Warrior Song, Robert F. Clifton [good books to read for teens TXT] 📗

you out to Oklahoma, you end up in Montana with the result that you come back with not one, but now two suspects”, said Colonel Willett.

“Charles Lean Bear had two things that makes him a suspect. He had a motive and he had the opportunity.” McKenzie replied.

“That's practically what you said about the Henderson fella.

You said that he had a motive. Hell, you even have him signing into the Waldorf-Astoria. Next, you'll be telling me that they both killed Parker.”

“Sorry Colonel, but if you recall I told you that I'm not a criminal investigator.”

“Do you think that by mentioning that fact continuously will get you re-assigned and out from under this investigation? Think again Lieutenant. Tell me, have you been in touch with your New York detective friend?”

“No sir.”

“Alright, I want you back in New York. Meet with him. Bring him up to date on what you have and what you think you have. At the same time I want to know what the New York Police have been doing”.

“Since I'm going back to New York there is a matter I would like to mention.'

“And, that is?”

“I stay at a boarding house each time you assign me to New York. The landlady suggested that I pay in advance and reserve my room there.”

“What is the rent?”

“A dollar a day”.

“Reserve the room for the next three months. No more. Should it become necessary later on we'll worry about it then. Anything else?”

“No sir.”

“You're dismissed.”

Late the next afternoon Alan McKenzie handed Mrs. Bentwood ninety three dollars. That should reserve me room for the next three months”, he said.

“It does. Still, I'll be giving you money back for the times you are not here at my table,” she replied.

“Thank you. That's up to you.”

The next day Patrick O'Malley stood and shook the hand of McKenzie. I'll be telling you that I thought the devil finally caught up to you. Where have you been?,” he asked.

“Oklahoma and then Montana”.

“And what is it that you found?”

“We might have another suspect.”

“The hell you say. Let me guess. It's an Indian”.

“A Cheyenne who goes by the name, Avanaco. They named him Charles at the Indian School. So, he also goes by the name, Charles Lean Bear.”

“And what makes him one of your suspects?”

“He has a motive, a reason to kill Parker, providing Parker is the red headed officer who he watched kill and mutilate his mother”.

“I see. Anything else?”

“He has a beaded tobacco pouch.”

“Was it missing a red bead?”

“No, not that I could see and I examined it closely.”

“Allow me to ask you something Alan. How many Indians did you see while you were out here?”

“Hundreds.”

“Do you know how many might have had beaded tobacco pouches?”

“No.”

“My friend, don't jump to conclusions. We Irish have a saying.

If you don't know the way. Walk slowly.”

“You may be right. Anyway, What have you been doing?”

“Ah Laddy, feast your eyes on these and tell me true that this is the man known to you as Adam Henderson.”

“The photo's from Dallas. Great, this should tell us something”.

“I'm afraid not. You see, while you were out there consorting with the Cheyenne I was showing these photographs to all of the hotel staff. That includes the desk clerks, bell boys and maids. They all remember the name, Adam Henderson. Unfortunately they say the man they remember was shorter than me, balding, had a thick mustache and was between forty five and fifty five years old. Nonetheless me Buck O', he did smoke a pipe.”

“So, Henderson is not our man.”

“No, he's not”.

“Damn.”

“Exactly. It is right now that I'm asking, do you know of anyone who meets that description?”

“One man does come to mind”.

“And, just who would that be?”

“Sergeant Donovan McGuire. Think about it. He was Henderson's Sergeant. He had access the Henderson's signature when he signed reports, passes, furloughs and requests. Having that ability to copy and forge the signature he could have done just that when he signed in at the hotel.”

“Would this McGuire have a reason to kill Parker?”

“Yes, Henderson told me that Parker berated McGuire one evening at tattoo. You're Irish, and so is McGuire if he were you what would you do?”

“Aye, you do have a point, my friend. But is he indeed a short man?”

“No, however, think about it were the desk clerks sitting down or standing up when they saw him? Did the bell boys observe the man they described in fact seated in a chair or standing up?”

“Ah, what you are saying my friend is that we still have many questions that need answering.”

“Looks like I'm heading for the Carlise Barracks”. said McKenzie.

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Eight

Carlisle Barracks

 

After pacing back and forth Colonel Willett stopped, turned and looked at Lieutenant McKenzie. "Now you're telling me that Adam Henderson, a man you traveled all the way to Texas to question. A man you were certain was a prime suspect because his tobacco pouch is missing beads. A man who had or has a reason to kill Major Parker because of the flogging, is no longer a suspect. Why again?"

"Because those working at the Waldorf-Astoria and were on duty during the month of April can not identify Henderson from the photo's shown to them by the police".

"And what is it that you want to do next?"

"I want to go back to Carlisle and question Sergeant McGuire. I think he has a lot more he can tell me about Henderson."

"Like what?"

"Like is there more to the story about the flogging?"

"Such as?"

"I don't know sir, but flogging a man over having a dirty bridle seems to be a bit extreme. Perhaps Parker had another reason."

"To me, that seems a bit far fetched. However, if you think talking again to the Sergeant will be beneficial then by all means go there. Talk to him. Hopefully you'll return with new information. It's been several months now. I was hoping that by now you would have been able to solve this crime."

"May I remind the Colonel that I am no professional investigator?"

"Yes. Yes, we've been over that time and time again. Go to Pennsylvania Lieutenant and this time come back with answers."

"Yes sir".

In his room at the Bachelor Officer Quarters at Carlisle Barracks McKenzie unpacked his suitcase. He had packed enough clothing to last him for at least five days. If a longer stay became necessary he would pay to have his laundry and cleaning done.

He heard footsteps in the hallway, footsteps that were approaching his room. He turned when he heard a little tapping on his open door. Turning towards the sound he saw an old friend. His roommate at West Point, Wesley Sanders. "Wes, you old, son of a bitch. What are you doing here?," he asked.

"Hello Alan, I saw your name on the B O Q registry. Well as you know A students at the Point become engineers. B students become artillery officers. C students end up on the Calvary and since I was a C student, here I am at the Calvary School. Now, that you know why I'm here, what the hell is an engineer doing here?"

"Special assignment from the Commanding Generals Office."

"Can you talk about it?," asked Sanders.

"I can tell you, but don't mention what I tell you to anyone here at the Barracks. The reason I'm here is to question a non-com".

"No problem".

"I'm investigating the murder of an army officer, actually a Calvary Officer."

"I didn't know that you were a qualified criminal investigator".

"I'm not, It seems that General Miller wants to establish a military police unit in the army. They chose me to be the forerunner of that unit."

"And, how is it going?"

"Poor Wes, piss poor. But, enough about that, what's your Unit?"

"Third Calvary. Right now, we're at Jefferson Barracks in Missouri. I was sent here to see how the training of Calvary recruits is going. It seems the big brass is expecting a war with Spain. There's even a rumor that horses and material are already being shipped to Tampa, Florida."

"Well, are you still single?"

"Certainly, think about it. What woman in their right mind would want either one of us. How long are you going to be here Al?"

"At least three days, maybe longer. It's according on how things go".

"Oh, I almost forgot to ask. What was the name of the Calvary officer that was killed? I might know him".

"Major, Conrad Parker."

"Wow. No kidding?".

"Did you know him?"

"Nope. I heard of him. They say he was a no good, son of a bitch. His brother officers hated him and his men despised him.

I'd say he had it coming from somebody."

"Well, right now I have more than enough people who wanted to kill him. All I need to do is find the one that eventually did."

Sanders removed his pocket watch, opened the case, looked at the time and said, "Hey, I'll catch up with you later. I've got five minutes to get to the corral."

"If you wait a minute I'll go with you. I'm looking for a particular Sergeant who should be around the area," said McKenzie.

"Do you have plans for this evening?", asked Sanders.

"No."

"Good, there's a tavern in town. I hear it serves the best chicken and dumplings around for miles. It seems they use an old, Amish recipe. Let’s dine there tonight. My treat."

"Damn. You're buying? The pay in the Calvary must be good. As I recall you had deep pockets at the Point."

As the two officers approached the Calvary training area McKenzie looked for Sergeant McGuire. Finally, he saw him mounted and ordering then watching recruits practicing formation drills. He decided to wait until McGuire was finished with his duties, then he would talk to him. As he waited he watched the young men in training. What he saw interested him.

As he stood there Lieutenant Sanders rode up and halted a dark, brown, mustang. "Is that the Sergeant you to talk to?,", he asked McKenzie.

"Yes, but I can wait, Alan answered.

"You don't have to wait. I'm about to relieve him. I want to see these boys at the trot and at the gallop. So far from what I've seen they look pretty good. I'll send the Sergeant to you".

"Thanks Wes."

A few minutes later Sergeant Donovan who had dismounted walked towards McKenzie. When he got close enough he dropped the reins and allowed the horse to nibble at new shoots of grass. Then he saluted and said, "Sergeant McGuire, reporting as ordered sir."

"At ease Sergeant", McKenzie replied returning the salute. "How have you been?", McKenzie continued.

"Fine sir. The new lads are learning quickly, those that don't get me boot in their arse, so to speak sir."

"Excellent, but I don't want to see you about the recruits. If you remember the last time we talked it was about Major Parker and Adam Henderson."

"Aye sir. I remember it well."

"I'll get right to the point. The Major was killed in the Waldorf-Astoria Hotel. A man calling himself Adam Henderson registered there. I met with Henderson in Dallas where he now lives. As a suspect, the Dallas Police at the request of the New York City Police took photographs of Henderson and sent them to a Detective O'Malley. O'Malley then showed the photo's to the hotel employees. None of them recognized Adam Henderson as the man who had registered there."

"Is that a fact?", asked McGuire.

"Yes. Now, in my questioning of Henderson in Texas he told me that after he was flogged that Major Parker called you out and berated you in front of the troops one evening at tattoo. Is he correct?"

"Aye, that he is."

"The employees at the hotel gave Detective O'Malley a description of the man they saw in the month of April as looking a lot like you."

"Really now. As good looking as that?"

"This is not a laughing matter Sergeant."

"Nor should it be sir. However, if the officers question is was it me, the answer is no. If the question is was I ever in the Waldorf Astoria as a guest or a sightseer, again the answer is no.

I've never been in New York State, or for the matter, the city