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  CALL DOWN THE HAWK

  THE SPECIAL

  AGENTS

  RICHARD FOLMAR

  An historical nove

  Concerning suspected collusion

  by a senior American diplomat

  in two international murders.

  © Copyright 2005 Richard Folmar.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the written prior permission of the author.

  Note for Librarians: a cataloguing record for this book that includes Dewey Decimal Classification and US Library of Congress numbers is available from the Library and Archives of Canada. The complete cataloguing record can be obtained from their online database at:

  www.collectionscanada.ca/amicus/index-e.html

  ISBN 1-4120-5401-x

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  Contents

  AUTHOR’S COMMENT

  PROLOGUE

  1

  2

  3

  4

  5

  6

  7

  8

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  69

  70

  71

  NOTES

  Dedicated with love to Flossie.

  AUTHOR’S COMMENT

  THIS is THE SECOND OF a three volume series titled, Call Down the Hawk. It is the story of Seth Cane, a small town lawyer from Oklahoma who, through his actions on behalf of the nomination of Woodrow Wilson at the National Democratic Convention of 1912, becomes involved in the new Democratic administration’s problems with revolution torn Mexico.

  The Mexican Revolution, with only brief hiatus, such as during the Madero administration, began in 1910 and extended over a thirty-year period. During the three-pronged revolt against the Huerta dictatorship, American business interests as well as the United States Government were intensely concerned and often involved.

  The tragic events evolving from the ten days fighting in Mexico City are as close to being factual as could be determined from leading sources. Private conversations of historical personages represent the author’s best imagined efforts to be consistent with the known policies and positions of the historical persons involved.

  PROLOGUE

  ON FEBRUARY 9, 1913, SOME conservative units of the Mexican federal army under the leadership of Mondragon, a general under the ousted President Porfirio Diaz, together with Felix Diaz, the former president’s nephew, and Bernardo Reyes, rose up in Mexico City against the constitutionally elected government of Francisco Madero.

  In the ten days of fighting, known as the Decena Tragica, the federals and rebels suffered minor losses but the toll of civilian casualties was high, including some Americans.

  When the federal commander was wounded, President Madero, against the recommendation of his advisors, appointed General Victoriano Huerta commander of all federal forces. Huerta, instead of attacking Diaz and the rebels, arrested President Madero, Vice President Pino Suarez and Gustavo Madero, the President’s brother.

  Gustavo, who had warned his brother against the treachery of Huerta, was immediately tortured and executed. President Madero and Vice President Suarez were held under arrest at the National Palace.

  General Huerta telegraphed President Taft, “I have the honor to inform you that I have overthrown this government—from now on peace and prosperity will reign.”

  On February 22, the deposed president and vice president were taken at night from the National Palace to be transferred to Lecumberri Penitentiary, ostensibly for their safety. Arriving at that institution in two cars, they were shot in the back of the head when they alighted.

  That night Huerta was dining at the American Embassy with his friend the American Ambassador in observation of Washington’s Birthday, when he was informed of the killings. He announced that Madero and Suarez were killed accidentally in a failed rescue attempt by their supporters. Ambassador Wilson supported Huerta’s version, announcing he believed it was a true explanation of the event.

  The newly inaugurated President of the United States, Woodrow Wilson, was shocked and angered by Huerta’s unconstitutional seizure of power and the brutal murders of the Maderos and Suarez. He refused to recognize Victoriano Huerta as the legitimate head of the Mexican Government.

  1

  TRAIN TO WASHINGTON D.C.

  MARCH 3, 1913

  “I DON’T BELIEVE IT.” SETH Cane said. “Are you telling me that there are not two seats available on any of these trains leaving New York for Washington?”

  The harassed ticket clerk in the Pennsylvania Station, for what seemed the fiftieth time that morning, said, “”Sorry, sir. We’ve put on more than sixty extra trains to accommodate this mob and everyone of them leaving this city is completely filled.”

  The mob to which he referred was painfully evident everywhere in that main area of the station. Seth and Ginny had been keenly aware of it the minute they left their taxi at the entrance of Pennsylvania Station and were forced to merge with hundreds of train bound citizens, soldiers and sailors, band membe
rs in uniforms of all descriptions, and the brown and yellow attired women of the National American Woman’s Suffrage Association. They all seemed to be crowding toward the entrances to the lower level boarding areas for trains designated for the National Capital.

  “All of these people going to the Inauguration of Woodrow Wilson tomorrow?”

  ‘ “Most are,” the clerk said, “but, in addition we got all these ladies who are going to march today in Washington for that women’s vote thing. It’s got all rail travel to D.C. locked up to a fare you well.”

  It was painfully apparent to Seth that they should not have spent that extra week in New York City and caught an earlier train to Washington. It was just that Ginny was having such a grand time. Before leaving Oklahoma, he had promised his daughter those two weeks before moving on to her school in Washington. Every day of it had been worth the expense he could ill afford, seeing her shed her depression over Elizabeth’s death and resentment at being carted over half the country to a strange school, when she had begged to stay at her grandfather’s ranch in Texas. Dinners at Delmonicos, Broadway plays with the likes of George M. Cohan in Broadway Jones and Laurette Taylor in Peg-O-My-Heart, a suitcase full of new clothes from Lord & Taylors, Saks and B. Altman’s, had contributed to change all that. He hoped that it was also because it had been the first time since she was a child that they had really got to know one another.

  The clerk was still talking,” Those gals had requested permission to march in the Inaugural Parade but had been told no in plain terms. They hung tough and got permission to hold their parade today. I hear they is coming from all over the country for that.”

  “Are you sure you don’t have a couple of seats for me and my daughter?” Seth again asked the ticket clerk.

  “No seats but many are leaving with passengers standing in the aisles.”

  “All the way to Washington?”

  “Yep, if they really want to get there by today or tomorrow.”

  “Can you put us on a train leaving today under those conditions?”

  The clerk looked at a chart. “Well, if you can make it, the Jersey Limited leaves in thirty minutes. Do you want to try it?”

  Seth looked at his daughter. “How about it, Ginny, can we manage to stand all the way to the Nation’s Capital?”

  “Sure, nothing to it,” she said with a grin.

  Even standing room was scarce in their coach and they were forced to occupy space almost at the back of the aisle.

  They had no sooner crossed the Hudson, desperately trying to cope with the side to side lurching of the car, when unexpected gallantry presented itself in the form of a lanky, rumpled young man in English tweeds slouched in the aisle seat right beside them. He looked up from his copy of the New York Times , murmured an indistinct apology and half rose to offer his seat.

  “Ah—right. Wouldyouobligeme Miss?”

  Surprised, Ginny replied, “I beg your pardon, sir.”

  He frowned and repeated the invitation.

  Ginny looked up at her father, confused.

  “I believe this gentleman is most kindly offering you his seat, Ginny.”

  “Quite right, young lady,” said the man with a grateful look at Seth. “Does she have a hearing problem?”

  “Well, for corn sake,” Ginny snapped. “If you would speak English like everyone else! For your information, I do not have a hearing problem, thank you!”

  Still trapped in a half risen posture from his seat, he replied, “Miss, this is becoming a bit awkward. Do you want my seat or not?”

  “I prefer to stand, thank you.”

  “As you so choose,” he said with a shake of his head and dropped back into his seat.

  Seth intervened at this point. “I suggest you accept this gentleman’s offer, Ginny. It’s a long way to Washington and, if you don’t object, Mr. Keith-Kingsley, I recommend we all take turns at your seat, thereby giving each of us a bit of relief.”

  The young man stared at Seth in surprise. “I say, have we met?”

  “I am Seth Cane, a friend of Miss Molly Langdon. It was a brief meeting last July—one evening at the Rennert in Baltimore. You were escorting Molly.”

  The young man nodded in recognition. “Of course, you were with Ambassador von Bernstorff and his assistant naval attaché. Oh, yes, by Jove, you were also with that stunning young woman. What was her name?”

  “Miss Annaliese Faver,” Seth replied. Out of the corner of his eye he caught Ginny’s quick look of inquiry at him.

  “Your capital suggestion on sharing the seat is an excellent idea.” He looked askance at Ginny.

  “You are most gracious, sir, and I will accept your seat—at least for awhile.”

  “Finally,” Alan Keith-Kingsley muttered, and began to ease himself out into the crowded aisle. There wasn’t much space between him and the vacated seat, as Ginny in sliding past brushed up against him. That was deliberate, Seth thought. Alan’s face colored with embarrassment and Seth gave him an apologetic smile.

  “Mr. Keith-Kingsley, may I present my bewildering offspring, Ginevra?”

  “Please, it is just Alan,” and bending down toward the now seated Ginny, he said, “My pleasure, Miss Cane.” At that moment the coach lurched sharply and he barely saved himself from pitching into her lap by clutching the back of her seat. He ended up with their two faces barely six inches apart. Seth glanced at his daughter. She is actually enjoying his embarrassment!

  As Alan recovered his balance, she said, “Oh, do please call me Ginny. Are you going to be in Washington long, Alan?” Thunder! My fifteen year old daughter is flirting with that Englishman, and he doesn’t even know it.

  By the time the train pulled into Wilmington, the two were standing in the aisle chattering away like old friends while Seth was enjoying his turn in the seat. From what Alan was telling her, he had just been at a trade conference in New York. He explained that he had been a staff member at the British Embassy in Washington for almost two years. He added that his family home was in Dorset, in the west of England, and that his father kept stables and a stud farm. He didn’t bother to add that his father was a member of the English peerage and held a high position in the government. It would have been unimportant so far as Ginny was concerned since that bit about the stables and stud farm was more than sufficient to capture the niece and granddaughter of two Texas ranchers. For the rest of the trip the talk was of horses and their shared passion for riding.

  At first amused, Seth soon lost interest in their conversation. After he dropped Ginny off at her mother’s aunt and uncle’s where she was to live while attending school, he needed to work out some type of plan. Tomorrow, Woodrow Wilson would be the first Democrat to be sworn into that office in sixteen years. He would very much like to be present, having worked for his nomination in the Baltimore convention. Unfortunately, he doubted there would be time. He had wired Bill Murray his acceptance of the job in Bolivia and arranged for passage leaving New York four days from now. All he had to do was to see the Oklahoma Congressman in Washington for last minute instructions, and, more importantly, to get from him a check for his initial expenses.

  Then there was his promise to visit the Langdons, Congressman Henry Dalworth, his wife Bessie Mae and their daughter Molly, all long time Texas friends. He could hardly avoid that.

  He had already surrendered his initial intention to look up Annaliese Faver. It would serve little purpose. It was obvious that what had happened in Baltimore was never to be more than an isolated incident.

  The massive concourse of Washington’s Union Station under its tinted blue glass ceiling was a scene of colorful activity. Platoons of brown and yellow gowned suffragettes trooped through to an assembly point outside the station. They were led by volunteer guides who met each train of new arrivals. Adding to the crowds and the intensity of the noise level we
re several uniformed marching bands debarking from trains and heading for the outside doors.

  Ginny, her eyes dancing with excitement, pointed to a large contingent of handsome young men in grey uniforms marching past. “Wow! Who are those soldiers, Daddy?”

  Seth shook his head. “Sorry, Ginny, I don’t know. They sure are a smart looking troop.”

  Alan said, “They are cadets from VMI.”

  “What’s a VMI ?”

  “Virginia Military Institute—a military school, something like your West Point. I read where they will be marching in the Inauguration Parade tomorrow.”

  “This is so wonderful. May we watch this parade, please?”

  It was already commencing to form up. Alan said the suffragettes were to move out at 12:00 noon and proceed down Pennsylvania Avenue toward the White House. Seth groaned mentally. He had been afraid that Ginny would ask to watch ever since getting off the train. Alan supported Ginny’s request, pointing out that this might indeed be an historical moment worth observing.

  I reckon I do owe it to Ginny, to watch this today. “OK, people, we’ll take in this parade, at least for awhile, if, Alan, you will stay with Ginny while I scare up a red cap and send our luggage by taxi to her Great Aunt Eudora’s house. Do you have more than that small book satchel?”

  “No, this is all I have and it will be no problem to keep it with me.”

  2

  FINDING AN EMPTY CAB SEEMED hopeless at first, then unexpected good fortune when one pulled up right where he and the red cap were standing. Seth asked the red cap to put their luggage in the back seat while he wrote out the address of the Larimers’ home at 1615 P Street NW and handed it to the driver along with a dollar bill. It was then he became aware of a ruckus between his red cap and a sharp faced small man in his fifties, who had climbed in the back seat of his cab and was trying to force their luggage out of the car. He was being resisted by the red cap.

  “No, sir, mister, I was told to put them bags in there by that gentleman and you got no call to push them out!”

  Seth intervened. “Hold on there! This cab is taken and that is my luggage you are trying to throw out.”