In fact, Spud thought, the three of them probably didn’t know much about anything. They were just punishing the women who ran away and scaring the others into compliance. Unwitting cogs in a very large machine, ignorant players in an international white slave trade they most likely knew nothing about. That was Spud’s guess. Agent Dan’s, too. For a moment Spud almost felt sorry for them, but the memory of Agent Dan’s pain, the women they killed, and the hurt and fear they caused Adam and Maria made that impulse pass quickly. Ignorant, yes. And dangerous. Extremely dangerous.
“Daydreaming?”
Spud jumped at the sound of Mabel’s voice.
“Whoa, I didn’t hear you coming. You’re down early.” Spud sat up straight and put his hands on the desk as though he needed a solid surface to hang on to. “No, just thinking about how stupid those brutes are. And dangerous.”
“Right on both counts.” Mabel sat down. “Amelia said you had some phone calls?”
“Two,” Spud nodded. “Hal called from Santa Fe. Said he was hearing rumors there that someone was pressuring the governor to stop the raid this morning. He wasn’t sure who was doing it. The rumors didn’t say. But you know Hal. He hears everything. Everything important, anyway.”
“Everything unimportant, too. Hal Bynner doesn’t discriminate between the two. News runs straight into his ears and out through his mouth.” Mabel laughed. “And the other call?”
“Another friend in Albuquerque. Said he heard the Bureau is getting pressured there and in Washington, DC to call off its troops on this case. Odd, don’t you think?”
“Depends on who’s doing the pressuring.” Mabel leaned forward. “More interesting than odd. Your caller didn’t say?”
“Thought it might be coming from our state representative’s office.”
“Cutlass! Steven P. Cutlass!” Mabel expelled a burst of air. “Odious man. Of course, it could be Cutlass! He’s behind every evil in this state. Corruption, fraud, graft. Jovial meanness, that’s how John Collier described Cutlass. Opened mining up to huge corporations to strip this land, like the moly mine in Questa, and refuses to do anything to help the pueblos. He’s single handedly blocking John and Tony from regaining Blue Lake for the pueblo. Indians, women, Mexicans, they’re all dispensable. Only money has meaning for him. Only money flowing into his pockets, I should say.”
“Cutlass? You really think so?” Spud pushed back from his desk. “I was thinking Manby. I’ve heard so many rumors about Manby. He’s a madman and some say he beheads his enemies.”
“I’ve heard that, too,” Mabel acknowledged. “Some of the people he’s dealt with have disappeared. No question he’s land-crazy and a cheat. He wants to own all of Taos valley, thousands of acres.” Mabel’s expression turned grim. “He’s after power and money as much as Cutlass is, but I don’t think he’d traffic in women and he wouldn’t have much sway with the governor. Cutlass would. Cutlass is more powerful than Manby. And less crazy.”
“Maybe they’re in it together?” Spud speculated.
“Possible. If Agent Dan is right, what has been happening with these women in Red River is extremely lucrative.” Mabel rearranged the papers on Spud’s blotter without looking at them. “I don’t know about Manby,” she declared after a moment, “but I’m willing to bet Cutlass is involved.” She paused. “And right this minute I’ll bet he’s in a panic.”
Adam woke slowly. A glance around the small room reminded him that he was at Spud’s, in the same room where he spent the night before setting out for the ranch. He was the same person in the same room, but how much was not the same. He held up his hands and inspected them, first one, then the other. He no longer felt pain in his shoulder and he could easily hold a brush and apply paint just as he had, but he wondered now what he would choose to paint and how he would approach his subjects.
Only a week had passed, but Adam felt twenty years older, heartened by knowing Maria and saddened by the men who had imprisoned her. Such fear and violence those ignorant brutes created. But Adam also felt blessed. He was the one who first interfered with their plans and gained Maria’s freedom. Amazing. All his life he had been the lightweight, the laughing-stock, the one not chosen to play baseball, not included for afternoons at the movies, not invited to have a beer with buddies. In fact, except for fellows like Spud, he had no buddies.
Wonderful Spud. Adam rolled over and closed his eyes. Spud must have gone to Mabel’s already, he decided. He visualized Mabel’s face, her intelligent eyes and knowing smile framed by short dark hair. He had heard a great deal about Mabel before he accepted Spud’s invitation. Most of what he had heard — that she was cantankerous, loved to start rumors and create havoc, and, of course, that she was rich — most of it was true. But now that he was here, he saw another side, the side that kept Spud working for her. Warm, generous, thoughtful, kind. And odd, Adam grinned. Odd enough to be interesting, just like Spud and everyone else there. Odd almost seemed to be a requirement at Los Gallos.
Adam had heard a great deal about Spud, too. That Spud had grown up in Greeley, just as Adam had. That he left Colorado for Berkeley, where he met Hal Bynner, a wealthy poet, and then moved with Hal to Santa Fe, the same Hal Mabel claimed had single handedly “homosexualized” Santa Fe. And presumably Spud, too. The same Hal who introduced Spud to every literary person in New Mexico, including D.H. Lawrence, and took Spud with him and the Lawrences to Mexico. And finally, when Hal and Spud broke up, Spud left a very angry Hal and moved to Taos to work for Mabel.
And now, because Adam had heard all these things, here he was, too. No longer a lightweight in this crowd but a hero. Adam laughed out loud. The future was bright. Maria would marry José, and Adam would return to the ranch to paint glorious things. Just the idea made him happy. A very happy, very odd hero. Adam closed his eyes again and, almost immediately, fell back asleep.
Edith found Willa already dressed and reading the loose pages of her manuscript in one of the rocking chairs on their portal.
“You said you weren’t going to start working on the novel again until after I left for New York.”
“Just having a look. Calms my mind when it reads well, you know. And it does now.”
“Here,” Edith held out the tray she had carried from the main house. “I brought you hot coffee and cold toast.”
“You must have gotten up at first light.” Willa accepted the tray with a smile. “How did you do that? It was such a late night.”
“It was.” Edith nodded and took the other rocking chair. “And I’m sleepy again. Agent Dan got up before dawn and with the whole lot of federal agents is on his way to Red River. Exhausting just seeing them off.”
“Do you think they will find the women there?” Willa sipped her coffee.
“I doubt it.”
“I do, too, but they should be able to gather incriminating evidence at The Watering Hole. There and at that hole of a hunting camp. I hope they go there soon.”
“We never really had a chance to look around at the hunting camp, and from what Agent Dan said, he had planned to return for a closer look when he was shot.”
“Miserable place.” Willa paused. “I’d suggest taking the horses out again later this morning, but I don’t ever want to go back there.”
“Nor do we have to.”
Edith studied the face of Taos Mountain, rising high above the cottonwoods that flanked the acequia. Mabel had covered a huge area between those cottonwoods and the main house with flagstones and edged them with a series of large pigeon-houses, almost Victorian in their ornateness. Homing pigeons, Edith guessed. Interesting birds, whose cooing added comfort to the medley of other animal noises at Los Gallos. So lovely, the big pueblo-like house that reached high above the cottonwoods. And so restful, the sound of the pigeons after the cacophony and chaos of federal agents milling about there at dawn. Whatever they found in Red River, Agent Dan and at least some of his fellows would return to investigate the repulsive hunting camp and to transport their p
risoners to Albuquerque for trial at the federal courthouse.
“Nor do we have to,” Willa repeated Edith’s phrase, rocking back in her chair. “Agent Dan and the Bureau can handle whatever comes next. The murderers are in jail, the ranch is secure, young Adam and Maria have their futures before them, and justice will be served.”
“Justice, yes. Not something I was certain about when we first arrived,” Edith nodded. “And not as simple as hanging someone in effigy.”
“A good deal more satisfying, I’d say,” Willa chuckled. “I’m glad we had a hand in it.”
“Maybe now the sheriff won’t be so complacent about a woman’s death.”
“A Mexican woman’s death,” Willa specified. “And then two more Mexican women. All violent deaths.”
“Was it because they were women, do you think, or because they happened to be Mexican that caused the sheriff to be so casual?”
“Could be either. Could be both.” Willa’s expression turned thoughtful. “Maybe now at least men like the sheriff will take a woman’s death seriously, and men like Agent Dan will realize the importance of gathering information directly from women. And in circumstances like these, from women like Maria.”
“You’d think by now men would understand that. We finally do have the vote, after all.” Willa shook her head and patted the manuscript on her lap. “It will be a relief to get back to the intrigues of seventy years ago, you know?”
“Mmmm,” Edith smiled, “your archbishop listens to women like Maria.”
“Yes. Some worldly women he doesn’t. But my archbishop is guided by the Feminine Principle. If he doesn’t listen so well at first, he learns to listen, especially to women like Maria and the natives who befriend him, his Sada, the poor Mexican woman he rescues, and his guides Eusabio and Jacinto.”
Sheriff Santistivan came out of his office and glared toward the door to the jail cells. He had heard about enough out of that boy they called Blade.
“What on earth is that idiot whining about now?”
“Says he wants something better than beans and rice,” Emilio looked up. “Been shouting like that for the last half hour.”
Blade was so dumb, Emilio explained, he had shot himself in the foot and couldn’t put his boot back on. He had been banging on the cell door with that empty boot and shouting nonsense ever since the sheriff brought him in.
“Who does he think he is, Billy the Kid?”
The sheriff retreated to his office.
“Put a call in to Albuquerque. Tell the feds I want them to take these crazy criminals off our hands right now.”
Emilio covered his ears with his hands. The other two prisoners the sheriff brought in from the ranch near San Cristobal looked a lot tougher, but at least they were quiet.
They were too quiet when Agent Dan had come in to question them, the sheriff said. Agent Dan left knowing little more than when he arrived. The sheriff said that was because these men didn’t know anything more than what they were told to do. They didn’t even know who their real boss was. But, the sheriff told Emilio, there was a boss. Someone had to be smarter than they were to run an operation as big as Agent Dan said this one was.
When the shouting finally stopped, Emilio reached for the phone.
“No one’s here to come after your prisoners,” the voice on the other end of the line said. “All our men are up there. We even brought in extra agents by train, just so Special Agent Dan would have enough men for his raid. What’s happening with that? We need to know. There’s a lot of people around here who don’t want this raid to succeed.”
Emilio didn’t know how to answer. He had no idea what was happening. And he didn’t know what the man meant about this raid not succeeding.
“Well,” the voice finally said, “you’ll just have to wait until Agent Dan comes down off that mountain. He’s running this operation, and he has all our available men with him.”
Emilio hung up the phone and opened the drawer to his desk. He took out the little silver cross Agent Dan had told him to hold in their evidence room, the evidence room that turned out to be Emilio’s desk drawer. Emilio ran his finger over the cross, feeling for the edge that had been rubbed until it was shorter than the rest. He wondered about that, as he had since Agent Dan handed him the cross, but he had no answers. He guessed he wouldn’t have any until Agent Dan came back to collect his evidence.
Emilio put the cross back in his drawer and folded his hands on the top of his desk. The sheriff would not like what he had to tell him.
Adam stopped for a few minutes on his way to the main house to check on Smokey, whose ears pricked forward at the sound of Adam’s voice.
“Smokey is good as ever,” José assured Adam. “The mule, too. They will be ready to go to the ranch when you are.”
“Glad to hear it. I did give them quite a workout.”
“Sí. You and Maria, too. Lucky you were not hurt worse.”
Smokey came over to the corral fence to nuzzle Adam. Blade’s horse joined Smokey, but the mule hung back until she saw the carrots in Adam’s hand. Then she nipped Blade’s horse in the haunch and pushed her way to the fence.
“They will stay here for now. Señor Dan said he would bring the other men’s horses down from the ranch later. And all their tack and whatever they find at the hunting camp where Señor Dan was shot.”
“This is all so complicated.” Adam scratched behind Smokey’s ears. The horse responded by rubbing his head against Adam’s good shoulder. “We have no idea how many men are involved or how far their scheme reaches. Agent Dan seems to think they might be shipping these women as far as Denver. Or Chicago. Or even New York!”
“I heard him tell his men California, too.”
“They treat those women like cattle, just ship them to the highest bidder.” Adam shook his head.
“Maria is lucky you saved her.”
“We’re all lucky. The timing was lucky, too. If Spud hadn’t sent me to the ranch and Maria and I hadn’t come down the mountain just when we did, Agent Dan might not have realized that the ranch was involved. And if Willa and Edith hadn’t found that hunting camp, well that, too, seems to be important. Otherwise, Agent Dan would be looking at Red River only, and Spud is guessing they will find nothing there but an empty saloon.”
Spud saw Adam pause to pet Jamie on his way across the courtyard. As usual the cat was hanging around the pigeon houses, an endless source of fascination. Adam straightened up and started to walk around toward the kitchen. Spud decided to join him.
“Glad to see you slept in.”
“Slept like the dead.” Adam grinned.
“Glad you aren’t among them, though.” Spud clapped Adam on the shoulder. Adam didn’t flinch. “Much better, are you?”
“Almost no pain left. Sleep heals, I guess.”
“Maria is mending, too. She was busy helping Amelia in the kitchen this morning when Agent Dan was getting ready to head out to Red River. Seemed very excited by all the goings-on.”
“Agent Dan gathered his posse?”
“Sure did. Federal agents from all over. If anyone is still at The Watering Hole, they’ll bring them in.”
“You still think they might be gone?”
“I think we saw the last of them taking off in that touring car.”
“But that wasn’t in Red River.”
“No, but that car was in such a hurry, my guess is they were pretty sure we were coming. And if they knew, whoever was in Red River would, too. Agent Dan said the two guys who were still at the ranch when we got there were preparing to make a run for it. They just hadn’t had a chance to make their get-away.”
“Wow, you mean we were almost too late to catch them? What luck.”
“I’m not sure luck had much to do with it. If Willa and Edith hadn’t pushed Agent Dan into going when he did, we wouldn’t have found anyone there to catch. But they did and we did. And then you and I saw that car slipping away through the trees.”
“What l
uck,” Adam insisted.
“Well, yes,” Spud nodded with a smile. “I guess that part was luck.”
Mabel Dodge Luhan’s Los Gallos
Dinner that evening was the most festive Edith could remember at Los Gallos. Mabel and Tony were in their matched finery. The royal blue and lavender that twined through Tony’s braids reflected the vivid colors in Mabel’s dress and shawl. Their guests were equally colorful in “dress-up” clothes, though as Spud once teased, dressing up in New Mexico usually meant putting a belt on your jeans.
The dining room was filled with guests, children as well as adults. There would have been another dozen, all men, Mabel laughed, had she been able to invite all of the agents who participated in the raid on Red River, but all but three were on their way to Albuquerque, taking the prisoners from the Taos jail with them. A fact that greatly pleased Sheriff Santistivan, Agent Dan added. What pleased the sheriff even more was that Agent Dan and the remaining agents planned to return to the ranch and the hunting camp to retrieve horses and evidence. The sheriff had to do nothing more about the murders of the three women.
When all the guests were seated, Edith realized that Mabel had invited everybody she and Willa had seen during their visit. Andrew Dasburg and Ida Rauh and their sons sat at one long table with the Fechins. John Collier’s family filled another. Willa, Edith, Spud, and Adam were interspersed with Agent Dan and Long John Dunn at the main table between Mabel and Tony. It was, Mabel declared, an evening to celebrate.
Mabel even rose to give a little speech. She wanted to thank each of their heroes — Willa, Edith, Spud, Adam, John Dunn and, of course, Tony — for their courage and determination. It was they, Mabel declared, who proved most helpful to Agent Dan in apprehending the murderers in their midst. And it was Agent Dan who set in motion the forces that would finally bring to justice all those involved in an international conspiracy to kidnap, transport, and enslave the women from Mexico.
Death Comes Page 23