by Mark Reps
"It's hard to believe Bede is a killer," said Zeb. "Next thing we'll be saying Father McNamara's death wasn't a suicide either and Bede poisoned him too."
"This is getting stranger by the minute. This whole thing might be far more interconnected than we ever dreamed of."
"What are you talking about, Kate?" asked the sheriff.
"I delivered a foreclosure notice out on the reservation to Beulah Trees not too long ago. With the foreclosure notice were some legal documents from a law firm in Phoenix. She couldn't read the papers because her vision is poor, so she took it into the tribal offices to have Eskadi look it over. He read it and, like you, smelled a rat. He started snooping around. It turned out the Phoenix law firm was dealing with Farrell's real estate office. Their client had an open option to buy the land as soon as it went into foreclosure."
"What does that prove?" asked Jake. "Farrell handled most of the real estate transactions in the area."
"It doesn't prove anything in and of itself. Hear me out. Later I went back out to Beulah's place with Eskadi. She had told Eskadi a story and he wanted me to hear it. A while back Father McNamara visited Beulah to find out if she wanted to sell her land to the Catholic Church."
"That's what I'd call a mighty popular parcel of land."
"But what's even stranger is Beulah told me there was another man with Father McNamara. She described him as a small man with tiny hands and glasses as thick as the bottom of a coke bottle," said Kate.
"Bede."
"She said the two of them drove up there in the biggest pickup truck she had ever seen. She said it had four wheels on the back instead of two."
"Bede's truck has four rear wheels. I noticed it that night of the meeting," said Jake.
"And, in back of Farrell's office, next to his parking spot, a vehicle with a double set of rear tires had been parked," said Kate.
"I think it's time we paid Doctor Bede a little visit," said Zeb. "Kate, you track down his license number through motor vehicles. Dig up whatever background information you can get on him. We'll bring him in for questioning. Find something for me. Come on, Jake. Let's roll."
26
Kate's fingers tapped nervously on the Rolodex. She needed information on Bede. She needed it now. The DMV was helpful in obtaining a physical description but not much else. Any possible info from state agencies would require more time than she had. A call to the Forest Service ended in a voice mail nightmare. Thumbing through the Rolodex, her finger stopped on the name of Elaine Coburn, her former mentor at the FBI Academy.
"Elaine, this is Kate Steele."
"Hello, Kate. It's good to hear from you again."
The old friends briefly exchanged pleasantries before getting down to business.
"I need your help, Elaine. I need some information, and I need it as soon as possible."
"This is your lucky day. If there is something I can give you, it's at my fingertips as we speak. We just got a new computer system installed. I am learning how to use it, so bear with me. What do you need?"
"Do you have a Dr. Venerable Bede on file anywhere?"
"Mind telling me what you're looking for?"
"Specific information about past history of criminal activity, if there is any, that is."
"Why don't you just get it locally? That information should be available to you on a state level."
"I need the information now, not next month."
"Let me see what I can do for you. Do you have a date of birth?"
"DMV states his date of birth as December two five, nineteen forty-seven."
"Driver's license number?"
"West Virginia. 5629345."
"I'll need something to cross-reference. How about educational information?"
"He has a doctorate degree in environmental botany."
"Okay, here we go. Hmm. This is interesting. Is he about five feet six inches tall, a hundred forty pounds, poor vision?"
"That describes him well. What was that hmm all about?"
"If the man I'm looking at on my computer screen is the same man you're talking about, he has worked with the FBI as a contract worker. We've used him as an expert witness."
"Do you know under what circumstances?"
"He testified in a murder case. The poisoning of a priest."
"What!?!"
"Your disbelief is duly noted. Here, let me read what our people say about him. There are two brief dossiers about him in this file. The first one reads as follows, 'Dr. Venerable Bede is a qualified expert in the area of botanical poisoning in both qualitative and quantitative analysis.' His Ph.D. is in the field of Environmental Botany from the Massachusetts Institute of Technology with special emphasis on plants of the southwestern United States. His dossier says he is usually available for immediate travel and should be considered a reliable and dependable witness. He has never been married, has no children, pays his taxes punctually, has no history or record of arrest and is a registered Democrat."
"It sounds like he is well thought of by the FBI."
"He's what we call a stray cat."
"What's that?"
"An oddball expert. He's one of those rare birds with a niche skill area who can be called upon at a moment's notice in unusual cases. How is he involved with your problem?"
Kate cleared her throat.
"You sound hesitant. Are you concerned about investigating someone the agency has used as an expert witness?"
"The implications crossed my mind. I mean, I doubt the FBI would like it if they had missed something significant in a person's background."
"Why are you looking into him?"
"He's a potential suspect in multiple poisoning cases...and murder."
"That does make it difficult."
"You said you had two dossiers. Can you read me the other?"
"I can brief you on it, but you can't use the agency as the source of this information. This is deep background from his psychological profile. This type of data is never released and is inadmissible in court. It's the in-house profile we keep on our operatives. It presents quite a different picture of your suspect. It says here that although he is a highly qualified expert in the area of environmental botany, the agency should be reticent about using his services. Your man, Dr. Venerable Bede, is of questionable mental status. He's obsessed with the priesthood of the Roman Catholic Church. He has a lengthy history of attempting to gain entrance into the Catholic Order of Saint Barnabus. His attempts have always ended in rejection based on a psychological profile of obsessive-compulsive behavior. Each time he was refused admission into the priesthood, he was hospitalized for mental exhaustion. There is a long history of priest mimicry, including the wearing of priest's garments, unofficial celebration of the Catholic Mass and simulation of religious sacraments.'"
"Did you say the Order of Saint Barnabus?"
"Yes. Ever heard of them?"
"Only recently. A local priest committed suicide. He was a member of the Order of Saint Barnabus."
"It might only be a coincidence, but remember the case I was telling you Bede testified in? The one with the poisoned priest?"
"Yes."
"The priest was also from the Order of Saint Barnabus."
"That is a pretty remote coincidence," said Kate.
A lingering moment of silence floated between the teacher and her former student.
"I guess you know what your assignment is, don't you?"
"Once a teacher, always a teacher," laughed Kate. "Anything else that looks relevant on your computer screen?"
"Just one more thing. I don't know if it will be of any assistance, but a footnote here says his first choice for postgraduate education was in the Astrophysics program at MIT, but he wasn't accepted. It appears he's done okay in botany. I'll e-mail the non-classified part of his profile to your office."
"Thanks a million, Elaine."
"One last bit of advice, Kate. If he is your man, make certain of it. Since he has worked for the agency, and if it tur
ns out he's a murderer, somebody's head is going to roll. For the time being, please keep my name as a source of information on the q.t. Good-bye."
"Good-bye and thanks again."
Kate put her head in her hands and rubbed her eyes. Eskadi had majored in Comparative Religion at Berkeley. He might know about the Barnabites. If he didn't, he would know how to find out quickly. She didn't need the Rolodex for his number.
"I didn't know you had such an exacting interest in the Catholic Church," said Eskadi.
"I went to Catholic school, but I never heard of the Barnabites until Father McNamara died."
"Well, Katie my dear, it just so happens I kept a lot of my old textbooks. Somewhere amongst them I have a Catholic encyclopedia. Tell me what you're looking for, so I know where to begin."
"This is going to sound crazy, but I am beginning to think there is a conspiracy involving the Catholic Church, the death of John Farrell, maybe even the death of Father McNamara and it all involves-"
"Mount Graham," interrupted Eskadi.
"How did you know I was going to say that?"
"There has been a conspiracy against all of the Apaches and our rights to Mount Graham for over one hundred years. The US Government forcibly took Mount Graham from the Apaches in the 1870's. We have been fighting for return of the sacred mountain ever since. They must have something really big cooked up this time."
"Why do you say that?"
"They have chosen some very powerful allies."
"What do you know that you aren't telling me?"
"I have been doing a little investigation of my own. Ever since we talked to Beulah Trees together, something has been rubbing me the wrong way. Remember when you served Beulah with a notice concerning her land being confiscated by the government?"
"It was being sold for back taxes. That doesn't fall into the category of confiscation," said Kate.
"Call it what you will," said Eskadi. "It was being taken out of Apache hands by the powers that be. The law firm in Phoenix was handling the purchase of the land through Farrell's real estate office."
"Yes, I remember you talked with the firm in Phoenix and to Farrell's secretary."
"The land was being purchased by a dummy corporation, a business venture whose sole purpose was buying land on Mount Graham."
"I suppose you're a lawyer now, too?"
"If it was honest work, I might have become one, if for no other reason than to defend myself. Anyway, I got to thinking about the dummy corporation and figured if they were doing business in Arizona, they would have had to file public papers. I got in touch with an old friend of mine who works for the Records and Deeds Department at the state government offices. I think you're going to find this information interesting."
"What is it?"
"The dummy corporation goes by the name of AIMGO."
"The sheriff has mentioned it."
"It's an acronym for American and International Mount Graham Organization. In addition, the local Catholic Church, the University of Arizona, the German government via the Max Planck Institute and the Vatican are somehow involved. You know as well as I do when big institutions join forces, they're usually going after something big."
"Eskadi, you have no factual basis for saying that."
"Maybe not yet, but I will. Whatever is happening on Mount Graham needs the sanction of the forest service, the federal government and even the county commission."
"You might be right, but you also might be acting just a little paranoid."
"To be an Indian is to be a lot paranoid. Besides, you know how the old saying goes, just because you're paranoid, doesn't mean you're not right."
"Keep snooping around and find out what you can. What about Geronimo Star in the Night or Ramon Hickman? They live up on the mountain. You told me they know everything that goes on up there. Have you talked with them?"
"If I do all your legwork for you, you are going to have to put me on the payroll."
Kate chuckled at Eskadi's suggestion. The entire town of Safford would be up in arms if the sheriff's office put an Apache with strong political views about the corruption of the White government on the payroll.
"I don't think Safford is ready for you yet. But if I ever get elected sheriff, I'll keep you in mind. Gotta run, I've got a lot of work to do. Bye."
As she hung up the phone, Kate began putting the pieces together. Zeb and Jake would return soon with Bede and she had work to do.
An hour later Zeb and Jake's boot heels crunching against the wood floor created an echo in the quiet sheriff's office.
"Did you locate him?"
"Neither Doctor Bede nor his pickup was anywhere to be found," said the sheriff. "His campsite is still occupied. He's around somewhere."
"Did you have a look at Bede's personal belongings?" asked Kate.
"Yes, what there was of them. He travels light."
"What did you find?"
"I'm not sure. I think he might be a religious nut. The interior of his tent was made up like the inside of a church. He had a miniature altar set up, a Bible, religious icons and even a set of priest's garments. It was strange. Other than that, he had a couple of changes of clothing, some food and his records and data for the Forest Service."
"You're right about him being kind of a religious nut. I talked with an old friend at the FBI, and it turns out they're very familiar with him."
Kate brought them up to speed on the background she'd obtained about Bede from the FBI.
"He's a nut case all right. But that is a far cry from proving him to be a multiple murderer. On the other hand, I think we should interview him first thing in the morning," said Jake.
"I also have some interesting information on AIMGO," said Kate. "American and International Mount Graham Organization. It's a dummy corporation put together for the sole purpose of buying up land on the top of Mount Graham. It's funded by the Vatican, the Max Planck Institute via the German government, the University of Arizona and the local Catholic Church."
"You get that information from the FBI, too?" asked Zeb.
"No, Eskadi's been digging some things up," said Kate. Zeb gave Kate a look of semi-distrust. "Don't worry, I'm running it through a filter."
"Good," said the sheriff. "Be certain about all of it."
"I will. When you were gone, Delbert called. He remembered something else about that night the three of you ate supper with Bede. When he reached into the cooler to grab a beer, he saw some plant roots and some vials of brown liquid. At the time he assumed they were part of Bede's work. Now he's wondering if they weren't poison," said Kate.
"Bede's beginning to look guiltier by the minute," said Jake. "Think about it. He's a certified expert in plant toxicology with special knowledge of plants from this area. It's damn unlikely he'd have given anyone water hemlock by accident. And, it looks like we can tie him to the death of John Farrell via the double tire tracks."
"That's a long shot," said Zeb.
"Don't forget he had dinner with Father McNamara the night he committed suicide," said Kate.
Zeb found himself wondering if he had made a major mistake by not ordering an autopsy on the deceased priest.
"First thing in the morning, we'll all go up and look for him," said Zeb. "We'll meet an hour before daylight at the office. I'll bring the coffee."
In the eastern sky, the light of a three-quarter moon greeted Zeb, Kate and Jake as they stepped out of the office. Above the glistening peaks of Mount Graham, a single star, seemingly alone in the western sky, pulsed radiantly.
"See that star?" asked Jake. "The ancient Greeks believed that star represented Thanatos."
"Thanatos?" asked Kate.
"Death," said Zeb. "Death."
27
"Sleep okay?" asked Zeb. "You look a little tired."
Kate slid into the truck's back seat. She grabbed the Styrofoam cup of steaming hot coffee from Jake.
"Two sugars and light on the cream, right? Jake handed her the fresh cups from the
Town Talk's first pot of the day."
"Thanks, Jake. As to your question, Sheriff, I slept fine, just not long enough."
"Good, time for rest in the grave, Deputy, especially when there's work to be done," added Jake.
Zeb reached over and turned up the radio. A sad country song came blaring out. Zeb looked in the rearview mirror and saw Kate rolling her eyes as his raspy, gravely-throated passenger joined in.
"Don't like the song?" Zeb asked.
"Not my favorite, but it's all right."
"Must be the singer then?" said Jake.
"No" laughed Kate. "I was just waking up slowly and thinking about a dream I had last night."
"My grandfather liked to interpret dreams," said Jake. "He called them the windows to the soul. What did you dream about?"
"My mother."
Both men knew the details about her mother's fatal car accident when she was a child.
"She comes to me sometimes in my dreams," explained Kate. "It is usually just before life changing events. This might sound crazy, but I think she comes to comfort me. It's almost like my mother, her spirit I mean, knows when something is about to happen."
"You want to know something?" asked Jake
"Sure."
"I don't think that's one bit strange. I believe in that sort of thing. In fact, I think the star we saw last night as we came out of the office may have influenced your dream. Thanatos may have been an omen," said Jake.
"What an odd thing to say," said Kate. "That sounds crazier than me thinking my dead mother's spirit comes to me in dreams."
"Remember the name Thanatos - death, the child of the night," said Jake. "The Ancient Greeks had a way of looking at things. In order to better understand the natural world around them, they sometimes created explanations to fit their observations. In many ways their logic makes even better sense today."
Jake's lectures on mythology were legendary around the sheriff's office. Kate had never heard one first hand.
"According to legend, Chaos was the first created person. Her children, Tartarus, Gaia and Nyx, influenced the Greeks in much the same way children influence us today. Tartarus, the God of darkness, reigned over the underworld, a horrible place where humans were punished for misdeeds on earth. Gaia, goddess of the earth, whom I believe is similar to the Ga'an of the Apache, knows all that is done on earth. Nyx was goddess of the night, mother of Hypnos, the Fates and Thanatos. Thanatos, child of the night, death."