The Legend of the Bent Organ Pipes

By George Haines

Deep inside the Organ Mountains located in New Mexico, a treasure of gold and silver has remained hidden for hundreds of years. A Spanish soldier divulged the location of this cache as he died in the arms of the local padre, who scribbled the information on a scrap of paper.
This fragment of yellowed paper remained obscured, lodged between pages of a prayer book at a monastery over many decades. The elusive informationthe subject of enduring folklore, rumors, and gossipgradually became known as the Legend of the Bent Organ Pipes, a formation of vertical columns of granite in the Organ Mountains.
Then, in the 1940s, this obscure paper is discovered by a German priest who is serving at the monastery. He requests that the information be inscribed on a pewter medallion and cut into five pieces to ensure secrecy.
Alas, a former German Panzer Tank commander, Colonel Helmut Schmidt, alias Red Fox, and the nemesis of detectives Sam Hames and Howie Newbald, learns about the legend. Determined to be the first to find the treasure, he entices two of his former soldiers to assist him. He thinks the five separate pieces of the medallion may now be located in Indiana, but where exactly?
Sheriff Neverfine, chief law officer in Gurant County, Indiana, becomes involved. He directs detectives, Sam and Howie, to investigate the legend and nab the crafty Red Fox.
Who will be the first to locate the five pieces of the medallion, follow the directions, and find the treasure? You will have to read every chapter to find out.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Oct 19, 2016
• ISBN: 9781524644574

Book preview

THE LEGEND of the BENT ORGAN PIPES

GEORGE S. HAINES

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© 2016 George S. Haines. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

RJV

Scripture quotations marked KJV are from the Holy Bible. King James Version

(Authorized Version). First published in 1611. Quoted from the KJV Classic

Reference Bible, Copyright c 1983 by the Zondervan Corporation.

This is a work of fiction. Although certain towns and locations mentioned in this novel may exist all the communities, characters, names, incidents, organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

Published by AuthorHouse 10/18/2016

ISBN: 978-1-5246-4458-1 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-5246-4459-8 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-5246-4457-4 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2016916951

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models,

and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Chapter 41

Chapter 42

Chapter 43

Chapter 44

Epilogue

PREVIOUS MYSTERY ADVENTURES

BY

GEORGE S. HAINES

******************

The Giant Horseshoe Mystery

***

The X Y Z Mystery

***

The Red Pick-Up Truck Mystery

***

The Professor with Many Faces

***

The Wreck of the ‘Cincy" Queen

***

The KingBee

TO ALL READERS

This adventure story is dedicated to readers of all

ages who enjoy being entangled in an engaging

mystery that defies a quick solution. My hope is

that you enjoy some frivolity as the narrative

moves toward a climax. Lacking objectionable

language this novel is appropriate for all ages.

The constant support and prayers of my wife, Myra

Jane, have sustained me throughout the development

of the manuscript. Her many reviews and suggestions

were most valuable.

Also, many thanks to my friend, Dave Topham, who offered

valuable technical suggestions and pertinent observations.

My prayer is that you, the reader, will find this novel

intriguing and uplifting. My intent is for the storyline to

follow in the manner of the teachings of Jesus Christ

and contribute to the glory of God.

And, of course, Betty Wedeles, the artist with many talents,

deserves many kudos for her masterful rendition of the

treasure in gold nuggets that remains mysteriously hidden

behind ‘The Bent Organ Pipes’ in New Mexico.

THE LEGEND OF THE BENT ORGAN PIPES

A Prologue

Years ago, in the 1700’s, a Spanish soldier discovered a rich vein of gold in the rugged eastern area of the present state of New Mexico. He refined a portion of the ore and hid his treasure deep inside The Organ Mountains. The next year, as he lay dying of smallpox in the arms of the local padre, the soldier revealed the location of his secret horde. The padre sketched the confidential information on a scrap of paper and placed it between two pages of a prayer book. After several weeks he forgot about the obscure paper and returned the book to the library located in the Basilica.

Much later the padre remembered he had placed the written directions to the location of the treasure in the prayer book. He returned to the church to retrieve the paper, interpret the message and locate the riches. However, the church officials had ordered the transfer of the entire library holdings to a monastery in Germany.

Over the ensuing years gossip, rumors and speculation developed concerning the validity of the padre’s verbal tale about the hidden cache of gold. The story became a legend repeated by successive generations of hopeful dreamers and seekers of the treasure. Yes, that is the origin of:

The Legend of the Bent Organ Pipes

Then in 1948 a priest at the German monastery discovered the tattered scrap of paper.

A mad scramble erupted as covetous individuals raced to locate and claim the riches.

Red Fox, the continuing nemesis of detectives, Sam Hames and Howie Newbald, learns about the legend. He entices two of his former Panzer Tank Corps soldiers to join him in his quest for the gold held captive in The Organ Mountains.

But alas, someone had inscribed the legend on a medallion and cut the metal into five pieces. Where are these valuable parts, the road map to the treasure? Red Fox thinks the five pieces may be hidden in Gurant County, Indiana, the bailiwick of Sheriff Neverfine.

Detectives Sam and Howie, together with Inspector Snooper, are directed by the sheriff to pursue the legend and nab the slippery Red Fox.

Who will be the first to interpret The Legend of the Bent Organ Pipes, solve the mystery and seize the gold? You will need to read this adventure story and find out for yourself.

Participants and Places occurring in

The Legend of The Bent Organ Pipes

in order of appearances.

Lazy Bones Coffee Shop……….long time source of satisfying victuals in Pumpkin Blossom, Indiana.

Colonel Helmut Schmidt (Red Fox)……former Nazi Panzer tank commander.

Udo and Bruno…………………German soldiers who served under Colonel Schmidt.

Sedric Ledfoot…………………owner of The Lazy Bones Coffee Shop.

Simon Schmidt…………………Priest at German Monastery.

Otto Schmidt……………………silversmith at town near the monastery.

Omar……………………………silversmith in Rotterdam, The Netherlands.

Rudolf Overshoo……………….former blacksmith in Pumpkin Blossom.

Mrs. Prudely (Samantha)………owner and former occupant at 404 Appalling Street, Marston, Indiana.

Dr. Suturelee……………………Medical doctor and administrator of Polynurve Hospital in MendTown, Indiana.

Sam Hames…………………….partner of The S and H Detective Agency in Marston, Indiana.

Howard (Howie) Newbald………the second partner of the S and H Detective Agency.

Ginny Hames……………………wife of Sam Hames.

Oskar Hammer…………………relative of Ginny Hames.

Reverend Rob Kneel……………minister of The Third Methodist Church in Marston, Indiana.

Sheriff Byron Neverfine…………long time chief lawman of Gurant County.

Clara Morhusky…………………Sheriff Neverfine’s romantic interest.

Mrs. Daisy Fluterman……………organist at The Third Methodist Church.

Spade Digger……………………owner operator of the local mortuary.

Inspector Snooper……………….Hershel ‘Snooper’ Sneupenhauger, second in command at the sheriff’s office.

Captain Firmly………………….division commander of the Indiana State Police.

I. C. Staars (Isodore)……………romantic interest of Mrs. Prudely.

Ovid Prudely……………………husband of Mrs. Prudely.

Peter Guardless…………………F. B. I. Agent at Chicago office.

Reverend Slim Stout……………minister of country Methodist Church.

Dr. Gertrude Finus………………Gurant County coroner.

Never Drip Coffee Shop………..popular downtown eatery in Marston, Indiana.

Hortense…………………………waitress at Never Drip Coffee Shop.

Mesilla…………………………historic town in southeast New Mexico.

MendTown………………………small town in central Indiana.

Miss Theresa Twilleger…………receptionist at Polynurve Hospital.

Polynurve Hospital……………..psychiatric clinic in MendTown.

William…………………………attendant at Polynurve.

Clarence…………………………desk clerk at The Tumbleweed Bunkhouse, in El Paso, Texas.

Basilio…………………………..desk clerk at Hotel Mesilla.

Henry ‘Yakky’ Yackovitch………frequent visitor to el parque in Mesilla.

Camila and Sophia………………docents at Mesilla Museo.

The Tumbleweed Bunkhouse……derelict hotel in El Paso.

The Big Plate Cafe………………popular eatery in MendTown, Indiana.

Willa Mae………………………waitress at The Big Plate Cafe.

CHAPTER 1

L ATE IN THE AFTERNOON ON a warm, humid, lazy September day, Helmut Schmidt, a former German Colonel, settled onto a well-worn wooden seat in a secluded booth at the rear of the LazyBones Coffee Shop. The quaint eatery located at the south end of the only street in Pumpkin Blossom, had the distinction of being the sole source of relief from hunger in the small town in southern Indiana.

The Hit Parade song of the week, ‘Baby Face’, drifted throughout the cafe, the music and lyrics blaring from a small, multicolored plastic radio resting on a shelf next to a sack of dried black beans in the small cluttered kitchen. Dusty curtains hung motionless over unpainted, screened window frames due to the lack of moving air currents.

Glancing around nonchalantly Helmut surveyed the interior of the local eatery. His ingrained habit of noting every aspect of his immediate surroundings had saved him from arrest and imprisonment many times during past years, especially during and after the recent World War Two. He used his code name, Red Fox, since early 1943 when the German High Command assigned him the responsibility as the chief German espionage agent for the state of Indiana in the United States of America.

Red Fox appeared rather unkempt and disheveled as he tried to relax after a restless night’s sleep in a cramped and moldy tent two miles south of town. He had not shaved or changed his clothes for many days, a degrading aspect of his current status as a fugitive from the law. His situation vexed him since a few years ago he proudly commanded an elite German Panzer Tank Corps.

He shifted about uneasily on the cracked wood seat. Red Fox murmured to himself, I’m glad my communication of several days ago with the two men in Lisbon, Portugal, has been received and understood. Both of these former soldiers served under his command when his German Panzer tanks won many battles as they swept across France during the recent war.

As he pretended to peruse the limited, one-page paper menu that he held up in front of his face, his roving eyes captured the moving forms of two slouched-over men cautiously entering the coffee shop. The strangers hesitated as they surveyed the interior of the room, and then recognizing their former military commander, sauntered slowly toward him. Colonel Schmidt lifted his right hand slightly in the Nazi salute as the new arrivals recognized him as their likely contact and slid into the booth on the opposite side.

Good afternoon, Bruno and Udo, brusquely offered the stoney-faced colonel in a commanding tone. Thank you for joining me here at this small cafe and coffee shop in this isolated village with the odd name of Pumpkin Blossom. I am thankful you received my coded letter addressed to you at your hotel near the Monsanto Forest Park in Lisbon. You both are to be commended for making the long journey from Portugal to this isolated town in Indiana.

Ya, this place is a real dump, scowled Udo, grabbing a menu and looking around the cafe.

Ignoring Udo’s ungrateful remark, Red Fox explained, This eating establishment is the only place within miles to buy a meal. However, the remoteness of the location is to our advantage. Here we can talk and make secret plans without fear of exposure.

Hello, Red Fox, acknowledged Bruno, hesitantly in a low voice with his head lowered. A short, dumpy, bull-necked man with deep-set eyes that constantly darted about, he bent his head down and asked, or should we address you as Colonel and salute you?

No, you are not under my official command. However, I am your leader in the quest for a particular medallion, the main topic of our conversation today. You will take all future directions from me. Do you understand?

Both Udo and Bruno nodded sheepishly.

Your efforts will be amply rewarded. Now, tell me, when did you arrive in this country?

Our flight from Lisbon landed in Indianapolis early yesterday morning, informed Udo.

We arrived last night at the nearby town of Princetown on a motorcycle we borrowed from a garage in Indianapolis, added Bruno, with a faint smile and a touch of satisfaction.

We spent the night in a small, cockroach-infested tourist home called the Sleep-Eze, located on the town plaza, informed Udo, his gaze dropping to the menu.

Siphoning petrol from a parked car we filled the tanks of the cycle. We wanted to make sure we had enough fuel for the trip to this village. We parked it out behind this building and covered it with a blanket we liberated from a clothesline in Princetown, added Bruno, hoping to impress Red Fox with his ingenuity and brazenness.

Staring across the booth Red Fox quietly scrutinized the newcomers. He remembered them from his army service days during the recent war as unruly soldiers assigned to his command. Both Bruno and Udo, being physically unattractive and boorish in behavior, had matured through life without close friends or success in either personal advancement or achievement.

Bruno’s unpleasing face, narrow and angular, seemed much too long for his stumpy neck and torso. Extremely bow-legged he swayed when he walked as if constantly straddling a fire plug. He had a nervous habit of jerking his head up and down and, at the same time, constantly licking his lips that were fleshy and curled up at the corners. His bloodshot eyes offered the only color to his sallow face.

Nervous, lanky and round-faced with heavy black eyebrows above fleshly dark eyelids, a stark contrast to his pallid complexion, Udo, at six feet seemed extremely tall when he stood next to Bruno. His disagreeable face with ample nose curving down almost hiding his thin upper lip caused people to stare. Dark circles framed each eye giving him the appearance that perhaps he wore goggles.

Red Fox remembered them as passionless malcontents. They were unruly soldiers frequently confined in the guardhouse, charged with theft and insubordination. He recalled an unsettling act on their part after one battle skirmish when they stole the general’s motorcycle and rode around enjoying the laudatory salutes and laughter of the other soldiers. Red Fox thought to himself, ‘Yes, they are the right choice for the unsavory tasks I have in mind.’

Remember to always call me Red Fox, cautioned the German colonel. The Indiana state police and the American F.B.I. are constantly looking for German officers and agents who escaped from Europe during and after the recent war. They no doubt have my picture and given name on their records. That is the reason I let my beard grow. We must be most cautious. Now, are you two former German soldiers ready to become wealthy by following my orders?

Yes sir. We haven’t had any action since we escaped from that holding area for Axis prisoners in southern Germany, informed Bruno, leaning forward over the table. Fortunately we were held in the American zone. We made enough money playing dice with the well-heeled Yankee sentries to buy our airline tickets.

Ya, two prisoners held in our camp served with your Panzer Tank Corps, Red Fox. They told us that you now worked under cover in the U.S. somewhere in the state of Indiana. We finally escaped by cutting the barbed wire at night. Weeks later, after walking for many kilometers, we slipped into Portugal in December, 1946. We slept in the park under a tree until we liberated a wallet from a well-dressed man walking his dog in the park. His pocketbook contained a lot of cash, enough for our room rent and meals at the nearby hotel.

You would be proud of us, Red Fox. I ‘snuck’ up behind him and poked a stick in his back, related Bruno, smiling. When he turned around I gave him one of those maneuvers to the solar-plexus, that special move you taught us in the army. He made an awful sound when he hit the ground. Then we rented a room at the hotel and enjoyed a bath for the first time in days. The next day we decided to buy some decent clothes. We have been marking time for weeks hoping to hear from you. But, we have run out of money and are now destitute. Tired of stealing food for survival, Udo and I are at your service.

Udo, nodding his head in agreement, gave a weak gesture of a salute.

Bruno added, We welcomed your telephone call to us at our hotel in Lisbon. It lifted our spirits, Red Fox. I’m certainly glad we wrote to you a letter in code describing our circumstances and giving you the address at our hotel and the phone number where we could be reached.

Bruno then leaned forward, his devious gaze making contact with Red Fox’s steel-gray eyes, and said, We met a mutual Panzer tank friend in Lisbon, whose name will remain unspoken because near the end of the war he deserted the German Panzer Corps. He gave us your mailing address at Princetown. He had traveled in the state of Indiana in the early 1930’s, and he informed us that Princetown is only a few miles from Pumpkin Blossom.

Our Panzer Tank Corps did have several desertions toward the end of the war. A close friend, an officer, disappeared into a wooded area one cloudy night. We have been in contact since Germany surrendered. I wonder if he is the one who gave you my address.

We know you have important news for us, Red Fox, because you said something about stealing a valuable pendant or medallion as you called it, that could lead us to great wealth, gushed Udo.

Don’t talk so loud, Udo. Your broken English is an obvious indication you are a foreigner. Here comes the man to take our order. I think he is the owner of the coffee shop. Let me do the talking. My German accent is hardly noticeable.

Good morning, folks, offered Sedric, order pad and pencil in hand. We have a very good special today…..a roast beef sandwich with slaw and fried potatoes.

Good. Bring us three specials please, and coffee all around, smiled Red Fox, talking with a mild, low-keyed voice.

When Sedric retired, Red Fox leaned over the table top and mentioned, The coffee here is quite good….when the food arrives, eat slowly. We will be here for perhaps an hour. I have some very important information to share and directives for you to follow if you desire to become wealthy. He knew that it would take time for his information and directions to sink into the dense consciousness of the men sitting in front of him. Their past activities had confirmed his appraisal of their sparse mental ability and unpredictable actions.

Yes, responded Bruno, we are very anxious to listen and hear your proposal. Your suggestions as to how we can become rich appeals to our basic natures.

Udo scooted forward and licked his lips, his noxious breath causing Red Fox to recoil back against the back of the booth. He suggested, Red Fox, you indicated the three of us will become millionaires simply by fitting together five pieces of metal to complete a mysterious puzzle. I’m going to enjoy my time working with you……I had fun working puzzles when I was a young lad. Settling back he grinned widely, exposing a few sparse black teeth.

I will explain my plan in detail as we eat our meals, directed Red Fox, without emotion. He sat there staring at the two men. In his mind he tried to formulate words that would be understood by the mentally deficient subjects with limited imagination who shared his booth.

CHAPTER 2

S EDRIC APPEARED AT THEIR TABLE balancing three large plates loaded with food on his arm.

After placing the warm plates on the wood surface of the table with a thud he asked, Can I bring you men anything else?

Yes, more coffee, please, suggested Red Fox, blandly.

All three men suffering from hunger pains now grabbed their forks and began devouring the victuals. They spoke not a word for several minutes as they scooped the food into their wide open mouths. Gradually the cracked dinner plates became bare as they mopped the surfaces with slices of bread. Their hunger subsided.

As the conversation lagged, Udo lifted his mug of steaming black coffee to his nervous lips. He peered at Red Fox and asked, What happened to the female chemist you worked with while you served in the chemical corps during the last months of the war, after the American Army destroyed your tanks? I understand she is a brilliant chemist and the two of you experimented with a chemical compound that when consumed by bovines would make the cattle respond according to your programmed directions.

Setting his mug on the table with a thud he wiped his mouth with his shirt sleeve and added, Bruno and I heard about your experiments through the grapevine at the holding center for German prisoners. All kinds of rumors and gossip constantly circulated about the camp.

After swallowing another gulp of hot coffee, Udo continued, his bushy eyebrows quivering, Some of our comrades told us about the results of your chemical experiments. They said the chemical compounds you manufactured in those old, isolated buildings, when ingested, could cause a complete German regiment to act like robots or zombies and follow the orders of the commander, even to their death.

That information is correct, answered Red Fox, always glad to share positive information about his past intellectual activities. When the Allied armies approached our laboratory in Europe I escaped with the records of our experiments. Months later we continued the experiments in laboratories hidden in an abandoned coal mine located just a few miles from this town. However, before we could establish trials with human subjects, two stupid interfering detectives operating out of a sheriff’s office in Marston, an Indiana city north of here, discovered and compromised our laboratory.

Really? It’s amazing those detectives could discover your laboratory, stated Bruno, his eyebrows raised. You have always been able to hide your unlawful actions from people with authority. I remember one day after a major battle our commanding general questioned you about a certain tactical decision you had made that resulted in the destruction of ten German Panzer tanks. You skillfully shifted the blame to another tank commander.

Yes, yes, never mind about those past events….. How the detectives found out about our operation in the abandoned coal mine is a mystery that has plagued my mind for days, frowned Red Fox.

Well, we don’t need to worry about those two amateur detectives as we look for the five pieces of metal that make up the medallion.

Don’t be stupid, Bruno, retorted the colonel, with an acid tone. We can assume those detectives are still alive. They are smart and very nosy.

The ability of experimenters to control the actions of human subjects would be a very important and lucrative discovery, Red Fox, stated Bruno seriously, his eyes widening. He wasn’t sure what the word lucrative meant but his using it in a sentence would certainly impress Red Fox. He leaned forward and scooped a final huge amount of slaw into his gaping mouth.

You, no doubt, could replicate the experiments, Red Fox. Then we could benefit from your expertise, suggested Udo. Selling the resulting compound to our friends in South America would make us quite wealthy.

No, replied Red Fox, firmly. I am an esteemed chemist by training but the complex chemistry involved in the necessary experimental procedures is known only by my former colleague, who operates with the code name, Hilda.

Where is this Hilda person now? asked Udo, burping loudly.

I don’t know, sighed Red Fox, with nostalgia. After the discovery of the laboratory our trusted leader with the code name, ‘The Mayor’, ordered Hilda and me to return to our abandoned facility located deep inside the nearby coal mine. He requested that we gather all important documents related to the experiments so we could retain possession of the laboratory results and related information. He assured us we would then go as a group to Princetown where he had an airplane stored in a hanger waiting to transport us to South America. The Mayor assured everyone he possessed a pilot’s license.

Red Fox frowned and hesitated. Reviewing the events of that day proved to be painful, even to a seasoned Panzer tank commander. After a moment’s pause he continued, When Hilda and I returned to the mine entrance we discovered the Mayor and all three of our trusted colleagues had left in the jeep that had been purchased for just such an escape. Abandoned by our ungrateful, turncoat associates, Hilda and I, being very resourceful, made our way by foot to this town of Pumpkin Blossom. Sitting in this very coffee shop we planned our future.

What a story of raw courage, Red Fox. And, what a devious back-stabbing man that comrade who calls himself ‘The Mayor’ turned out to be, stated Udo, doubling up his fists.

Where have you been staying since that awful day?

After we had rested and eaten our meals, I left Hilda sitting here in this very booth. I told her that I needed to visit the toilet. Instead of going inside the ‘lav’ I slipped out the rear door and have been hiding out in the back country since that day. The survival training I received in the German army has served me well.

Then in an attempt to justify his cowardly actions in abandoning a co-worker he stated, I knew Hilda couldn’t survive if she followed me into the rugged countryside surrounding this town…..and, she is an intelligent woman. I have no doubt she endured.

Do you still have the formulas for the chemical compounds you and Hilda developed in the coal mine? asked Udo, hopefully.

No, in my haste to leave this cafe I left all such information with my co-worker, Hilda.

Alright, demanded Bruno, burping loudly and plopping his fork down on the table top, enough talk about past events.

Staring at Red Fox he stated, "Udo and I didn’t risk our necks traveling to Indianapolis from Lisbon to hear your life story. What are you going to tell us that will put money in our pockets? We want to know about this