Force of Blood (34 page)

“Rebury my people.”

“
Na-do-we-se
are yours too?”

“They deserve no less.”

“Who buried them originally?”

“We did,” Huronicus St. Andrew said, huffing up to his son, breathing heavily. “All that stuff about a road of skulls and such, that was all crap made up by those few who ran away from the fight, got back to their people, and didn’t want to come back this way again. Even after the battle, it took twenty, thirty years for our people to move back to Bawating. I told you my son was a good boy, Service.”

“Your vision for the future working today?” Service asked Santinaw.

“It don’t work that way, paleface.”

Sedge knew the judge, convinced him the whole lot were flight risks, and no bail was allowed.

Delongshamp began to crumble first. He claimed he and Bolf had not been involved in the artifacts business to start with. Their sole interest had been big cervids for a dealer in Texas, but the big deer they had trapped died en route, and they had buried it near his late sister’s cabin. One day Service drove him out there and he pointed out the grave immediately.

The horse parts were from the vehicle they stole to transport the live deer. Because they had the animals, they butchered them and sold them in Milwaukee to a Hmong restaurant owner. They buried what was left at the site of the old fishing village.

“Planning,” Delongshamp said. “Ain’t our forte.” He’d learned from his late sister that Marldeane was making beaucoup money from stolen artifacts, and he tried to wedge his way in by using Skyler to help him, but she couldn’t take the stress and checked out. He showed no remorse over her death. He knew nothing about Held or Clatchety, or anything that had happened downstate.

This morning when they got back to court Service was amazed to see Wingel and Marldeane being represented by none other than the infamous Sandy Tavolacci, the favored mouthpiece of U.P. scumbags, east to west.

Tavolacci greeted Service with a sneer. “Grave robbery? Youse has really lost ’er dis time, bub.”

“Dream on, Sandy.”

Service and Sedge testified to events at the old graveyard that day, and both painted Sedge as the prime mover in the action. The suspects accused Allerdyce of assault, but when he took the stand he looked like he didn’t have a care in the world.

“So,” Tavolacci said, “from defendant to plaintiff.”

Allerdyce blinked. “I ain’t no plane ticket,” and laughed out loud. “You drinkin’ moose juice again, Sandy?”

The judge had to gavel the courtroom to order.

“Did you or did you not take weapons away from Mr. Delongshamp and Mr. Bolf?”

“Nope, sure din’t,” Allerdyce said solemnly.

“Our witnesses will testify differently,” Tavolacci said.

“What dose game wardens tease-to-fry? Was girlie dere took dose fellas’ guns.”

“Why should we believe you? You’re a felon.”

“Right,” Allerdyce said with a hearty chuckle. “Which is why I wasn’t gonna grab no bloody guns. I been prison, but I ain’t stupid, Sandy. Holy wah!
Youse
know dat.”

• • •

The judge eventually released the group on bail. The grave robbery charge was dropped and replaced by charges from statutes governing the removal of artifacts from state land. The case got lots and lots of media attention, across the state and even nationally.

Grady Service was invited to appear on
The Late Show with David Letterman.
Chief Waco encouraged this as a way of bringing light to the problem and when Service resisted, ordered his top sergeant to go on the show.

Letterman said, “So let me get this straight: In Michigan, it’s the game warden’s job to protect historical sites?”

“That’s right,” Service said.

“But the state authorities who know where these sites are won’t tell you where they are so you can take care of them.”

“Right again.”

Letterman gave one of his looks to the camera and stammered. “Is anyone trying to change this?” the famous host asked.

“I hope so,” Service said.

Letterman grinned. “That is one sharp uniform you’ve got there, Chief Master Sergeant. I understand you’re the first officer at that rank in state history, going all the way back to 1887.”

Service nodded and Letterman said, “Big hand of appreciation for Chief Master Sergeant Grady Service of the Michigan Department of Natural Resources.”

Service was met in the green room by Karylanne, Little Mar, Friday, and Shigun.

“You were funny, Bampy!” Maridly squealed.

“I wasn’t trying to be funny,” he said.

Friday poked his ribs. “Just one of your many gifts.”

It borders on surreal to write these words, but I have now been working with and writing about Michigan’s conservation officers for more than a decade. A former DNR spokesperson once referred to me jokingly as “the DNR’s embed.” I have always liked that label, and yes, I have unabashedly defended the people who manage and defend our natural resources. Too many people are quick to criticize despite having no clues about what really goes on, and why.

For the record, and as written, the State Archaeologist’s Office does not proactively disclose archaeological site locations to police officers or COs. It’s a sad but true bureaucratic comment on what low regard our own state bureaucracy has for our peace officers.

Shame on the state.

Shame on
us
for allowing such prejudice and shortsightedness.

I’ve ridden with officers in all fifteen U.P. counties, and approximately forty more counties below the bridge. I’ve gotten some very intimate looks at our state, and remain convinced that we have one of our nation’s great repositories of natural beauty and mostly accessible wilderness. When our state will ever learn to properly promote this great asset and our prodigious history is beyond my ken. I just hope our artifacts are not all stolen and destroyed by the time the state gets around to it.

Here I would like to thank all the officers who have shared their trucks with me, either in solo patrols or group efforts (sometimes called “goat rodeos” for good reason), often in uniform, occasionally in plainclothes, and regularly far from the truck on foot, or being directed in a truck by an aircraft buzzing overhead.

Without the guidance and encouragement of a lot of people, this series would never have come to life. I especially want to thank retired captain Tom Courchaine and Sergeant Mike Webster, along with the late chief Rick Asher and former Natural Resources commissioner Bob Garner. These four opened the doors and their files to me.

I also thank Lieutenant Tim Robson, and sergeants Steve Burton, Pete Malette (Ret.), and Darryl Shann, each of whom contributed mightily to the effort, as did COs Dave Painter, Grant Emery, Paul Higashi, Nick Torsky, “Sunshine” Hopkins, Sgt. Jeff Rabbers, and “Bigfoot” Dan Bigger, the officers who have silently suffered my presence more than others.

I also give huge thanks to the following retired officers: Detective Rick Ackerberg, Sergeant Kathy Bezotte, Chief Herb Burns, and Lieutenant Walt Mikula; Walt has more information about cases in his head than an encyclopedia. I hope he gets it all on paper sometime so future officers can learn from him and his experience. Our Michigan DNR law enforcement operation does a lousy job with institutional memory and keeping a good history of all they do and accomplish, both good and bad.

In addition to the few spotlighted above, there are many more officers who deserve thanks, and here they are alphabetically: Ryan Aho, Brian Bacon, Sergeant Mike “The Force” Borkovich, Matt Eberly, Sergeant Arthur Green, Brett “Gus” Gustafson, Doug Hermanson, Chris Holmes, Mike Holmes (Ret.), John Huspen, Bobbi Lively, Patrick MacManus, Warren Mac-Neil, Dave Miller, Jason Niemi, Kellie Nightlinger, Pete “Night Train” Purdy, Lacelle “The Gentleman” Rabon, Jeff “The Bouncer” Robinette, John “Weasel” Wenzel, Jason Wicklund, Lieutenant John Wormwood (Ret.), and Sergeant Pete Wright.

Others who earn a tip of the cap (also alphabetically): Nick Atkin, Kyle Bader, Sergeant Troy Bahlau, Mike Bomay, Brad Brewer, Mark DePew, Mark Ennett, Mike Evink, Jarad Ferguson, Pat Grondin (Ret.), Mike Hammill, Mike Hearn, Dan Helms (Ret.), Captain Dan Hopkins, CFS Ken Johnson, Detective Mike Johnson (Ret.), Sergeant John Jurcich, Brandon Kieft, Kris Kiel, Mark Leadman, Brain Lebel, Ken Lowell, Joel Lundberg, Lieutenant Dave Malloch, Corporal Steve Martin, Jason McCollough, Mike McDonnell (Ret.), Mike McGee, Derek Miller, Sergeant Chris Morris (Ret.), “Mighty” Mike Mshaar, Brian Olsen, Steve Orange, Greg Patton, Ivan Perez, Tami Pullen, Gary Raak, Dave “The Meat Eater” Rodgers, Reed Roeske, Lt. Dave Shaw, Ben Shively, CFS Terry Short, Chris Simpson, Jon Sklba, Jason Smith, Steve Spoegl, Rich Stowe, Sergeant Jackie Strauch (Ret.), Todd Syzska, Chuck Towns, CFS Shannon Van Patten, Dave Vant
Hof (Ret.), Jeff Walker, Danny Walzak, Shane Webster, and Phil Wolbrink (Ret.).

Sorry if I missed anyone.

Quite the list, quite the time, and one helluva ride from then to now.

Of all the Woods Cop novels, this one has perhaps been the most fun to write because it delves into an area many people are interested in, but, like me, have little knowledge of.

Be advised: Grady’s not done yet, but that time will come as it surely does for all of us. Meanwhile, embed clear.

Over.

Joseph Heywood

June 20, 2010

Joseph Heywood is the author of
The Snowfly
(Lyons),
Covered Waters
(Lyons),
The Berkut, Taxi Dancer, The Domino Conspiracy,
and the eight novels comprising the Woods Cop Mystery Series. Featuring Grady Service, a detective in the Upper Peninsula for Michigan’s Department of Natural Resources, this series has earned its author cult status among lovers of the outdoors, law enforcement officials, and mystery devotees. Heywood lives in Portage, Michigan.

For more on Joseph Heywood and the Woods Cop Mysteries, visit the author’s website at
www.josephheywood.com
.