We were headed to Knaught’s place of business when I spied the spire of a little white church around the corner and down the block. Most ministers, if they’re worth their salt, know the happenings in a town of this size. As we walked toward the church I asked Elfego if he knew where the pastor lived.
For that I received a puzzled look. “Pastor, preacher, do you know where he lives?” I asked rather curtly. “Elfego, you do go to church?”
For that I received a puzzled look. “Pastor, preacher, do you know where he lives?” I asked rather curtly. “Elfego, you do go to church?”
“Si, maybe, once in a while. The padre, when he sees me he bemoans my fate because I do not often attend,” came a rather sheepish reply.
“Where are your parents? Don’t they make you go?” I kept questioning as we neared the steps that led up to the front door.
As I put one boot on the steps, he hesitated to go up with me. “What’s wrong? Is there something about this preacher you don’t like?”
He seemed a bit squeamish, something I hadn’t seen in him before. He would shrug one shoulder, then the other then got a sour look on his face. “What is it?” I asked firmly.
“This man, this preacher, makes me uncomfortable. I’ve only seen him a few times, but he makes me, how can I put it, itch inside,” he replied. “I’ll wait for you here.”
I put my hand behind his shoulder and sort of pushed him forward a bit. “We’re in this together, and I want you to hear what he says. Maybe he can shed some light on what is going on.” The door was unlocked so we entered. I looked around for a room that might be used for an office. Entering the sanctuary, I hollered, “Hello, I’d like to talk to the Preacher. Hello!”
To the back, off to the left of the pulpit area a door opened and I could see the light behind it. A man emerged, rather tall, but thin, dressed in a suit, but without a jacket. He waved at us to come to him.
“Hello, Sir,” he said with genuine sincerity as if he was really happy to see us. “Ah, I recognize you,” he said to Elfego, reaching out his hand to him first. “I’ve seen you all around town. You’re Francisco Baca’s son.”
I could tell that Elfego was surprised. “You know my father?”
“Not well, but we have spoken a few times,” the preacher replied, then turned to shake my hand. “And you, Sir. Who do I have the honor of meeting?”
He firmly gripped my hand as I responded. “Deputy U.S. Marshal Miles Forrest, and I just wanted to ask you a few questions if I may intrude on your time.”
“Reverend Claude Sinclair, and yes, yes come into my office if you want, or we can sit here,” he said by introduction. He looked me over then back to Elfego, and I saw him smile. We chose to sit on the front pew of the church. Elfego made sure to sit on the other side of me away from the preacher.
“You know Elfego?” I asked out of curiosity.
He continued to smile. “Yes, they were living up in Kansas, Topeka I believe when his mother died,” he stopped to look at Elfego. “What was it, Elfego, two, three years ago? His father is the sheriff over in Belen and Elfego spends much of his time here in Socorro doing odd jobs.”
I glanced over at Elfego before asking the preacher any more questions. He didn’t look at me, just stared straight ahead, looking at the cross that was on the wall. “Reverend, what can you tell me about a ring that is pestering, and sometimes beating merchants in town? I’ve been sent to search for a man named Grady Stinson, but no one seems to have heard of him or they are keeping it very quiet.”
“He does not know?” the preacher inquired. “If he doesn’t know, I don’t think I can add anything to it. Elfego here is quite the investigator, and to answer your question I haven’t heard of a Grady Stinson. However, there is a group who strong-arms the merchants into paying them a, what I call, an extortion fee.”
I nodded at him to go on. “A Mr. Anton Knaught has put up an insurance company in which he required all the merchants in town to be part of. So far he hasn’t bothered the church, but they must pay a fee to protect their property. If for some reason they refuse or don’t pay, they find within a few days that there is some kind of destruction to their place of business. Mr. Knaught is sure to remind them that if they would have paid, their damages would have been covered by his policy.”
The preacher was to my liking. He reminded me of our minister back in Durango, Dale Chapman. We talked a little longer, but his information was all I needed. Normally, this would have been a job for the town marshal, but from what I had gathered and what Rev. Sinclair had added, there was indeed extortion going on and that the marshal was heavily involved with it. However, with New Mexico still being a territory I had considerable jurisdiction.
Elfego had been very quiet, and he only nodded when the pastor told him goodbye and prayed that the Lord would bless him. Outside, on the steps, he looked back at the now closed church. “Miles, do you know why there is not the figure of a man on the crucifix in that church?”