Julio no longer feared Truman. The young Filipino had once looked up to his boss and aspired to be like him. Now he felt nothing but pity and disgust. Truman was a mess. He had a wife and baby daughter to take care of, but was never home. He’d squandered his fortune and what little he had left ran straight through his fingers. Standing up, Julio looked directly into Truman’s bloodshot eyes and announced that he was leaving.
Back in the Igorrote Village, Maria was frantic with worry. She had asked the policeman on duty to get an urgent message to Barker that Julio was missing. Barker had returned to the village shortly before midnight. When Maria described how Callahan had taken Julio out of the park with him, the government agent cursed. Why hadn’t the men paid to guard the Igorrotes done their job? Barker would ask for a second policeman to be stationed permanently in the village.
Barker had brought with him Schneidewind and an attorney named Louis J. Blum, whom he had hired on behalf of the government to prosecute Truman.8 Blum ran the respected Chicago law firm Blum and Blum with his brother; the Blums were both bachelors who still lived at home with their Jewish German mother. Louis Blum was fifty pounds overweight, something he put down to his mother’s delicious home cooking.
With Julio absent, Barker asked Schneidewind to translate as best he could. Schneidewind introduced Blum and told the tribe the attorney had come to the village to begin gathering evidence for the case against Truman. Barker indicated to Schneidewind, Blum, and the police officer to sit on the ground. He didn’t want the Filipinos to feel intimidated. Blum delicately lowered himself to the ground. As he wedged his considerable bulk into a small space beside Feloa, the chief made a mock-horrified face. Turning to one of the other men, the tribal chief whispered, “Taft,” a jokey reference to the famously overweight former governor-general of the Philippines.
The park security guards sat on the fence a short distance away. The night was pitch-dark except for the dancing flames of the fire and the sooty light given off by an oil lamp, which the police officer held aloft. Barker invited Feloa to speak first. As the Filipino began to talk, he was interrupted by a familiar voice shouting from the darkness beyond the campfire. It was Julio. He told them he had just come from a saloon where Truman had tried to force him to sign a document without disclosing its contents.
Blum and Barker looked at each other. Blum would have bet one of his mother’s superb strudels that the document Truman had tried to get Julio to sign stated that the tribespeople wanted to remain with him. Blum took out his pen and, indicating to the police officer to hold his lamp nearer so he could see, he hurriedly began writing. When he finished, Blum explained to Julio that the document he had just drafted stated that the Igorrotes at Sans Souci were there of their own free will and that they wished to remain under the charge of the US government until July 21, 1906, when they would be returned to the Philippines.
Blum asked Julio to translate for the rest of the tribe. If they were willing, Blum would like them all to sign the document there and then. The attorney explained that he feared Truman was trying to get legal control of the tribespeople so that he could prevent the government from sending them home. If the tribespeople signed Blum’s document, it would prevent the unscrupulous showman from taking control of them again.
Julio translated. The tribespeople grew animated. Feloa seemed to be leading the discussion. He addressed the group one by one, as if getting them to cast a vote. Barker and the other American men watched with interest. Julio picked up the pen. Suddenly Feloa shouted something and more lively discussion ensued. Feloa turned to Barker and, with Julio translating, said they would only sign on one condition: that the government guaranteed they would be paid the back salaries Truman owed them.
At this, the usually mild-mannered Barker lost his temper and began to curse. He had done everything he could to help the tribespeople. He understood they were anxious to be paid, but this was not the time for bargaining. They needed to make the government’s custodianship of the tribe official without delay. There would be time afterward to iron out the details. To Barker’s relief, only Julio and the other Americans present had understood his strong language. Composing himself, the government agent stated plainly that this was the best offer the Igorrotes were going to get. Julio translated, making clear that he thought they should sign.
Julio took the document from Blum and signed it. Then he passed it to Feloa. The chief paused for a moment, then reluctantly scratched a mark beside his name. One by one the others followed. Julio was reminded of a similar scene back in Bontoc sixteen months earlier, when they had signed their contracts with Truman.
It was after two o’clock in the morning by the time Barker got back to his hotel room. He was glad to have Blum working on the case with him. As well as being a talented attorney, Blum had a “ready wit, an “optimistic view of life,” and a “congenial” nature, which Barker had immediately warmed to.9 He sensed they would get along well and had been impressed by the way the Chicago attorney had interacted with the tribespeople, never once talking to them in a way that was badgering or patronizing.
Instead of going straight to bed, the government agent sat up until four o’clock writing up his report for the bureau. In it he described the scene that had just unfolded: “The Igorrotes picturesquely grouped around the open fire, the native huts contrasting with the 19th century rollercoaster [sic] in the background, our police officer holding up the only lamp to read by, and the American audience of some half dozen interested persons somewhat anxiously awaiting results—the whole scene was not without artistic and even sociological interest—to an outsider!”10
Barker put his pen down and lay on his bed, fully clothed, his hands folded behind his head. The two Pinkerton detectives he had hired to find Truman had so far failed. They’d visited Sallie and the Elks Lodge, but no one was giving anything away. The Igorrotes didn’t understand how it was that Callahan and Truman’s other associates were able to find the showman whenever they needed to and “yet the government—the All-Powerful—is unable or indisposed” to find him and “take measures to bring [Truman] to book.”11 Barker could see their point. The fact that the showman had been leading them on a wild goose chase for the past fortnight was shameful indeed. Truman was a resourceful opponent with a vast network of informants and loyal friends and an extraordinary ability to vanish into thin air.
The district attorney’s assistant in Chicago had advised Barker to have the Igorrotes make a formal demand for the souvenir money, paving the way for Truman to be indicted in state court for embezzlement. In order to have a realistic chance of prosecuting Truman, they would need to retain a minimum of five or six of the Filipinos to act as witnesses. Given that Truman had stolen the largest sums from Feloa, Dengay, and Julio, and that all three had been present when each of the thefts had occurred, it would make sense for them to be among the witnesses. Barker would need to speak to them to find out if they were agreeable. The district attorney’s assistant had advised that they pursue criminal and civil proceedings for embezzlement and breach of contract, with a separate charge for each of the forty-nine Filipinos in the party. While raising multiple actions simultaneously would increase their chances of a conviction, this course of action would be costly. Barker would need to speak to the bureau to see if they were willing to go to the expense.
Barker propped himself up on his pillow. In the sixteen days since he arrived in Chicago, he had managed to see Truman only once. He had arranged a second meeting, but the showman had not turned up. Nonetheless Barker had gotten to know a good deal about Truman who, he’d discovered, had made a large number of enemies. Former employees, friends, and business associates had been happy to dish the dirt on a man who they said was more interested in chasing after a fast buck than in using his considerable talents, and who would do anything to make money, including stabbing his friends and business associates in the back. He had three children with three different wives, and was “utterly worthless” and “almost consta
ntly drunk and lying around the saloons in Chicago.”12
Blum felt that the legal case against Truman was strong. But Barker feared that, in view of Truman’s lack of resources, the bureau might decide it wasn’t worth prosecuting the showman. It was one thing to spend public money on a costly court case in the hope of recovering the tribe’s earnings, but quite another to spend it knowing there was little hope of ever seeing the thousands of dollars stolen from them again.
Across town, Truman paid Sallie a visit in the apartment he’d rented for her. He was drunk. Through his slurs Sallie made out something about being persecuted by the government and somebody called Barker who wanted to take over the Igorrote business for himself.
Sallie begged Truman to come back home for good. Her eyes filled with tears. She missed him. She was lonely. The baby had hardly seen him. She was tired of being cooped up in a tiny apartment with no money and nowhere to go. Truman said he couldn’t come back. They were after him. When Sallie asked if she could go and stay with her family, Truman shook his head. He needed her around.
As he walked out the door, Sallie fell to her knees in the dark hallway and sobbed.
At the suggestion of one of his Elks friends, Truman had arranged to meet with an attorney named Antoinette Funk, a prim-looking woman with a stern demeanor. The showman had been skeptical about hiring a woman at first, but when he met her he was impressed by her fighting spirit, her impressive track record, and her dry humor. Truman immediately engaged her services. No case was too difficult and no client was too dishonorable for Funk. In fact, the slimmer the chances of a not-guilty verdict, and the more egregious the crime, the more appealing the case became for her.
“A little woman who does not weigh more than a hundred pounds,”13 Funk would go on to become a leading member of the suffragette movement despite her surprising view that women did not belong in the professions. Funk, a single mother of two daughters, expressed this opinion in a 1904 interview in the Washington Post shortly after she succeeded in getting a high-profile murderer off with a relatively light fourteen-year sentence, as opposed to the death-by-hanging sentence sought by the prosecution. “Few times . . . has the public seen a woman making the kind of fight waged by Mrs. Funk.”14 Funk was well known among her male colleagues for her exhaustive preparation, her vast legal knowledge, and her rare ability to shape the law to suit her needs.15
It was Funk who persuaded Truman, on Thursday, July 12, 1906, that it was time to show his face again. He had no need to hide himself away, she reasoned. That night, Truman, Funk, Callahan, Fox, and two other business associates of Truman’s named Quinn and Kavanaugh turned up at Barker’s hotel room just after nine thirty.16 Barker invited them to step inside, though there was barely room for him let alone six visitors.
Barker assumed that the one woman in the group must be Truman’s wife, though she was older and uglier than he had imagined she would be. When Truman introduced her as his attorney, the government agent looked up in surprise. Barker offered her his only seat. She declined, insisting she was happier standing.
The room was quiet for a moment. Funk pierced the silence with her booming voice: her client wished to come to an agreement that would allow him to continue exhibiting the tribespeople in America. He was willing to put up a bond. He could not afford the ten thousand dollars the government was asking for, but offered instead to put up four thousand. Truman had been a good boss to the tribespeople, said Funk, adding that he felt “positive” they would wish to stay on in America with him on these terms.17 Barker said he would put the proposal to the chief of the bureau, but he was bluffing. Under no circumstances would the government allow Truman to get his hands on the Igorrotes again. Still, if Truman was now willing to speak to the government, Barker was intrigued to hear what else he had to say.
Next, Truman’s attorney turned briskly to the matter of money. Her client hated to think of the tribespeople being without funds and wished to give them some of the souvenir money he had been keeping for them. He could only afford five hundred dollars just now, but he would pay the balance as soon as he had it. Truman reached into his pocket and pulled out a thick wad of rolled-up bank notes, which he handed to Barker. The government agent took it and began counting. There were indeed five hundred dollars there. Barker was surprised Truman had that much money left. He wondered if there was more stashed away.
Barker knew Truman was not paying the money back because he’d had an epiphany and seen the error of his ways. Rather he was simply doing what he could to avoid criminal prosecution. Barker thanked his visitors for coming and said he would be in touch once he had discussed their proposal with the bureau. Was there anything else they wished to say? No, said Truman, except that the government could reach him at any time through Miss Funk’s office. Barker nodded and closed the door behind them, glad to have his room back to himself.
On top of the five hundred dollars Truman had just given him, Barker had collected a further thousand dollars in total from the tribe’s gate receipts in Chicago, Winnipeg, and Syracuse. The money was only a fraction of what Truman owed them, but it would go some way to paying their back salaries. Aside from those who were staying on as witnesses, the Igorrotes were due to leave Chicago in nine days’ time to begin the long journey home. The government agent hoped they might be able to add to the tribe’s pot of earnings before they departed.
Barker rose early the following morning and sent a telegram to the bureau, informing them of Truman’s proposal that he should be allowed to keep exhibiting the Igorrotes in America in return for paying a four-thousand-dollar bond. The bureau chief responded quickly and decisively: he dismissed Truman’s suggestion out of hand and delivered the good news that the bureau had decided to go along with Barker’s suggested course of action and pursue criminal and civil proceedings for embezzlement and breach of contract.
Barker went to straight to the Igorrote Village, where he told the tribe he needed a volunteer who was willing to make a charge against Truman under oath before a justice of the peace. Without hesitation, Julio said he would do it. In fact, he said, it would give him a great deal of satisfaction to put his name to the warrant for Truman’s arrest.
For once the police officer didn’t have any trouble finding Truman. The showman had become sloppy since he’d hired Funk, assuming that his attorney could get him off with anything. On July 15, 1906, he was arrested on a charge of embezzlement. Who filed the charge? Truman wanted to know. On hearing that it was Julio, the showman cursed and muttered something under his breath. He was taken to the police station and put in a cell. Shortly after, Funk arrived and had the showman released on two thousand dollars’ bond.18
Barker had gone to the police station with Blum to make sure Truman put up a proper bond. When he returned to the Igorrote Village, he found Maria in a state of hysteria. Julio was missing. He had last been seen in the village earlier that day, with some of Truman’s friends.19 Maria was frantic with worry. Truman must have learned that Julio was behind his arrest. He must have instructed his associates to do something terrible to the interpreter by way of revenge.
25
An Ultimatum
ENGLEWOOD, CHICAGO, JULY 17, 1906
Newspaper headline from a file the US government kept on Truman
TAINAN WOKE WITH a start as the train screeched to a halt. It was early in the morning, two days after Truman’s arrest, and the Syracuse Igorrotes were on their way to Chicago with Dr. Sutherland of the pensionado program. Tainan squinted through the window, trying to work out where they were. The low sprawl of industrial and residential buildings didn’t look like Chicago, thought the boy, who had passed through the Second City before and had never forgotten the skyscrapers he had seen there. Shouts coming from outside interrupted his thoughts. A group of men ran past the window. There was a commotion on the platform, then the door to their car burst open. Truman, Callahan, Quinn, and Fox appeared, trailed by some other American men and Julio.1
The Igorrot
es gawked in astonishment at Truman’s unexpected arrival. The showman had come to issue an ultimatum. If they wanted their back salaries, they must get off the train and go with him now, he shouted. If they went with the government, they wouldn’t see a penny of their money. Dr. Sutherland jumped to his feet and, in Spanish, he instructed the Filipinos to stay where they were. Truman was lying. Hadn’t he promised them their money many times before? This was a trick. For one brief moment, everyone in the car froze in confusion. Tainan looked up at Julio, assuming that he would know what to do. But Julio stood silently.
Outside, doors slammed as passengers clambered out of the train, dragging their trunks after them. The conductor shouted for everyone who was not traveling on to La Salle Street Station in Chicago to get off, the train was about to depart. Truman stood firm. He would not make the offer again. The Igorrotes better make up their minds fast. Did they want their money or not?
Sensing an adventure, Tainan got up and ran for the door. One by one, the others rushed after him. The conductor watched as they began piling off the train. Stop! shouted Sutherland impotently. But it was too late. Two short blasts on the whistle indicated that the brakes had been released. Next stop Chicago. Sutherland looked out helplessly as the Igorrotes followed Truman along the platform. Despite the government’s best efforts, the last group of Igorrotes was back in the arms of Truman Hunt.
Unnoticed by Sutherland, a man stood at the end of the platform and began to follow Truman at a distance.
Standing in his hotel room, Barker could hardly believe his ears. How on earth could Truman have stolen the tribespeople from right under Sutherland’s nose? While Barker cursed and tried to figure out what to do next, a messenger arrived with a note from the Pinkerton agency. Barker tore it open. One of their detectives had been tailing Truman when he stormed the train and kidnapped the Igorrotes, and had pursued the showman into Englewood, the old streetcar suburb that was still infamous for being the site where the serial killer H. H. Holmes had built his “murder castle” fifteen years earlier. The detective had followed Truman and the tribespeople to White City, the other big Chicago amusement park, where they were due to open a new village that very day.
The Lost Tribe of Coney Island Page 28
