“Any ideas of who might be the rabbit that we should chase?” Ivory asks.
“Maybe even non-Indians. We hear from the wind that the Window Rock people from Washington don’t want to think of these murders as being connected. They don’t want you to think of a conspiracy. That would be what we want—no 1491ers conspiracy, but why do they want that? Who gets money? When white people invade Diné Bikéyah [Navajoland], we always think that it is about money—oil drillers, hard rock miners, traders, and the like. What kind of things are at issue in this election? Who would benefit from us 1491ers being falsely accused?” asks Toh Yah.
The following morning, the Navajo Department of Criminal Investigations police officers—including Police Chief Ney and Captain Hootsohnii—and McGee and his partners, meet in the Blue Mesa police headquarters in the Painted Desert to discuss what they have learned thus far. McGee, Caitlin O’Brian, and Ivory White tell much the same story from their interviews with the 1491ers—no one thinks there is enough evidence that the murders were committed by radical back-to-the-good-old-days activists to make a case against them yet. Lt. Begay and Dodge give the same story, but consider the probability that everyone they have interviewed has a self-seeking agenda. Still, it is difficult to believe there is a conspiracy of the size that would have to exist to sustain the lies. Certainly not every Indian on the reservation condones wanton murder of their own people, even if they have policy disagreements. Nobody knows what to make of the antiquarian warrior on the pale horse. Nor is there is a person in the room who believes that each of the murders is separate from the others. Another point of agreement is that they might be receiving misinformation to frame the 1491ers to deflect investigation away from somebody else or some other group. McGee makes an oblique suggestion that they probably should start looking into other motives … like money.
Naalnish and McGee note that neither Chief Ney nor Captain Hootsohnii has a lot to say in the gathering. Naalnish knows that the Navajo Nation Police are funded by federal contracts and grants and general Navajo Nation funds, and the chief has to toe the federal and tribal line. He also has to report to Window Rock.
“Let’s just continue what we’re doing,” Naalnish says once all of the reports are given. “We can meet again in a week.”
Chief Ney thanks everyone for their help and once again cautions that each of the murders is to be investigated separately. He leaves the meeting room before the rest.
“Wait up a bit,” Lt. Begay says. “I have an idea or two we should investigate.”
“I was afraid we were going to be stuck in a rut looking only at the 1491ers,” McGee says.
“I have to confess two things: first, I have been disobeying orders from Window Rock by even investigating the 1491ers; and second, I have had my head in the sand not looking at other possibilities.”
“What do you want us to do, now, boss?” Dodge asks.
“You talk to the people on the Save the Minds of the Navajo Children NGO and get a better handle on who is actually behind the intimidation. I also want you to look into everything you can find out from the res people about all of the candidates for office in the upcoming tribal council and presidency elections. What do those people want? What are their platforms? Who funds their campaigns? What are those campaign contributors after with the influence they are buying?
“Caitlin, I understand that you are a great computer analyst and very intuitive. I want you to set out on a very secret quest. Look into all of the records for Leland Biakeddy and his supporters, Assistant U.S. Attorney Douglas Stone, and all of the members of the tribal council in Window Rock. Let’s see if they have any association with the oil people. The oil companies have been trying for years to get a better toehold on the reservation; so, they can tear up Navajoland to get at the oil they are sure is just hidden underneath the red sands. We need their financials. Do Biakeddy or Stone have secret accounts—Switzerland, Cayman Islands, or anything like that? And, this is the biggest secret of all. Get the same info on the chief and Captain Hootsohnii. Something’s rotten on the res, and I want to know who and what.”
“Ivory, please take it as your job to find out who this rider on a pale horse is. I don’t know that he is the murderer, but he certainly has something to do with the killings. I would give my left thumb to be able to have a serious chat with the guy.
“McGee, I know that you are the best interrogator around. How about you and I go back and find out if somebody in the Yazzie, Biakeddy, or Kieyoomia families knows anything about financial shenanigans or attempts at undue influence by outsiders. With Caitlin’s help, you and I are going to look into the financials for the members of the tribal council. Once we have something, we will make a trip to Window Rock to interview the council members in person. That will be tough. I might get fired just for suggesting such a course of action. You are an outsider, and there’s not much they can do to you.”
“Except murder,” McGee says. “Look, if we get that far, I think it would be a good idea to bring along a feeb. This is looking federal, and I know the SAC in Phoenix. Our firm did a little off-the-books work for him in a touchy police corruption case a couple of years ago. He said he owes me a favor. Maybe this is the time to collect on my marker.”
“One thing at a time, McGee, but that sounds like where we’re headed,” says Naalnish.
Chapter Ten
Yaz Hootsohnii leaves the meeting with Lt. Begay and his assistants a little shaken. The first thing he does is to make a call to a private cell number in Window Rock.
“AG Stone.”
“Douglas, this is Yaz. I need to give you a heads up.”
“Go ahead, Yaz. Must be important.”
“I think so. I just got out of a report meeting with Naalnish Begay, Dodge Maryboy, and some off-the-record assistants he has brought in. He’s still pursuing the reservation connection—the idea that the 1491ers are in a plot against the school system people who want to modernize education here.”
“That’s not exactly news, Yaz.”
“Nothing that we wouldn’t have expected, Douglas, but he’s a bright guy and dogged as anybody I ever met. He’s starting to think about other conspiracies—like things may be connected to the election, maybe to the oil or mining companies, and maybe even non-Indians.”
“Did he mention me!?” Assistant Attorney General Stone says more excitedly than he should have.
“No. They don’t have anything specific, no names. They don’t even have a specific theory, but they are starting to look beyond the 1491er theory that the schools hold the motive.”
“So, you’re being paranoid, Yaz. You have to calm down. Sounds like things are not getting out of hand.”
“Look, Douglas, even paranoiacs have enemies. Don’t ever discount Begay’s tenacity and smarts.”
“Well, keep me posted. If it looks like he is too much of a rabble rouser, I’ll get him reassigned to Crownpoint, New Mexico, or Halchita, Utah.”
The Utah portion of the Navajo reservation is 1.2 million acres and has a population of 5,500. There are vast empty areas without telephone service or roads. The incidence of crime there is miniscule, and most of the crimes are associated with public drunkenness or DUI. Halchita is such a place.
“Crownpoint, I know. Where’s Halchita … never heard of that one?” Yaz asks and laughs.
“Crownpoint, New Mexico, is as far away from here as possible and still be on the reservation. Halchita has about fifty people. It is on the res near Mexican Hat, and the best thing about it is that Utah just established a landline phone system. There isn’t any cell service. I’ll make sure that our overzealous tribal policeman, Lt. Naalnish Begay, gets the office in the broom closet—the nicest one in the local office.”
“I still don’t think that will shut him up.”
“Then, I’ll just have to get him fired,” Stone says with a voice full of unmistakable grim determination.
As soon as Capt. Hootsohnii hangs up, Asst. AG Stone has his secretary
call Lt. Begay to another meeting in the AG’s office in Window Rock.
Lt. Begay and McGee take their morning to call all of the surviving members of the Save the Minds of the Navajo Children NGO and their families to come to a meeting in Blue Mesa. Naalnish decides to have the meeting away from police headquarters to avoid curious onlookers putting two-and-two together about the purpose of the meeting between police and the NGO members.
Forty-one people show up at the Catholic school adjacent to the Sacred Heart of Jesus church in Tuba City.
McGee poses the question: “We have murders of people in your organization and, right now, we can’t be sure why you are being targeted or by whom exactly. It may seem apparent that extremists of the 1491ers fundamentalists are behind it for the obvious reason that they don’t want you to teach non-Navajo information to the reservation Indian children, but our investigation hasn’t come up with a clear picture. Nobody in the Nation that we have contacted has any good idea who might be behind it. They have no idea who this mysterious rider on a white horse is who seems to be present whenever there’s a murder. It seems obvious that your organization is being targeted, but why? We need some help in looking for answers.”
Asdzáá Yazzie is the first to speak up, “You guys gave me a grilling, like it might have been me that killed my wife—just a marital disagreement gone wrong. I suppose you grilled the Kieyoomias and the Biakeddys as well. How far did that get you?”
“Not that far, but we are still pecking away. We haven’t made up our minds about any motive or opportunity yet.”
Emmi Kieyoomia, Hyrum Kieyoomia’s wife, suggests, “Maybe it’s all related to the upcoming election. We always have trouble when we elect a new president or get rid of one who is a crook.”
Delphine Biakeddy Bahane’ adds, “Sex, money, and revenge. Aren’t those the main causes of murder? Maybe what’s going on is an elaborate smokescreen related to one of those motives. I have to say that it seems to me like the guy on the white horse might just be a stalking horse for whoever is behind these murders. I don’t hold with most of the conspiracies that fly around the res, but maybe this really is one.”
“All good ideas,” Naalnish says. “How about you getting out and talking to your clans and let’s see if we can get some serious leads. The first thing I want to know is who this old Indian rider is. Is he the killer? Is he just theater or is he a stalking horse like Emmi suggests? Give us anything you can find about financial approaches by big business or anyone seeking undue influence on the Council or the candidates. That would be more likely for the Biakeddys to know something about. Everybody take one of my cards and get back to me with anything you learn, okay?”
It is a relief to the Biakeddys, the Kieyoomias, and the Yazzies to be working with—rather than feeling persecuted by—the NDCI [Navajo Department of Criminal Investigation]. The forty-one family members contact 386 people in their clans over the next three days using the clans’ internal calling trees. The Biakeddys gets hold of the Kinyaa’1anii [Towering House People], the original clan of the related Dzi[t’aad7 [Near the Mountain Clan] and its offshoots, the ‘Azee’tsoh Dine’4 [Big Medicine People], the T2zhii Dine’4 [Turkey People], and the Bit’ahnii [Folded Arms People]. The Kieyoomias have connections to the Hon1gh1ahnii [One-Walks-Around original clan] and its associated T0’1h1n7 [Near-to-Water people], the Ta’neeszahnii [Badlands People], the Hashk’aa Hadzoh7 [Yucca Fruit-Strung-Out-in-a-Line People], the Nihoob1anii [Gray-Streak-Ends People], the Ts’ah Yisk’idnii [Sage Brush Hill People], the Dzi[t[‘ahnii [Mountain Cove Clan], and the Dzi[N1’oodi[nii [Turning (Encircled) Mountain People]. Asdzáá Yazzie contacts his and his wife’s family clans and his grandfather’s original clan—the T0d7ch’7i’nii [Bitter Water Clan]. The prodigious effort bears fruit.
Dodge talks to the Save the Minds of the Navajo Children members and gets a list of hardcore haters among the 1491ers. There are few surprises there: about half of the medicine men, mostly those of the age past seventy, the far-flung dwellers of the wastelands whose children were forced to attend the reservation schools and to absorb the foolish and unnecessary American and foreign information they don’t need on the res, and malcontents who have had run-ins with the police or the school system over problems not necessarily related to the curricula of the schools. He spends his three days culling out the harmless malcontents from the truly serious enemies of progressive education. He narrows his list down to three—one for each day of effort. They are: Leland Biakeddy, the medicine man, Tsosie Halne’é, and a man whose name had not surfaced previously, Shilah Squint-eyes of the Yoo’0 Dine’4 [Bead People]. He gets enough information to be able to track Shilah to an address located near the Tse’bii’nidzisgai Elementary School in Monument valley. He contacts the reservation office in Blanding, Utah, to help him find the man. He presumes that he has nothing more to gain by further interrogating Biakeddy or Halne’é, but the Squint-eyes lead seems promising.
Caitlin O’Brian’s computer hacking skills rival the Rossiyskaya Mafiya teenagers who infiltrate personal, financial, military, and governmental systems with impunity. She is as focused and indefatigable a person as anyone who ever lived once she sets out to get all the useful information that is pertinent to the question at hand. Her three-day concentrated effort would have daunted a lesser investigator, but Caitlin finishes with a six-page summary of the financial, personal interrelationship, business association, and suspicious connections of nine people: Leland Biakeddy, a strange character named Shilah Squint-eyes who calls himself “Son of Haashkeneinii”; Douglas Stone, the assistant attorney general serving the Navajo Nation; Hok’ee Ney, chief of the Navajo Tribal Police; NDCI Captain Yaz Hootsohnii, who is Naalnish Begay’s immediate supervisor in Blue Mesa; Snow Owl Lee, and Flower Woman Little—who are sitting tribal council members and the only women on the council—and two other council members, Harrison Bitsui, and Jacoby GreyCohoe. The only non-Indian whose name comes up often enough and suspiciously enough to make Caitlin’s list is the Desert Oil Corporation executive vice president named John David Carlsen. Her choices are backed up by 351 pages of support material, attached as an appendage to her report. She starts her fourth day of investigation digging deeper and deeper into the lives and interactions of the nine.
Ivory White and Dodge Maryboy drop everything they are doing and obey Lt. Begay and McGee to leave Blue Mesa for Monument Valley. The news about Shilah Squint-eyes comes from several directions—Dodge himself, Caitlin, and from a woman of the Yoo’0 Dine’4 [Bead People], named Gabriela Sani, who reports to the T0’1h1n7 [Near-to-Water people], clan leader, who gives Iina Kieyoomia a call. She tells Iina of a sighting by her brother of Squint-eyes that morning in Blanding. Dodge calls Abner Cartwright, the police chief in Blanding, to ask him to put Squint-eyes under surveillance, but not to arrest him until Navajo Nation NDIC officers can get there. He asks if they would mind calling in his old friend, UHP Sgt. Cliff Moon, and they have no complaint about that either. Naalnish gets Captain Tall Hunter, Dodge’s previous division captain, to authorize a police helicopter, which is granted, and avoids having to alert Captain Hootsohnii to what is going on. Naalnish is now operating on a basis of deep distrust of his own immediate superior.
Dodge and Ivory land on the heliport behind the city building and police department. Blanding is a very small town—population about 3,500. Probably the best building in the town is the city-county building at 167 East 500 North. It is a utilitarian blocky two-story sand-colored brick building. Sgt. Moon, and Chief Cartwright come out to meet them. All of the men are in full combat protective armor and armed adequately to take down a mob.
“He’s in his house,” Chief Cartwright tells them. “We have the place surrounded, but we have made sure that he hasn’t seen us yet. The BL&P [Blanding Light & Power] has shut off his phone line. We have a no-knock warrant from Judge Apachito. We’re ready for an arrest.”
“We don’t know how violent he is,” Maryboy tells Cartwright and Moon. “It i
s absolutely crucial that we take him alive. He may be a crucial link in our multiple murder case.”
“We’ll do our best,” says Cartwright, “but the safety of my men is my most important concern.”
“We don’t have any problem with that, but let’s make a try.”
Six police vehicles with lights flashing and sirens blaring surround the dilapidated old house and the Tse’bii’nidzisgai Elementary School. Helmeted men storm the house through the front door, back door, and three windows. A terrified Navajo woman and three children cower in terror behind a living room couch that is tattered and filthy. The children scream.
“Where is he?” demands Chief Cartwright.
The woman is dressed in an old but clean squaw dress woven by the woman herself on her blanket loom. The dress is as simple as clothing gets—two small blankets laced together at the sides, leaving armholes and openings at the top and bottom like a poncho.
Death on a Pale Horse Page 7