Call Down The Hawk

by Richard Folmar

  “You be reporting to Will Bryan?”

  “No, this is personal.”

  “If you are writing to that pretty Molly Langdon, give her my howdy.”

  “I’m writing to Ginny, but I will also give her your howdy.”

  . The voyage had been an unhappy trial for his friend. The Dolphin’s doctor had pronounced him as one of the most pathetic cases of sea sickness he’d ever witnessed. It had only been in the last two days that the big fellow had lost that putrid green color.

  Finally, Hand murmured, “Reckon I’ll go upstairs and get some fresh air.”

  Seth turned in his chair, “It’s called going up on deck. You still feeling queasy?”

  “Naw, I done licked it, but I’ll level with you, Seth, when I get off this boat, I ain’t never gonna get back on another one.”

  “Oh? And, just how are you planning to get back home?”

  “I’ll get me a horse and light a shuck to good old Texas.”

  Seth laughed. “Look, Hand, I’m sorry I lost my temper just now.”

  There was a discreet cough at the entrance to their double cabin. The curtain was pushed aside to reveal a seaman in gleaming whites. “Yeoman Weems, sir,” he addressed Seth. “Captain presents his compliments and wonders if you and Mr. Comfort would care to join him on the bridge to watch our approach into Vera Cruz harbor?”

  “Thank you, Yeoman,” Seth said. “Why yes, Mr. Comfort and I would like that very much. We would be obliged if you would inform Captain Earle that we accept his kind invitation.”

  “Yes, sir,” Yeoman Weems said, saluting smartly and leaving.

  Hand slapped his leg and let out a whoop, “Hot dang! Won’t I be proud to get these legs back on dry land.”

  “So you can look for a horse?”

  “Aw, Pard. You know what I meant. I ain’t fixing to run south on you.”

  Seth laughed, “I never thought you were. I am just pulling your leg. Besides, when you do get your horse, you want to run north instead of south. Give me about three minutes to finish this letter and I’ll join you and the Captain on the bridge.”

  Lieutenant Commander Earle, Captain of the 258 ton, coal-fired, dispatch boat, U.S.S. Dolphin, acknowledged Seth’s arrival at the bridge house with an affable nod. Hand was outside with a pair of binoculars on the right wing. Captain Earle turned to the bearded quartermaster at the wheel and ordered a course alteration and a direction to engineering for half-speed. “Lieutenant Jameson,” he addressed the other officer present, “you have the con to bring the ship in.” Turning to Seth, he said, “Mr. Cane, shall we join Mr. Comfort out on the wing? I believe you will get a much better view of the harbor and city out there.”

  The Dolphin, at reduced speed, nosed her sharp bow through the grayish water between red buoys that marked the gap in the reef forming the harbor of Vera Cruz. As the ship edged its way in, there was a call for the anchor watch to repair to the forward deck. The harbor was largely free of other shipping with the exception of two other vessels. One was a large gray American dreadnought anchored ominously so that its two forward turreted twelve inch guns were pointed at the buildings of the city.

  Captain Earle, who had just lighted a briar pipe, pointed its stem at the war vessel. “That’s the Michigan, commanded by Captain Niblack. A good man in a pinch. The Michigan is one of our newer big fellows, about 16,000 tons, 452 % feet long and carries a complement of 805, including marines. She’s the sister ship of the South Carolina and can handle any foreign battle wagon afloat.”

  “I can believe it,” Seth said.

  “What’s that other big one over there, Captain?” Hand asked pointing to the other large ship in the harbor.

  “She’s German,” Captain Earle said. “The Kronprinzessin Cecelie, a passenger steamship owned by North German Lloyd.”

  “What did you call her?” Hand asked.

  The Captain laughed and translated for the Texan. “In English, she is the Crown Princess Cecelie. She puts in here regularly. In fact, she’s just run down from New York, beat us in by four days.”

  The Dolphin was now easing past a large spit or reef on her starboard. About a thousand yards from the reef’s western shore squatted an ugly forbidding quadrangular fort like structure. Its mere presence seemed to menace the sleepy environs of Vera Cruz across the breakwater.

  “A fort?” Seth asked.

  Captain Earle had a grim expression of distaste. “Once was—now a prison. Gentlemen, that is the infamous San Juan de Ulua. God forbid that you should ever fall into its clutches. The land on which it sits is called Gallega Reef.” He gestured toward the Mexican flag, flapping idly from the pole on the tower of the prison. “See that flag pole. That is where the last Spanish flag was lowered in Mexico in 1821.”

  Hand studied the prison through the Naval glasses, loaned to him by one of the sailors on the bridge. “Them fellers in blue and white striped outfits, working there on the dock, sure don’t look much put upon.”

  The Captain looked to where Hand was pointing and shook his head. “Those men are trustees and only a small percentage of those entombed in that place.”

  “Excuse me,” Seth said. “You used the word ‘entombed’?”

  “Best word I know how to describe them,” the Captain said. “You see, many of the cells are like pits dug down in the rock face of the reef with a small hole cut in the sea side of the cell. The prisoner is fed by lowering food from the top of the hole. At high tide sea water will mostly fill up the cell. If any of those poor souls ever gets released, which is highly unlikely, they will be more like deranged animals than human beings.”

  Recalling something from Croy Wister’s briefings, Seth asked, “Is this the place where Madero and Suarez were supposedly being transferred?”

  “To my knowledge they were being transferred from the Palace to a penitentiary in Mexico City. To change the subject, Gentlemen,” he pointed to a mountain peak. “That old lady almost rivals the beauty of Fujiama that I saw when the fleet visited Japan.”

  They looked at the distant opal colored partially snow covered peak that was piercing a layer of grayish white clouds. “Magnificent!” Seth murmured.

  “Yes it is,” the Captain said. “That is Orizaba and your train will go through one of her tunnels on your way to the Capital. That route, by the way, is the most important and probably the most dangerous train trip in all of Mexico. Bandits, and now Zapatista rebels, give passengers a pretty rough time, in spite of the federal army and the feared Rurales.”

  Seth and Hand exchanged glances. “You still think a bodyguard sounds stupid, Pard?” Hand murmured.

  Captain Earle continued his lecture. “This city isn’t much as port cities go, mostly built on sand dunes and hemmed in by marshy land. Incidentally, it was down there south of the city, that Winfield Scott landed his troops in ‘46.”

  The Dolphin’s engines suddenly stopped and immediately there was a shudder through the ship as the anchor chain began rattling out through the hole in the bow into the water. Then, except for a petty officer shouting orders to a working party, it was quiet on the ship. Toward the city, the late afternoon sun was already beginning to cast the few tall spires into sharp relief.

  “Welcome to Mexico, gentlemen.” Captain Earle said.

  “Thank you, sir for an enjoyable passage,” Seth replied

  “Our pleasure,” the Captain said. Looking at Hand, he asked, “And did you also have an enjoyable passage, Mr. Comfort?”

  Hand squeezed up his face in thought. “Well, Captain, there’s two ways of looking at that. You Navy fellers were mighty obliging, and that were enjoyable. But, sir, this here fine ship of yours, didn’t take kindly to my stomach and there ain’t much honesty in my saying that I enjoyed it.”

  The Captain smiled, “Perfectly understandable, Mr. Comfort.”<
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  “Captain, when do you think it will be possible for us to go to shore?” Seth asked.

  “If you and Mr. Comfort will secure your gear, I will have my launch standing by in twenty minutes. It will take you to Sanidad Landing where someone will undoubtedly meet you from the Consulate. Again, let me say it was a pleasure having you aboard the Dolphin. We will be putting out again in two days but will return in three weeks time. We will be here then to provide you with any kind of service you feel you need, including return transportation to the United States. In the meantime, I wish you every success in whatever your mission may be.”

  30

  THE CAPTAIN’S LAUNCH EASED up to the pier at Sanidad Landing and two of the boat crew jumped out and made fast the bow and stern lines. A curious throng of white-clad Indians in high peaked hats stood silently watching the unloading of the two civilians and their two pieces of luggage. Standing forward of the Indians, a short round man in a white linen suit and Panama hat approached and introduced himself as K.Y. Beamis of the American Consular Office in Vera Cruz.

  Seth introduced himself and Hand, then asked, “Are you the American Consul here, Mr. Beamis?”

  “I am in charge while the Consul is back in the United States on leave. Be assured, however, I was alerted to your arrival with instructions to see that your temporary accommodations and stay are as pleasurable as possible under the circumstances. Never mind your luggage, my man Felipe will see that it is transported to your hotel.”

  “Thank you, sir, but we don’t intend staying the night. We are quite anxious to get to the Capital as soon as possible and would like to get tickets on the 7:15 train to Mexico City. “

  The consular official seemed not to hear what Seth said. He snapped his fingers at a wizened old man, so frail looking that he would seem vulnerable to the slightest sea breeze, and pointed to Seth and Hand’s luggage stacked on the dock. “To the hotel, Felipe!”

  “Mr. Beamis,” Seth protested. “Perhaps you didn’t understand me. We are taking the train tonight.”

  Beamis was engaged in critically watching his man picking up the two suitcases and shuffling toward a small burro cart. Hand made to intercept him but Beamis said, “Do not worry, Mr. Comfort, Felipe will see that no harm comes to your luggage. He will personally deliver it to your hotel.”

  Hand looked questioningly at Seth, who said, “Hold on Hand. Mr. Beamis, let us get something straight. I repeat, we are taking the train tonight. We have no need of a hotel room. What we will need is transportation this evening for ourselves and luggage to the train depot.”

  K.Y. Beamis pursed his lips, giving a remarkable impression of a pouting fish. “I am not deficient in my hearing, Mr. Cane. I heard you the first time—quite clearly. In point of fact, you will not be taking any train tonight. Actually, you may not be going to the Capital by train for several days.”

  “In point of fact,” Hand said, “why not?”

  The consular official frowned at Hand. To Seth, he said, “Shortly after ten o’clock last night rebel leaders destroyed the track just beyond Maltrata. It was probably Zapatistas. So gentlemen, under the circumstances you will have no option but to accept the reservations we have made for you at the hotel—unless you prefer to sleep on the beach, which I don’t advise.”

  Seth looked at Hand and shrugged. “I reckon you have a point, Mr. Beamis. How long will it take them to fix the tracks?”

  “They said, maybe in two days, but this is Mexico, sir. I have booked a room for you and Mr. Comfort at the Hotel Terminus. The Diligencia would have been my choice, but it seems to be full up. The Terminus may not be as imposing,but it is a great deal cooler at night because of the sea breezes and it is but a stone’s throw from here.”

  “Don’t we have to go through customs or something?”

  “No, it will not be necessary to go through the Aduana there,” Beamis replied, pointing to a low dark shed at the end of the pier. “I have already cleared you because of your diplomatic status.”

  “Pardon me, diplomatic status?”

  “Now, if you will come this way to the carriage, we will get you to your hotel.” He led them through the crowd of Indians to a dilapidated excuse for an open carriage that looked as if it might have hauled personages when Spain ruled Mexico. The yellow leather on the seats was peeling and hot to the touch. To Seth and Hand’s disgust, they were driven a bare 75 yards across the sand to an ancient two-story frame structure, with a sign over the entrance reading in three foot high letters, “Hotel Terminus.”

  Five minutes later the three men entered the fly infested small dark lobby. Hand began to fan himself with his large brimmed cowboy hat. Gazing around, he grinned and said, “Danged, if this doesn’t remind me of that fine little hotel we once stayed at, across the border from San Felipe del Rio, except there ain’t any pigs running about the lobby.”

  Beamis looked sincerely distressed. “I had my clerk make the reservation. I’m truly sorry, gentlemen. The other hotel is really much nicer but, as I said, it is booked solid. I could invite you to stay with my wife and me at our home. Unfortunately, it is rather small and we already have a house guest.”

  “This will do, Mr. Beamis,” Seth said. “We will survive nicely. Besides, I hope our stay here will not be very long. Is it always this hot in Vera Cruz this time of year?”

  The little consular official paused in the act of wiping his forehead with a handkerchief. “Goodness gracious, Mr. Cane, this is actually the temperate season now. You will really come to understand the meaning of hot in Vera Cruz in the coming four months.”

  “We shore don’t hope to have that pleasure,” Hand said.

  “In point of fact, neither do I,” Beamis said. “The Mrs. and I devoutly hope to be transferred to a more comfortable climate. Now, I leave you both to get settled in. You are expected for dinner at eight thirty tonight at the Diligencia, as the guest of Mrs. Beamis and myself. That hotel is within an easy stroll from here. The desk clerk here will give you proper directions.” He offered a limp and sweaty hand to Seth and Hand, and left followed by his man Felipe.

  After signing the register, Seth asked the clerk what was the price of their room. The clerk replied, “Two pesos for each night, but Senor Cane, the bill has already been arranged for by Senor Beamis.” He rang the desk bell and the young bell boy hanging anxiously by the desk, presented himself with a smile. “Manuel, room 210, “the desk clerk ordered.

  They followed the bell boy struggling with their heavy suitcases up a staircase into a long wide upper hallway that was surprisingly cool. Their room was large, dark and sparsely furnished with two double-sized oak beds, two roughhewn wooden straight back chairs placed against the wall, and a small upright decorated stove of fired clay. Manuel called it an estufa.

  “Bet that thing doesn’t get much use in this town,” Hand observed and gave Manuel an American fifty cent piece, much to his grinning delight.

  “In point of fact, I believe you may be right,” Seth said. “Let’s see if we can’t get some light and air in here.” He went over to the two windows and pulling some brown drapes aside found the windows already open. There was no feel of the promised sea breeze. He stared out at the harbor at the three ships at anchor. What in blazes are a small town lawyer and an ex Texas Ranger doing down here? We don’t have the slightest idea how to go about this so called very sensitive mission. We are supposed to find out about our Ambassador’s involvement in two murders, without tipping off the purpose of our investigation Oops! I mean inquiry.

  Hand removed his white jacket and frowned at the dark sweat stains under the arms. Then he felt the arm pits of his white shirt. “Dang bust it, this is the only good one I got left.”

  “Maybe the hotel maid can do something with it.”

  “Sure, if this flea bag has a hotel maid.” He looked at the bed and dubiously shook his head. “Spe
aking of fleas, I hope there ain’t none in there.”

  “Wouldn’t be the first time for us,” Seth said. “The thought of fleas doesn’t bother me as much as something else.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Just this,” Seth said grimly, moving quickly to the door and jerking it open. Standing in front of the doorway was a surprised man of about thirty, wearing a worn brown suit that hung badly on his skinny frame. Wide eyed, he held up both hands in surrender.

  “Many pardons, Senors, I mean no harm, I’m just looking for my amigo who had this room last night.”

  “Why are you holding your arms up? “Seth said. “Look fellow, I suggest you check with the desk clerk.”

  “Gracias Senor, Thank you—thank you. I’ll do that,” he said, backing quickly away, his face showing unaccountable fear.

  Puzzled, Seth turned to see Hand sitting on the side of the near bed, holding his big 44 pistol. He turned to calm the man and saw him running down the hall.

  “Hand, do me a favor and try to be more discreet with that thing. For Pete’s sake, we are guests in this country and you just can’t go about brandishing that old gun.”

  Hand chuckled. “I reckon that jasper must have peed his britches. Do you think he was listening at the door?”

  “Don’t know, but I do know that he had been standing there about four minutes before I opened it. I thought I heard the hall floor squeak, that must have been when he first came up. But, you know, it could be as he said, an honest mistake because he was looking for his friend.”

  Hand snorted. “That dog won’t hunt, Pard. I bet he damn well knew we were in here, otherwise why didn’t he knock when he first came up?”

  Seth nodded. “Yes, his story was pretty weak. In any case we had better be more alert while we are down here. And, Hand, please put that gun away.”

  “Sure thing, Pard. I won’t draw, unless I have to.”

  Seth groaned inwardly. “Well, just remember where we are.”

  “That’s exactly the reason why I am going to keep it handy. Speaking of being alert, have you noticed something about this here room? They ain’t no locks on that door.”