the investigation of course”.

“You do realize that by now your hearing along with Parker's murder will be connected and the story will appear in the newspapers”.

“And, I am deeply sorry about that Alan”.

“No matter, if I'm asked I'll say that the investigation is a joint venture. Is that alright with you?”

“Aye and allow me to suggest that from now on it could be. That is if you're willing to do so”.

“Sounds good to me. Right now, I have two, possible suspects. Let's have another coffee and dessert and I'll bring you up to date on what I have”, McKenzie suggested.

**************

Back in Washington McKenzie reported on what had transpired with the New York Police Department and Detective Sergeant Patrick O'Malley. “So, at this time New York is satisfied?”, asked Colonel Willett.

“Yes sir, but at the same time the investigation into the murder of Major Parker is a joint project”.

“Yes, the cat is out of the bag so to speak, but I didn't expect it to be a secret for long. Nonetheless, be careful what you say to or around reporters”.

“Yes sir”.

“Now, what are your plans. Where do you go from here?”

“I'm still trying to find Henderson. If you don't mind I want to concentrate on him”.

“I thought you said he was in Dallas”.

“I hope he still is”.

***********************

A week later Alan McKenzie knocked on the front door of Wilma Brooks boarding house at 130 Patterson Ave. Dallas Texas. When the door opened a gray haired, short, over weight woman stood looking at him. “If you're looking for a room, I'm filled, sorry,” she said.

“No Mam, It's not a room I'm after. I'm looking for a lodger of yours, a Mister Adam Henderson”, said McKenzie.

“What for? Are you a bill collector? If you are he owes me for back rent. I get paid first”.

“I can assure you that I am not a bill collector. Now, is Mr. Henderson in?”

“He's in his room, but you can't go up there. You can wait in the pallor or here on the porch. It's up to you”.

“The porch is fine.”

“Have a seat. I'll go and tell him you are here. Who shall I say is calling?”

“Alan McKenzie”.

Wilma Brooks closed the door and McKenzie walked over to a rocking chair and sat down.

Ten minutes later, a short, thin man came through the front door. When he saw the man seated in the rocking chair he stopped and said, “You're army ain't you?”

McKenzie stood up and said, “Yes. I'm Lieutenant McKenzie. How did you know I was from the army?”

“Two reasons, first the way you look, all neat and trim. I bet you went to West Point. Second, I've been waiting to hear from the army about my pension request. I hope that's why you're here”.

“Sorry to disappoint you. I'm here for another reason.”

“And, just what would that be?”, asked Henderson as he took a seat in a chair directly across from McKenzie.

“Do you remember a Major Conrad Parker?”

“I think of the bastard everyday, more when the scars on my back start to aching”.

“So, you were flogged”.

“Would you like to see my back?”

“Not at the moment. I have a question”.

“What is it?”

“Why were you in New York in April?”

“I wasn't”.

“Before you go any further I want you to know that I saw your signature signed when you checked into the Waldorf-Astoria”.

Henderson began to laugh. “Me, checking into the Waldorf-Astoria? Do I look like I can afford such a luxury? I'm barely making it, besides I've never been in New York in my life”, he said as he took his pipe and tobacco pouch out of his pocket. After filling the bowl of his pipe he struck a match and lit it.

McKenzie felt the excitement grow as he looked at the beaded tobacco pouch. “That tobacco pouch is different. I don't think I've ever seen one like that. May I see it”, asked the lieutenant.

“It's different because I had a Sioux woman make it for me. Cost me a cup of sugar back at Fort Lincoln. Right now it's getting kinda old and fragile, like me. I know how to handle it, you don't, so if you please, be careful. Many of the threads have either broke or rotted away. I've lost several beads”.

“Are you aware that Major Parker is dead?”, asked McKenzie as he turned the pouch over in his hands.

“No. good riddance, I say. How did the bastard die?”

“He was murdered.”

“The hell you say?”

“Believe me, someone killed him”, said McKenzie handing the pouch back to Henderson.

“My hat's off to whoever it was, but it wasn't me if that's what you're thinking.”

“Well, I have information that you are a suspect”.

“By who?”

“The New York City Police”.

“They're barking up the wrong tree”.

“You certainly had a reason to kill him”.

“So did the rest of Company C. Nobody liked Parker and that goes for the officers too”.

“I've been told that”.

“By who?”

“Sergeant McGuire”.

“Ah, the good old sarge. He looked after me, pleaded with the Major not to flog me. Came to the infirmary everyday as I was healing. Parker got wind of it and berated McGuire one evening at tattoo”.

“Do you know McGuire left the Seventh?”

“No, really? It don't surprise me none. Where is he now?”

“Carlise Barracks. He's training new, Calvary recruits”.

“Good place for him. He should be nearing retirement.

He told me once he was saving his money to visit Ireland. He has family back there. I hope he gets to see them”.

“Well Mr. Henderson, don't be surprised if you're visited by members of the New York Police. Like I said, you're a suspect in Parker's murder as far as they are concerned”.

“I'll be here waiting. As I told you it wasn't me there that signed my name. Besides, I'm sure there are more Adam Henderson's in this world then me. Let me ask you something.

How did you find me?”

“You mention your request for an army pension. The return address was on the envelope of one of the letters you sent”.

“If the army has my letters then they also have my signature on those letters. Did you check and compare with the signed name at the hotel?”

“Not yet, but I will”.

“Good, meanwhile, when you get a chance see what you can do about my pension. Hell, I've more then earned it”.

“I'll do that Mr. Henderson. Now, I'll be making my way back to my hotel. I want to catch this evenings express back to Washington”.

“Have a safe trip”.

“Thank you”.

Later that evening as the train sped along the tracks McKenzie sat deep in thought in the railroad car. “Henderson has a beaded tobacco pouch. He said that it was made by a Sioux woman. If so the pouch is missing several beads including red beads, but also white and blue beads from what I think is a Thunderbird design. If that is so, did Henderson drop more than one bead in the hotel room? Is Henderson the killer? The Thunderbird design I can see it in my mind”.

“Tickets! Tickets please. Have your tickets ready please”, said the conductor as he came down the aisle.

McKenzie reached into the inside pocket of his suit coat and removed his ticket. He handed it to the conductor who said, “Thank you, I hope you have a nice trip sir”.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Six

Sixty five Acres

 

Charles Lean Bear sat at the rough hewed table he had made. He had learned to like the taste of coffee and he sipped it slowly allowing for the fact that it was hot since the pot had just came off of the fire. Anchisha, his wife watched him in silence, then asked, “Will you sign the papers?”

Charles looked at her and said, “The rule is that in order to acquire sixty five acres