Chasing Pancho Villa (20 page)

“The cowards. Assassinos!” she said with a scowl.

“Who?”

“Those hombres in Columbus and El Paso. Those who also sell weapons across the border. They want to get rid of us. Maybe they wanted revenge for when we burned down their warehouse,” Maria told him.

“Did Juan know anything about this?” he asked, still examining the note.

“I told him to watch the jail. In case of problems, he could send a message back to me.

“Did he know I went to the jail?”

“Juan's nephew, Miguel, saw him in the saloon where Juan usually goes to play poker after work, and told him about your message. Juan said he went after you. To warn you to stay away.”

“To warn me of what?”

“Juan knew that Daniel was coming to Columbus to speak with the constable,” Maria explained. I sent him a message. I wanted him to watch out for my brother. When Miguel told him in the saloon that you were going there, he wanted to stop you.”

“Did he say what he saw at the jail?” Harrison asked.

“Juan told me he heard gunshots and saw Daniel, and then you, ride west from town.”

“Who in town knew that your brother was coming to the jail?”

“We told only Juan. I think maybe he told his nephew,” Maria said thoughtfully.

“Do you know what happened in the constable's office before I got there?”

“Daniel said there was a bad fight and the lights went out. Carlos beat the constable with his gun. Daniel said he tried to stop him, but it was too late.”

“Do you believe him?”

“Yes. Daniel is my hermano,” she answered.

“I don't think the killing was a mistake,” Harrison stated. “I think Carlos planned to kill him. But I don't know why.”

“Daniel did not know that. He could not have. And Carlos was not hired by me or my brother to kill a lawman. It had to be an accident,” she insisted.

“Maria, it looks to me like a trap. But for what, I don't know,” he shrugged. “Who found the bodies?”

“Juan said he saw a group of men come out of the saloon where the soldiers drink. They heard the shots and headed straight for the jail. They found Carlos and Constable Arnold.”

“Who would have wanted the constable killed?” Harrison asked, thinking.

“I don't know,” Maria said. “Someone worried much about him and they killed him to keep him quiet. Maybe they wanted to kill my brother with the constable. But you came too early. That's why I believe you are good luck for us, Harry. And fate was kind, yes?”

“Fate?” He smiled. “It's all about gun smuggling.”

“Sí,” Maria said.

“You have dangerous competitors.”

“Sí, Harry. Where there is much money, there is always danger.”

“Now a dead lawman. That's very serious.”

James smiled. “I am in debt to you for saving my life, Maria.” He looked into her dark brown eyes. “I love you.”

She touched his cheek softly with the back of her hand.

“It was Juan who saved you,” she said finally. “He followed you into the desert, but he lost you in the darkness. Then he came to me for help. As soon as we could, we left to search the area where Juan said you might be. For hours, my men and I looked for you, and my heart was breaking. We even used lanterns and risked being caught. But we found you, Harry. You were in the secret wash that we use to cross the border, and we found you just in time.” She bent down to hug him, holding him tightly in her arms.

“This is a different world,” Harrison said. “But it's where I want to be right now. We'll find out who is behind this,” he told her, sounding determined.

Maria looked at him, alarmed. “More than just a few are smuggling guns across the border. It involves many. Some are very powerful Americans. They want more than dollars. They want power. Important people from Chicago, New York, Washington. Because of them the war in Mexico goes on forever and for them it is not about the people or liberty. They seek power to control minerals and oil. And the people of Mexico. They are very dangerous.”

“Washington?” Harrison asked.

“Sí. Políticos. The war here is good for them. And I think some want the Germans to win the great war in Europe, so they keep the fighting along the border from ending. To keep the American Army here.”

“And my brother was involved in all this intrigue,” James said, amazed at all the subterfuge.

“Bart was investigating for your Presidente, as I told you before. He did not care much about a few missing rifles. He was looking for more important people.”

“Not gunrunners, but spies.” Harrison said slowly. “Who are they, Maria? Give me their names.”

“I do not know their names. But if I did, I could not tell you,” Maria answered.

“Traitors who spy for the Germans?”

“Dangerous men,” she repeated. “That is why we must be very careful. They can kill us easily if they think you are after them. I will not allow you to die like your brother,” she added fiercely.

“But the danger for you is really other smugglers—your competitors. Do I have that right?”

“Yes, Harry.”

“I must return to Columbus,” Harrison said.

“No, Harry. Not yet,” Maria said concerned. “Mr. Jones tells me there is a warrant out on Daniel. And for you, my love.”

“For me? I was only defending myself. And who besides Juan knew I was even there?”

“Only two shots were fired. One from your pistol killed Carlos from your,” Maria said, concerned. “They say there were witnesses who saw you and Daniel run out of the constable's office and ride away. And your pistola? We do not know what happened to it, Harry.”

“I think I can clear all this up. I just need to get back to town,” Harrison said.

“Oh no, you cannot go back there. Not yet. Wait and we will find a way,” Maria said, pleading. “Too many people want you now, I think. They've set a trap with no escape.”

“What kind of trap?”

“They wait for you. When you arrive, you will be arrested. Then, who knows what they will do,” Maria said, trying to frighten him. “The white man who rides with the Negro Washingtons?”

“Gun runners, rebels, and spies,” James said, smiling tightly.

“Yes!” She looked at him. “When he does not expect us, then we will take care of this bad hombre,” Maria said. “We must be patient.”

James stared at her, not used to being put off. But before he could protest, Daniel entered the room.

He ignored James and spoke to his sister. “Maria, we are ready,” he stated, and waited impatiently for her to respond.

“Yes, Daniel,” she answered. “We will be there shortly.”

“We're waiting,” Daniel said, and turned to leave the house.

“Waiting?” James asked. “For what?”

She kissed him on the cheek. “Today, there is a big deal worth many thousands of dollars that requires everyone. When that is done, we will find your brother's killer.”

“Thousands of dollars?”

“El Presidente Carranza offers a great reward to anyone who can break the American blockade and deliver weapons to General Obregón. The others have no weapons now, but I have worked out a plan to have guns for the general. I made a deal for the most modern rifles. So we have a good chance to make money.”

“Maria, I have money. You don't need to take any dangerous risks.”

“Harry,” she told him with love, “I owe a debt. And I have a plan. It is a good plan.” Maria looked out the window at the rush of activity in the courtyard.

“A plan?” Harrison asked. “Where will you get the weapons?”

“The Japanese have guns to sell, my love,” she said with a smile. “We are going to ship arms across the Pacific Ocean, through the blockade, and up the Mexican coast.”

Harrison was almost awed

“I see. Then you are going to deliver those rifles to the pro-German government of Mexico?”

“Not exactly,” she said.

“What do you mean?”

“General Obregon believes he will get the guns, but he will not.” She winked at him.

“No?” Harrison asked, confused.

“He will not get the guns because Villa will see to that.” She smiled. “But, we will get the money.” “I cannot tell you how I will do all this, querido. I am not yet certain.”

“Villa will just take the guns and hand over the money to you?”

“Of course,” she said. “He will have his guns, and I will redeem my honor and my life. That is my plan.”

Harrison stared at her. He could not think of anything to say.

“Harry, if he doesn't get them then he will surely lose.”

“Then we will all be dead. Is that it?”

“Look out there,” she said. “This is the beginning.”

Harrison watched her men assemble the train of wagons.

“How do you plan to get Japanese weapons to Villa through the American blockade?”

“We, Harry.” She kissed him on the forehead. “You and I are going to do it.”

“Now I'm a gunrunner,” he mumbled.

“You are a good businessman,” she answered seriously.

He looked at her and smiled.

“We must move quickly,” Maria told him.

“Move where?” Harrison asked.

“We go to the ocean. We ride with our wagons empty. “My plan must work. Come, Harry. The men are waiting for us.”

“Who else knows of this other part of the plan?”

“Only Mr. Jones. You must tell no one,” she insisted. “And now we will do a little play acting.”

Harrison nodded.

“But later, when we have our shipment, you will meet with that German officer who killed Bart's spy.” He advises the Mexican Army,” Maria told him as they walked to the door. He will meet us at the ships, and take the weapons,” Maria said, as the two walked into the courtyard to join the others. “We will receive our payment at our meeting with him.”

“What about the rebels?” Harrison asked.

“Don't worry, Harry, they are hiding in the mountains,” she answered, now standing with the men. “They run from General Obregon.”

James stopped to consider. He was still not convinced enlisting in her new adventure was a good idea. His business was across the border, in Columbus. Yet this German may just be the person he needed to speak with. He may hold the clues to Bart's investigation and his death. And I cannot allow Maria to go on this adventure without me, James thought. If something happened to her…. I have a duty to her, as well as to my brother. He had made his decision.

“Well then. I guess I'm now a smuggler, as well as a murderer and horse thief,” he said with a weary smile.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

An hour later, in the early morning darkness, six riders surrounded a train of seven heavy wagons, each driven by two well-armed teamsters. They had departed the walled hacienda and were following the well-worn road to Ascension, then through the Sierra Madres. The big grain wagons were each pulled by a team of six mules. The train moved faster than Harrison had expected.

The wagons were partially loaded with sacks of grain. When he asked why, Maria said, “The Indian people are starving. Six years of war have destroyed almost everything but the oil fields. This grain will guarantee our safe passage through Yaqui lands.”

Harrison felt good being out in the country. He was a bit saddle sore, but his injuries had healed. The cool, dry air refreshed his skin. Maria had given him a brightly colored, woolen serape to hang over his thin cotton shirt. She had managed to rescue his felt hat, although by now it was severely worn, with the bullet hole and stains from his own blood. He had mended the hole, creased it, and reworked the brim. Fashionable enough for a gunrunner, he smiled. His .32 Colt was lost, but Maria had provided him with a new model Colt .38, much heavier than his own weapon. Harrison had carried one before and knew what it could do.

Riding next to Maria at the head of the train, Harrison looked over at his companion. Like him, she was draped in a serape. Hers was green and yellow. She wore no hat, and her pistol was riding high on her narrow waist. Boots covered her denim trousers to the knees. She rode her mount gracefully, something only a very experienced horseman could do in the rough terrain of northern Mexico. Seeing Maria poised on the stallion, he thought her a figure of exquisite beauty.

The column moved as quickly as the wagons allowed, until finally reaching the edge of the Sierra Madre Mountains. Around midday they entered a small, isolated settlement of adobe huts situated in the foothills. It was the first village they had encountered. Here they stopped to water and rest the horses and mules. Harrison looked around the Indian settlement, a dozen small adobe huts spread out around a central area. He saw garden plots with broken stalks of corn, brown and withered, just beyond. Dogs barked everywhere, announcing their arrival. He saw no horses.

At first, the adults stayed away from the village center. Only the children gathered around the riders as they dismounted. Finally, recognizing Maria, both men and women left their thick-walled adobe houses to greet her. The Indians had chopped, shoulder length black hair, and were dressed in brightly colored homespun cotton. They stood around the wagons. Harrison felt uneasy and stepped closer to Maria to protect her.

“Don't worry, Harry.” She touched his arm. “They are friends.” She motioned to her brother, who walked to the back of the lead wagon.

“Venga!” he yelled, waving to the men from the village. He threw back a canvas cover to reveal sacks of grain stacked three deep.

The men gathered around the wagon, but waited. Finally, an older man approached from behind the group. He stood directly in front of Daniel. Holding something in his hand, he began to speak.

“Who is he?” Harrison asked Maria softly.

“He is the Elder,” she whispered. “He is thanking us for the grain.”

When the chief finished speaking, he handed Daniel an object wrapped in sheep skin. Daniel unwrapped it. He held it up. It was a wool blanket woven of many bright colors.

“Gracious,” Daniel said. He had taken off his sombrero and held it at his side.

The chief bowed, and then waved for the others to come forward.

*

They rode across the rough lands and mountains of Sonora, then down into the desert again. After three more days of hard travel, they met and followed a road near the sea. Late the fourth day, they arrived in Guaymas, on the Gulf of the California coast.

The night before arriving at their destination, Maria unexpectedly rode off toward the east. The hour was late. She had told Harrison nothing. He spent the time she was gone raging and walking around the camp. Shortly after dawn, as the sun inched above the mountains, she returned.

“God damn it,” he said to her.

“Yes, my love?” she answered, smiling.

“I worried about you. Anything could have happened. They could have kidnapped you.” Harrison did not bother to mask his anger.

“You are right,” she said, pulling him into the shadows, kissing him. “But they did not.” She wrapped her serape around both of them, then she fumbled with Harrison's belt. “Now,” she whispered. I must have you now, my love.” She threw off his belt and reached into his trousers.

Harrison's anger quickly dissipated. He unbuckled her gun belt and let it drop to the ground. Then he reached up under her blouse, feeling for her breasts.

Both giggled while they removed their boots and jeans. “Shhh,” Maria whispered. “Or Mr. Jones will catch us.” Both were naked from the waist down and still standing. Harrison's hands moved across her body, massaging.

“Hold me,” she whispered in his ear. “Hold me and I will take your anger, my love.” Maria jumped into his arms, wrapping her legs around him.

He held her by her thighs, bracing his back against a small white pine, while she slowly raised and lowered herself.

““We must be fast, my love. But not so very fast,” she said. Then she kissed him hard on his lips, holding his head in her hands.

*

The trip had been wearing for both riders and beasts. Arriving in the seaside pueblo of Guaymas late in the afternoon, Maria immediately found the single hotel.

“Stay with the men and make sure the mules and horses are rested, fed, and watered. And here is money to buy food for the men,” she ordered, giving Jose a handful of Mexican silver dollars. “Be ready to leave by sunup.”

Daniel and Harrison followed her as she climbed to the veranda of the wood and adobe two-story hotel near the waterfront.

“Look there! Out on the water,” Maria said, pointing at a pair of two-masted schooners anchored a hundred yards off shore in the azule waters of the Gulf of California. “Those are our ships. Daniel, tell Mr. Jones that the ships are here,” she ordered. “He will know what to do.”

Daniel walked rapidly away.

“Here waiting for us, Harry,” she said, smiling happily at him. “This is a very good sign.”

“They gave the American gun boats the slip, Maria?”

“The cargo came in on an ocean liner. We moved the guns to smaller boats—these sailing ships,” she told him as they entered the lobby of the hotel. “The Americans did not see.”

“You planned well.” Harrison took her arm. Things would work out, he thought.

“The gunrunners are expensive, and very greedy,” she said, fretting. “They will take some of our profits.”

As they walked together to the front desk, someone called out for Maria. “Fraulein Washington. Welcome!” A light-complected man came face to face with the two. He wore a gray uniform, beautifully tailored to his slim figure.

“Colonel Von Moltke. How nice to see you,” Maria replied in a soft, feminine voice. She held out her hand.

The officer delicately lifted her fingers and bowed over them.

“I am most pleased to see you. And on time, too,” he said with a German accent. “Ja, and your associate?” He straightened up to look at James.

“This is Mr. Harrison James, colonel.” Maria saw a twitch on the German's scarred cheek as he looked directly at Harrison.

“James?” Von Moltke asked as he held out his hand.

Harrison guessed Von Moltke to be about 40. He had a narrow face with sandy brown hair cropped close to the skull. Although blue like his own,, Von Moltke's eyes were more like those of Harrison's mother—hard and pitiless. Two scars slashed across the pale skin of each cheek. A thin, arched nose dominated the skull-like face. The narrowest of mustaches slashed across his upper lip. He was otherwise clean-shaven, and by the sharpest of razors, Harrison noticed. “Bartlett James was my brother,” he said, releasing Von Moltke's hand.

“Captain James, sir? Ja, I met your brother.” The cold, blue stare held steady. “I was sorry to hear he died. Most unfortunate. A worthy adversary,” Von Moltke added.

Harrison nodded in return. The colonel was a German aristocrat, he knew. He had heard the family name mentioned in European political circles. He recalled many Frenchmen still discussing Von Moltke the Elder in reference to their defeat at the hands of the Germans in 1871. For all his perfect manners, there was something frightening, almost grotesque, about Von Moltke the Younger. “Are you related to Helmuth Von Moltke, Chief of Staff of the German Army?” Harrison asked.

The German obviously was surprised that Harrison knew anything about the German Army. “He is my brother, sir. Do you know him?”

“Only of him, sir.”

Von Moltke insisted they have tea and relax before any discussion of business. As they sat in the dining room,Von Moltke dominated the conversation. “It has been difficult to train these natives to be good soldiers,” he stated with contempt. “They have no appreciation of discipline.” He looked at Maria as he spoke.

Harrison looked at Maria for her reaction. He was unprepared when, suddenly, soldiers converged on the table with rifles aimed. Harrison attempted to pull his revolver from its holster, but stopped when he felt the cold barrel of a rifle at the back of his head.

Colonel Von Moltke, watching the two of them, smiled thinly. “Please, Herr James, give me your weapon. And yours, too, Fraulein Washington.” He held out his hand.