Chapter 17

Thursday, April 16, 1891

Henry Fieldmont was addressing the Executive Committee. “I realize that the suit against the State of Texas requires approval by your full Board. However, what I’m recommending to be filed is not the suit, per se. Rather it is, as the name defines, a notice of intent to file a lawsuit. It does not obligate the railroad to any further action, including filing a suit of any kind, whatsoever.

“Even so, it provides us with one real and several potential advantages.

“The real advantage is that it establishes an earlier date upon which we can base any eventual action. This may or may not prove to be of actual value, but it does hedge our bet.

“Of lesser value is that the notice of intent alerts the opposition. On the one hand, it could make them worry, which is what we want them to do. On the other hand, it could just annoy them. But then, they’re trying to kill your Board Chairman; how much more annoyed could they be?

“Another advantage is that, if they’re smart, they’ll be thinking of what records must be assembled and what research must be done, and maybe get a start on it, especially if they’re concerned they may be liable.

“Finally, it may be all that is necessary to make them see the error of their ways,” Fieldmont concluded.

Arnie Yeats asked, “But wouldn’t we be losing any advantage of surprise?”

“No,” Fieldmont said. “It’s pretty hard to surprise any competent entity with court filings, at least to the point of gaining some actual adversarial advantage. Beyond that, the legal process itself tends to slow things down, with the purpose of allowing adequate preparation for all concerned. It’s one way our legal system attempts to build fairness into the system.”

Pottinger said, “So, this would be like sending your neighbor a letter telling him you’re thinking about putting up a fence.”

“Pretty much,” Fieldmont said.

Pottinger said, “I so move.”

Later, Fieldmont joined Castillo and Malik at the High Iron Club, a private men’s club primarily catering to the executives and upper-level managers of the local railroads and closely related businesses.

“Jonathan and I are coordinating our strategy with Judge Westcott,” Fieldmont said.

“The judge will lead off with a letter of inquiry to the US Attorney General regarding the lack of cooperation on federal warrants and the non-competent response to the federal court of appeals regarding the murder charges from the Eighth District for East Texas at Galveston.

“Then, anticipating the Kanzona Board’s approval, we’ll file the railroad’s suit the following day, Friday, June Nineteenth, with the federal court in Kansas City.

“Finally, ten days later, on the Twenty-ninth, Jonathan will file your personal suit with the state court in Austin.

“Meanwhile, after all the filings, I plan to be in touch with an attorney I know who works for the Texas Attorney General, see if I can’t wake them up to the problem they seem to have in the Rangers.”

All three men were drawing on Guardia Real cigars. Malik and Castillo had snifters of Besada el Cielo brandy de Jerez. Fieldmont was partial to the corn-based bourbons of the U.S. South. He was trying a South Carolina brand called Kosciusko’s Polonaise that was aged ten years in charred oak barrels...

Malik said, “It seems so absurd to have to go through all this trouble simply to get a law enforcement organization to observe the law.”

Fieldmont said, “Well, I know it’s not important to you, but at least you should get some money out of it. What especially disturbs me is how one federal court could deliberately work at cross-purposes to another federal court.”

Castillo said, “Hopefully, that was all due to an obsessed and bigoted old man who has now shuffled off this mortal coil.”

Fieldmont raised his shot glass. “Amen to that.”

(Thursday, April 16, 1891)

Sunday, April 26, 1891

Malik served Aspen her favorite piece, the chicken drumstick. Then he chopped up the meat from a thigh and split it between two small bowls for Thomas and Paul, who were seated in high chairs. Peng prepared a portion of green beans for each, while Beatrice spooned up some mashed potatoes and gravy. The latter would be reserved as an incentive for the children finishing the meat and green vegetable.

Beatrice said, “The legislature’s committee chairman tried repeatedly to commandeer the ballot measure, trying to convince Harriet it could be better handled in the legislature. Finally, he said that the legislature could simply assume control and remove the measure from the ballot, suggesting that more good will would be retained if our steering committee simply cooperated.

“At that juncture, Jonathan pointed out to the legislators that there was no such provision under the state constitution and that a ballot measure, once accepted, could not be removed for any reason.

Then Harriet said, ‘Mister Chairman, do you think women are stupid, or are you just in the habit of lying to them?’

“His face turned the deepest shade of red and he simply adjourned the hearing. We managed to hold our laughter until we were outside.”

Malik said, “I’m surprised you’re running into this much opposition. I expected some resistance, but not to this degree.”

“I’m not so sure the opposition is widespread, as it seems concentrated more in the party leadership. Unfortunately, they hold the committee chairs. But that’s why we decided to address this on the ballot rather than through the legislature.”

“When will you know if it’s been approved?”

They have to let us know by May fifteenth.”

“Did you have any trouble getting signatures?”

“Only in the north central part of the state, from Cabot, right up through Meseta, and on to Buchholz.”

“Cabot? I’m surprised.”

“In fact, it seems to be centered mostly around the Catholic diocesan offices.”

“Sure, I can imagine that,” Malik allowed.

“The problem is,” Beatrice rejoined, “we’ve heard rumblings that the bishop intends to mount an active campaign in opposition”

“Does he, now?”

“A priest who’s sympathetic with women’s suffrage told us the bishop will forbid communion to anyone who supports or votes for the referendum.”

“And how’s the bishop supposed to know that?”

“It doesn’t matter. For many Catholics, just the threat will be enough.”

Malik turned his attention to the boys, who seemed to have eaten their fill of the chicken and the green beans, and were just playing with the remains. Malik began picking up the pieces from their high-chair trays.

Aspen said, “May I have some smashed taters an’ gravy, please?”

“Sure, sweet pea, Mama Beatrice has some ready for you. How ‘bout it Paul? You and your brother want some mashed potatoes and gravy?” The boys’ eyes came alight, and they started calling and reaching for the bowls Malik had just removed.

Malik said to Beatrice, “I’ve been looking for a reason to go up to Cabot. I think I’ll seek a meeting with the bishop.”

Beatrice said, “Do you think that’s a good idea?”

“I’m sure the bishop will appreciate a box of Guardia Reals and a bottle of Besada el Cielo.

(Sunday, April 26, 1891)

Thursday, May 7, 1891

Malik carried a leather portfolio and the cord handles of a laden cloth marketing bag as he and Peng mounted the wide stone steps that led to the old Spanish cloister. The arch-enclosed building, adjacent to the cathedral, now housed the offices of the Roman Catholic Diocese of Arenoso.

He had arrived in Cabot late Wednesday night aboard the Chen Niao and had spent the night there. The Chen Niao did not have kitchen facilities and he had traveled only with Peng. They had taken their meals in the dining car while underway and had breakfast that morning at the Harvey House hotel and restaurant in Cabot.

Now he was on his way to an eleven o’clock meeting with Monseigneur Basil Bell, the bishop’s administrative secretary.

When they presented themselves three minutes early in the well-appointed diocesan reception office, they were only made to wait a moment. Monseigneur Bell, an older, somewhat wizened man with a stooped posture, soon came from the back offices to greet Malik, and the priest was equally gracious in his introduction to Peng.

As he led them back to his office, Peng whispered to Malik, “His eyes do not smile.”

As he was ushered into the prelate’s office, Malik said, “Miss Peng will wait here, outside the door, Monseigneur.”

“Very well, whatever you prefer, Mister Malik. Can I get you or Miss Peng any refreshment?”

“No, thank you, Monseigneur. We’re both fine.”

“Well, then, please sit down Mister Malik. This is Father Demarest.” Bell indicated a young priest sitting at a table in the corner, a few feet from the Monseigneur’s desk. “He is my secretary and will keep notes on our meeting.” Bell settled in behind the large and ornate desk while Malik sat down in one of the guest chairs in front of it.

Bell said, “I want to apologize that we have not yet appointed a pastor for Saint Francis of Assisi. We have been hurting for ordained priests, in recent months.”

“I understand perfectly, Monseigneur. As it turns out, it really hasn’t presented that much of a problem. One of the Jesuits from the mission school in Dorado Springs volunteered to come over on Sundays.”

“Oh, really?” Bell said, with a note of mild surprise. “I wasn’t aware.”

“We saw no reason to bother you with it. Our family has been making-do down there for some forty years, now.” Malik smiled, shaking his head. “It seems odd to consider that. My father and his partners initially grew the ranch to just a bit over one hundred square miles. Now my brother and I and our partners own and manage nearly five times that.

“But that’s neither here nor there. I’ve brought something for you and the bishop.” Malik lifted the shopping bag from the floor to his lap. From it, he extracted two tissue paper-wrapped bottles of Besada el Cielo brandy, which he placed on the desk. Then he produced two boxes of Guardia Real cigars, which he set next to the brandy.

“What’s this?” Bell asked, reaching for one of the bottles. “A brandy de Jerez? I don’t know this label.”

“I believe you will like it. If not, you can use it for cooking. And I’m trusting you to see that the bishop gets the other bottle,” he said with a smile; he turned to the priest in the corner and added, “Father Demarest, I call upon you to see that the Monseigneur does not deprive His Eminence.”

Demarest returned a thin smile.

Lifting a box of cigars, Bell said, “Now these I know. One of our major donors brought a box, just a few months ago.”

“I believe that was my brother, Andy, Monseigneur. He brought several donations. You might remember, he was accompanied by his wife, Christina.”

It was obvious that recognition had dawned at the mention of Christina, but then Bell reddened in apparent chagrin. “Of course it was,” he said. “How embarrassing to have forgotten such generosity. You will have to forgive me.”

“Give it no mind, Monseigneur. The relationship between the faithful in Jackson County and the diocese has grown quite complex and it is easy for misunderstandings to arise. That is my primary purpose in coming here, to help head off some potentially harmful misunderstandings.”

Bell looked perplexed. Even Demarest gave Malik an inquisitive look. Bell said, “I’m not sure what you mean, Mister Malik.”

“Oh? I was referring to the situation involving Fathers Liam and Drew Jones.”

Now Bell looked genuinely startled. “Drew Jones? How does this involve-- “At which point, Bell, realizing he had betrayed his supposed ignorance, cut short his question, replacing the startled expression with one of consternation

Malik sat in silence, directing a mildly inquisitive gaze at Bell.

Finally, Bell said, “As I was saying, Mister Malik, I’m not aware of any misunderstanding.”

“And yet you presume that only Liam Jones is involved in the misunderstanding of which you say you are not aware.” Having said this, Malik again resumed his quiet contemplation of the priest.

Bell put on an exasperated air. “I’m sorry, Mister Malik. I’m quite certain that there is nothing further we have to discuss, then.”

Malik had kept the leather folio next to him, on the chair. At this point, he brought it out in front of him, opened the clasps, and withdrew a single sheet of paper. It was a signed and witnessed statement, though the signature had been obscured. Malik placed the page on the desk and slid it, gently, toward Bell.

Bell reached for the paper, then turned it and began to read.

After a minute, Bell said, “This is quite a sordid tale, Mister Malik. Obviously the fevered imaginings of some perverse adolescent mind.”

“One might think so, Monseigneur, but I have three others in a similar vein from members of the boys’ choir and altar servers in Ranch Home.”

“Then it seems you have a problem with the children in Ranch Home.”

“Similar to the problem they had among the boys at Saint Brandon parish in Pueblo, Colorado? Or among the choir boys and altar servers at Christ the King parish in Liberal, Kansas? Is it just a coincidence that Liam Jones was assigned to those parishes, albeit briefly, over the last four years? By the way, I have similar sworn statements from each of those parishes, too. Apparently some parents can’t be bought off, permanently.”

“We would have no knowledge of what went on in another diocese, Mister Malik.”

“But you would know what’s going on at Saint Bonaventure’s in Brighamton, then, wouldn’t you. The sudden and unexpected departure of certain Father Mark McKeown left a number of similar allegations unanswered.

“And this is all with only one month of investigating, Monseigneur. I’d hate to think what might be discovered if we actually applied ourselves over several months.”

“I really have no idea what you are talking about, Mister Malik.”

“Yes, I’m sure, Monseigneur. But here’s how we’re going to work out our misunderstanding.

“For our part, that is, the parishioners of Saint Frances Xavier and Saint Francis of Assisi parishes in Jackson County, we will hold these and other statements and reports in confidence as long as the following terms are met.” He turned to Demarest. “I have these in a typewritten list, Father Demarest.”

He turned back to Bell and recited from memory. “First, neither the bishop nor anyone else affiliated with the Catholic Church will make statements or institute actions with the intent of interfering with our state election process. Specifically, I refer to the women’s suffrage amendment to the state constitution. Stay out of it.

“Second, the two parishes in Jackson County will have the right of refusal of any priest assigned to those parishes, within one year or their first assuming their duties. We will form parish councils to make such decisions. Father Drew Jones would not be acceptable and should not return. His personal property is already packed and will be shipped to the diocese.

“Third, if a pastor is not officially assigned within sixty days of a position becoming vacant, then that parish will have the right to recruit their own pastor. The sixty day countdown starts today.”

Malik looked up, momentarily. “This fourth requirement is not on the typewritten list, for reasons which will become apparent.

“Fourth, each of the four families in Ranch Home whose children were abused by that priest will be granted two hundred fifty dollars from the diocese, without obligation, the money to arrive within two weeks. It can be in the form of cash and from an anonymous source, if that method is preferred.

“Finally, I’ll add this verbal note. This agreement will be enforced within the spirit of its purposes, not in some hair-splitting, jot-and-tittle-twisting effort to avoid what’s obvious, so it would not be advisable to try to wiggle out of it on arguable semantics or grammar.

“And I’ll go one further. If we hear of any more child-molesting clergy being knowingly assigned to any parish, school, or other ministry in the diocese, then all bets are off. Such deviants should either be locked away from children or sent to that reformatory to which you sent Liam Jones in Ireland, and never to return.”

To Bell’s surprised glance, Malik said, “Oh, yes, we know both Liam Jones and Mark McKeown were put on the first boat to the Auld Sod. And we know about Saint Norbert’s monastery and the perverse nature of the men the Church sends there.”

Bell took in a breath and leaned forward, but Malik held up his index finger.

“Be that as it may, Monseigneur, I realize you are neither in a position, nor probably even willing, to admit to any of the literal crimes I have suggested the diocese has aided and abetted. To that end, and in the interest of keeping the time with your confessor to a minimum, I urge you not to make any false denials, but rather to make no response at all to my allegations. When the money arrives for the families, we will presume your compliance with the other conditions.”