Force of Blood Read Online Free PDF Page B

real cops, dipstick,” Sedge said angrily, nodding toward Service, “and, more to the point, the DNR grants the right to dig,
not
the state archaeologist.”
    “I’m not going to stand here and argue pointlessly or be insulted anymore,” Toliver said. “These people assaulted us. I want to file charges.”
    “Do what you feel you have to do,” Katsu said flatly.
    Toliver said, “We want our machine back.”
    Service’s eyes narrowed. “You illegally used that thing, so we’ll just hang on to it for now. The walk out will probably do you good.”
    “Illegally?”
    “Riding double, no helmets, nearly plowed into a group of people, riding on the beach, which is against the law—we could keep going with the list, but we’ll leave it at careless operation and just warn you on the other things.”
    He looked at the driver. “Who’re you?”
    “Jane,” she said in a quavering voice.
    Toliver said, “Good God, man—do you realize how far we are from our vehicle?”
    Service said, “More to the point, do
you?
”
    When Toliver and the woman turned and began to trudge east, several Ojibwa blocked their way. Service intervened, separating Toliver and the woman from Katsu’s people. “Okay, fun’s over. Let these people pass.” He nodded at Sedge, who gave the woman named Jane a nudge toward Toliver.
    The four of them walked down the beach.
    “You saw everything,” Toliver said. “The assaults.”
    “I’m not sure what I saw,” Service said. “How long has this pissing match been going on?”
    “We had the first encounter with Katsu last summer. Flin Yardley, the state archaeologist, had already given permission, but we went back and asked again if he was certain there were no remains here, and he told us wewere clear to sink-test holes. Now, every time we show up, Katsu and his thugs are here blocking us. I don’t understand how they always know we’re coming.”
    “A professor where?”
    “Hibernian College near Cleveland.”
    Service had never heard of it. “You teach there?”
    “Twenty years, and I’m curator of the campus museum.”
    “So, if there are bodies here, you can’t legally dig?”
    “If there are bodies, we can dig, but the dig would then have to satisfy federal regs in addition to state regs, and because of NAGPRA, the feds would formally bring Native Americans into the process.”
    “NAGPRA?”
    Sedge blurted out, “That’s the Native American Graves Protection and Repatriation Act, which says nothing can be done to bones without direction by and from the Indians.” Her voice betrayed extreme frustration.
    “Tribals do tend to complicate some things,” Service said, speaking from experience.
    “You’ve dealt with them?” the professor said.
    “The thing is, mostly they just want people to think about what they’re doing.”
    “Bloody hell, man, I
study
them and think about them and their past all the time.”
    “And you’re certain this was no more than a fishing village?”
    “Right—a distinctly minor one, more a safe refuge from inclement weather than a serious, established fishing settlement.”
    “How can you
know
that?”
    “Various European accounts, including the
Jesuit Relations
, all of which formalize the Native oral traditions.”
    Sedge said, “Katsu says you’re wrong.”
    “What does
he
know? These people didn’t even have a written language until Europeans came along, and even that took a couple of centuries. This group of Katsu’s isn’t a federally recognized tribe. They call themselves the Five-Pack Creek Band of aboriginals under the Grand Island Ojibwa but it’s all made up, with absolutely no historical basis. I know; I’ve made a career of studying these people.”
    “Did you two have helmets?” Service asked.
    “No need. We’re on sand, and I drive carefully.”
    Service stopped walking, took out his ticket book, opened it, and started writing.
    “What do you think you’re
doing?
” Toliver asked.
    “Giving you a