The Mauling at Kinnickinick Pueblo

by Charles Williamson

  Sean walked back to his Explorer with a broad smile on his face, pleased at the expression of confidence in sending him on the assignment without a more senior member of the team to supervise. Mike went back to his own vehicle and drove to the Museum of Northern Arizona. He wanted to learn more about the Sinagua burial practices to figure out what artifacts might have been looted. He’d brought along copies of the crime scene photos including detailed and close-up photos of the bottom of the excavation that indicated the shapes of some of the objects that had been removed.

  Chapter 5

  Mike drove to the Museum of Northern Arizona. He showed his badge to a volunteer working the front entrance and asked who could explain more of the traditions of the Sinagua Native Americans burial from about 1200 AD to 1350 AD. The pleasant middle-aged woman named Barbara Macbeth made a phone call and then directed Mike to a building on the opposite side of Fort Valley Road, a facility that the museum used as a research laboratory. Mike and Margaret had been to the museum many times to attend the annual Hopi, Zuni, and Navajo Heritage Festivals. The museum specialized in art and artifacts found in northern Arizona. It was also a center of scientific research to the history of the area. Mike picked up a brochure that indicated that there was a collection of over five million artifacts, only a tiny portion of which were actually on display at any one time.

  Doctor Amber Whittier was in charge of the Anthropology research collection. Mike called her and then drove across the highway to meet her in her lab. Mike presented his credentials to the thirty-something woman. Doctor Amber Whittier was tanned, lean, and had a sweet smile. “Well, it’s a surprise to meet you Captain Damson. Of course, I’ve seen your photo in the Flagstaff Sun several times, and even on the evening news last year. How can I help?”

  “Please, call me Mike. I’m here about a murder at Kinnickinick Pueblo ruin yesterday. We think the man was killed by looters who were digging in a burial area of the ruin.”

  “My God. Looting has always been a problem, but there’s never been a murder. I hope it wasn’t one of our site stewards.”

  “No, it was the two site stewards assigned to the ruin who discovered the victim. They also discovered a large excavation. I understand you’re the expert on what might have been looted. There were impressions of some of the objects on the bottom of the dig and bones in the dirt removed from the hole.”

  Mike took out copies of the crime scene photos, which showed the hole and the mound of dirt beside it. They were eight by ten color reproductions of the digital photos that Sean had taken including close ups of the hole from which artifacts had been removed. Amber took them to a table and examined them under a bright light with a magnifying glass. It was a minute before Mike saw the first tear drop onto one of the photos.

  Dr. Whittier was silently crying. “Excuse me a minute” she said, and walked from the room into an adjoining office and closed the door. Mike stood waiting for about two minutes unsure what was going on until Dr. Whittier returned with two large folios.

  “If professional archeologists had found this burial and excavated it with proper documentation, it would have been the most significant and most career important discovery so far this century here in the southwestern United States. In 1939, McGregor and Wetherill excavated a burial at the Ridge Ruin about thirty miles from Flagstaff. They were working with the Museum of Northern Arizona on that project. They found the intact burial of a high-ranking Sinagua shaman or clan leader. It was the most important find ever made by the museum. It’s called the Magician’s Burial, and it’s now the most famous discovery of Sinagua artifacts ever made. Your looted burial was extremely similar.”

  She opened one of the folios and showed Mike a drawing of a skeleton with a variety of artifacts drawn around it. The similarities were obvious even to Mike. There had once been very similar objects spread around at the bottom of that illegal excavation. Even the pattern of object placements was similar.

  “See this impression in the dirt. It was a necklace made from an oyster shell covered in turquoise tiles. The oyster would have been a trade good transported all the way from the Pacific. The band was made from hundreds of shell and stone beads. The local Native Americans had a trade network that went all the way to now what is central Mexico as well as west to the Pacific in what is now southern California.” She turned pages in the folio and showed him the drawing of a similar object from the Magician’s Burial discovered in 1939.

  “This shape was a skull cap or head covering inlaid with tiny beads, probably also made of turquoise and shells. Here you can see the impression of the point on the top of the cap, and this photo is of a reconstruction of the head of the magician displaying the same cap with a pointed spike on top.”

  Pointing to a close-up photo of two long impressions in the dirt at the bottom of the illegal excavation, Dr. Whittier said, “These other objects were almost certainly painted sticks used for ceremonial purposes. See this one was in the shape of a hand. The other one is a serpent staff. Here, there was probably an obsidian knife blade with a carved bone handle. These two impressions were probably of turquoise bracelets worn on each wrist of the buried man.”

  Mike could see she was choking up again. Her reaction was dismay at learning that the artifacts had been removed without documentation or professional supervision.

  “Dr. Whittier, it would help if you could make a list of what you think might have been taken. Any photos of similar objects or drawings of what’s missing would help us catch the looters. We think they murdered a young man who discovered their activity.”

  “Of course. I’ll have a list to you tomorrow. I’ll want to show your photos to some colleagues. Captain, have you heard of NAGPRA, the Native American Graves Protection and Repatriation Act of 1990. It will apply to this site. The descendants of the Sinagua who lived at Kinnickinick Pueblo are one of the Hopi clans at Second Mesa. They will want to be involved in reburial of their ancestor.”

  “Neil Cooper of the Forest Service is involved, and he mentioned the Hopi connection. He said the Hopi Tribe would be involved in a reburial. It will be at least a week before they can come to the site. It’s the scene of a homicide, but of course, we will honor their rights. It does not appear that they took any of the remains, but I saw no skull at the scene.”

  “Captain, could you do something for me. If I could do a DNA analysis on a fragment of bone from the ruin, you could return the bone after I take my sample. I may still be able to get evidence that would tie any recovered artifact to the burial if it too retained the buried clan chief’s DNA. Items like bracelets, necklaces, and chest ornaments that were in physical contact with the remains would be best. That would also allow us to identify and return the skull if it’s been removed. My specialty is using DNA tools to understand the relationships between the various Hopi Clans. I’m trying to determine their ancient migration from many diverse sites in northern Arizona to their current locations at the Hopi mesas. I have state-of-the-art DNA analysis equipment here at the lab. The only such resource in Arizona north of the Phoenix area.”

  “Good idea. I have some men out at the crime scene today. I’ll ask my associate to bring you a sample of one of the long bones. I think that is the end of a femur sticking out of the dirt pile,” he said, pointing to one of the photos.

  “A femur would be perfect.”

  Mike wondered if the DNA sample might lead to some improvement in the understanding of the Sinagua tribe’s migration to the Hopi Mesas. He hoped something good could come from this tragedy. If he could find the artifacts before they were dispersed, that might also contribute to the scholarship regarding the ancient tribe.

  Once he was out of the research lab, Mike called Sean Mark. “Sean, are you still at Kinnickinick Lake? Have you learned anything?”

  “Yes captain. The day prior to the murder, two sets of campers heard the noise of several ATVs about noon, but no one saw them. The looters used a route other than the road that passes by the lake. The same camp
ers thought they heard them leave about 9:00 AM on the day of the murder, but they didn’t see anything that day either. Neil Cooper came through half an hour ago. He was going to plant ten of his motion activated mini cameras in the area of the Kinnickinick Pueblo. He’ll also be checking some of his recording devices that are at nearby ruins. The Coconino National Forest received a grant to add two hundred of these tiny cameras to monitor the ruins in the area. Only about fifty have been deployed so far. According to Neil, they were a gift from a tech billionaire who likes archeology. Neil said that there are already fifteen devices at ruins in the Anderson Mesa area. Unfortunately, none are near the crime scene. Since they’re motion activated, they would have recorded anyone riding nearby on an ATV. The road by Kinnickinick Lake is the only way into the area for normal vehicles, but they probably entered from some distant trailhead cutting through the open piñon and juniper forest between here and I-40.”

  “I hope we get a clue from the cameras. By tomorrow, I’ll have drawings of what some of the artifacts may look like. I need you to return to the ruin and take a bone, preferably a femur or large bone from the excavation site. Take it to Doctor Amber Whittier at the Museum of Northern Arizona Research Lab. After she takes a small sample from the bone, you’ll need to return the bone to the site. At some point, the Hopi Tribe will perform their rites for their ancestor and rebury the remains.”

  Mike went back to his office. He had his research assistant, June Rosetta, prepare a list of every dealer in pre-Columbian artifacts located in Arizona, California, Utah, Nevada, and New Mexico. He started the long process of contacting every one of them to warn them that a site similar to the famous Sinagua Magician discovery of 1939 had been looted, and that since it was connected to a homicide, anyone handling those artifacts might be charged with an accessory after the fact in a homicide. He explained that he would provide sample drawings of the types of artifacts stolen by email sometime tomorrow. He began his calls with the closest dealers and worked his way out to other states. The process took the rest of the day, and twenty dealers had not answered their phones. At the end of the day, he felt no closer to a solution.

  Shortly before he headed down to Sedona, he received a call from Sean Mark. “Captain, I delivered the femur as you requested. Amber asked me to wait. She took it into her lab and returned it a few minutes later. I couldn’t see any difference in the bone. She asked me to put it back exactly where I found it and to not mention her sample to anyone. She gave me a copy of the same photo I took of the crime scene and insisted that I must position it exactly as shown in the photo. Amber Whittier is married to my cousin so I’ve known her for a decade. She’s a smart lady and totally honest. I’ve never seen her act as if she was committing some grave crime, but really, our whole interaction was very odd. Did I do something wrong.”

  “Sean, her conduct seems strange to me too. When you get to the office tomorrow, I want you to look up the Native American Graves Protection and Repatriation Act of 1990. It may be that we had no right to take a bone from the grave. It’s possible that Dr. Whittier knew that but wanted the DNA sample for her research anyway. We’re not investigating an eight hundred year old death so maybe disturbing the remains was not justified. After you review the law, I may need to take some action like disclosing this to the Hopi Tribal Council.”

  Mike couldn’t just wait until tomorrow to see what Sean learned. He did an Internet search. After reading a few sites, he knew that the remains and all of the grave artifacts would become the property of the Hopi Tribe. The criminal penalties were up to twelve months in jail and a fine of up to $100,000. Nothing he could find indicated those penalties would apply to what they had done in getting a DNA sample although it could be argued that he should have gotten a court order with notice to the Hopi Tribal government, who might have objected in court. What annoyed Mike most was not that Amber Whittier might have played him to get what might be difficult to receive permission to take the sample, rather he felt especially stupid that she had even mentioned the Native American Graves Protection and Repatriation Act of 1990. He hadn’t even looked it up before asking Sean to deliver a bone to Amber from a burial site of an ancestral Hopi.

  When Mike got home, he told Margaret the whole story of being played by a pretty scientist. He was so by-the-book while on the LA Police Department that his coworkers had called him either The Chaplain or Chaplain Mike.

  Margaret said, “A pretty scientist gave you hope in solving your case with DNA evidence. The same type of evidence you’ve used to solve scores of other cases. Of course, you bit. You’ve never had a case where this NAGPRA rule applied. She certainly used you as a shortcut to further her research.”

  “Sweetie, if the original source of the DNA can be challenged in court, the evidence that might connect various recovered objects to the ancient burial might not be admitted. She gave me hope of proof that would tie the sellers of stolen artifacts to the Kinnickinick murder site, but my premature action might have ruined that chance.” Mike’s expression showed considerable discomfort; he’d acted too hurriedly to fill Dr. Whittier’s request to test the DNA.

  Margaret put her hand on his arm and then bent over and kissed him. “My suggestion is that you drive up to the Hopi Mesas and tell them about the remains at Kinnickinick Pueblo. Take the photos with you. I suspect they will want to help solve both the looting of their ancestral grave and a murder committed during that crime. I think you’ll find they are reasonable people.”

  Mike decided she was correct.

  Chapter 6

  The following morning when Mike reached the Law Enforcement Building, he briefed Sheriff Taylor on the situation with the bone removed from the burial site at Kinnickinick Pueblo.

  “Mike, you probably know that part of the Hopi Mesas are in Coconino County so I’ve campaigned there during every election cycle. There is one woman I suggest you contact. She goes by the Anglo name of Barbara Songbird; her actual name is totally unpronounceable except to other Hopi speakers and extremely long. She is the official liaison with law enforcement for the tribe and a very gracious lady. She has a master’s degree from NAU, and she understands both cultures. The Hopi are a very private people. The first time I met Barbara, she told me that she believes that knowledge is power. She also said that if you give others your knowledge, you reduce your own power. I always collect a nice block of votes up there, but I only meet with tribal leaders and the official liaisons like Barbara. They are extremely private people and won’t discuss tribal matters with outsiders.”

  “Could you call her and let her know I’d like to meet her and discuss the looting of Kinnickinick Pueblo ruin?”

  “Wait while I call her.” A few minutes later Sheriff Taylor explained. “She’ll meet you at the Hopi Tribal Offices in the BIA Law Enforcement building located below the village of Kykotsmovi at Third Mesa. It takes about an hour and forty-five minutes to get there via Leupp Road. Take the crime scene photos so she can see the excavation. She explained that she was from the same clan as the people who once occupied Kinnickinick Pueblo. Clans are important to the Hopi, but much of the details of clan relationships and histories are secret. She may bring the clan elder to your meeting and someone from the BIA.”

  “Thank you for pointing me to the right person. Sean is returning that femur to the excavation site this morning, but I will tell Mrs. Songbird it was removed for a DNA sample before we understood that the Hopi Tribe needed to be involved in that decision. It’s best to be honest with them about the details. We may be asked about the circumstances in court. I’m absolutely determined to find whoever killed Paul McFarlane, and the DNA evidence might be conclusive.”

  The Hopi Reservation is completely surrounded by the much larger Navajo Reservation. Mike knew that some of the oldest Hopi villages were first occupied in about 1100 AD, long before the Navajo migrated to the area. The relationship between the two tribes had involved a lot of litigation in the twentieth century and worse conflicts in the nineteent
h century.

  The drive to the Hopi Mesas was classic southwestern scenery. The vivid dark green of the San Francisco Peaks with the tops still snow covered was in his rear view mirror. Ahead was the dramatic nearly treeless scenery of the vast southwestern high desert landscape of mesas, canyons, and buttes. Mike had only driven through the Navajo Reservation on his way to a short vacation in Telluride, Colorado. He had never been on this stretch of a nearly empty two-lane road. The Sheriff’s Department was not very involved in law enforcement on the reservations, which had their own tribal police forces and the FBI for more serious crimes. Just in time for his appointment, Mike arrived at the Hopi Tribal Offices, several attractive modern buildings with soaring blue metal roofs located below a dramatic red cliff.

  When Mike pulled up in his Sheriff’s Department Explorer, a woman with long black hair came out to greet him. She wore a navy blue linen pants suit with a starched white blouse. She was not what Mike had expected; she looked and spoke like a high-end Phoenix attorney with Native American facial features.

  She stuck out a hand to greet him. “Hi Mike, I’m Barbara. Sheriff Taylor said this was your first visit to the Hopi. Welcome, I’ve reserved a conference room for us. I have a couple of people to introduce you to before we begin to discuss the Kinnickinick looting.