FROM WALL STREET TO THE WEST
Financial guru Steven W. Kohlhagen turns to his roots in the American West
high desert for his first historical fiction novel ‘Where They Bury You’
SANTA FE, NEW MEXICO – Steve Kohlhagen wasn’t convinced after reading Hampton
Sides’ nonfiction account, “Blood and Thunder,” that American frontiersman and Indian fighter
Kit Carson’s official report of the events in August 1863 was entirely true. And in the 150th
anniversary year, Kohlhagen begs the question, “Did the Navajos really shoot Carson’s
Marshal?”
His new book “Where They Bury You” puts a different spin on what’s found in the history
books. Based on actual facts and a very real murder, this Western murder mystery takes place
during the Civil War battles in the New Mexico and Arizona Territories. A former Wall Street
investment banker who currently sits on several Board of Directors, most recently joining
Freddie Mac’s, Kohlhagen’s retired life in the San Juan Mountains gives him a unique
perspective on the region about which he writes.
After researching a group of con artists who did, indeed, embezzle millions of today’s dollars,
Kohlhagen sheds fictional light on who committed the actual August 18, 1863 murder of Santa
Fe’s Provost Marshal deep in Navajo Territory. The novel vividly depicts battles among Cochise’s Chiricahua Apaches, the Navajo and other Southwestern Indian tribes, Kit Carson, the Union Army, volunteers from the western Territories, and the attacking Confederate Rebels from Texas.
“Steve Kohlhagen knows the West, knows his history, and combines them here into a fastpaced, irresistible story!” raves Bernard Cornwell, award-winning author of over 50 historical fiction novels who USA Today calls “the reigning king of historical fiction.”
“Where They Bury You” is a thrill ride into the old and mysterious ways of the West, to a place
and time in history that provides surprises along the way.
About the Book
ISBN: 978-0-86534-936-0
Hardcover, $32.95
Paperback, $24.95
eBook, $9.99
344 pages
September 2, 2013
Sunstone Press
In August 1863, during Kit Carson’s roundup of the Navajo, Santa Fe’s Marshal is found dead in an arroyo near what is now the Hubbel Trading Post. The murder, and the roughly million of
today’s dollars in cash and belongings in his saddlebags, is historically factual. Carson’s actual explanation is implausible.
Who did kill Carson’s “brave and lamented” Major? The answer is revealed in this tale of a
group of con artists operating in 1861-1863 in the New Mexico and Arizona Territories. As a
matter of historical fact, millions of today’s dollars were embezzled from the Army, the Church,
and the New Mexico Territory during this time. In this fictionalized version, the group includes a
Santa Fe poker dealer with a checkered past claiming to fall in love with one of her co conspirators and the historically accurate duo of the Marshal of Santa Fe and the aide de camp of the Territories’ Commanding General. It is an epic tale of murder and mystery, of staggering thefts, of love and deceit.
Both a Western and a Civil War novel, this murder mystery occurs in and among Cochise’s
Chiricahua Apache Wars, the Navajo depredations and wars, Indian Agent Kit Carson’s return
from retirement, and the Civil War. The story follows the con artists, some historical, some
fictional, during their poker games, scams, love affairs, and bank robberies, right into that arroyo deep in Navajo country.
About the Author
Steve Kohlhagen is a former, now retired, Economics
professor at the University of California, Berkeley, a
retired Wall Street investment banker, and is on several
corporate boards, most recently elected to the board of
Freddie Mac. While at Berkeley he authored many
economics publications, and he and his wife Gale
jointly published the murder mystery “Tiger Found”
under their pen name Steven Gale in 2008.
Kohlhagen was inspired to write his latest book
“Where They Bury You” after reading Hampton Sides’
“Blood and Thunder,” a non-fiction history of Kit
Carson and the West. Sides’ reporting of the factual
murder of Marshal Joseph Cummings on August 18, 1863 led Kohlhagen to
conduct further research on Carson and Cummings, including at the National
Archives. He also pulled from his own knowledge of the West, as the writer
divides his time between the New Mexico-Colorado border high in the San Juan
Mountains and Charleston, South Carolina.
Q & A with author:
Q&A WITH STEVEN W. KOHLHAGEN
After a successful career in academia and on Wall Street, what made you want to write a historical fiction novel?
I love the West and I love murder mysteries. I read a passage in Hampton Sides’
excellent book “Blood and Thunder” (nonfiction) about the August 1863 murder of a U.S. Marshal in the New Mexico territory that I felt Kit Carson had misreported. Intensive research led me to write this fictionalized historical account of that murder during the American Civil War, Apache Wars and Navajo War. I have a passion for truth that includes the injustices heaped on the Southwestern Indians, especially Cochise, and what I feel is history’s mis-characterization of the roles of Kit Carson and the Navajo themselves. How does your living among the San Juan Mountains influence your writing and details of “Where They Bury You”?
Coincidentally, the (white man’s) history of the area northwest of Santa Fe and Taos into south central Colorado essentially began at the time of Cummings murder. One hundred fifty years later, we live among the descendants of the Jicarilla Apaches, Utes, Navajos, ranchers, and explorers of our area. The appearances in the book of the original scout of this area, Albert Pfeiffer, are historically accurate, and we later discovered that he is buried about forty miles from our home.
A murder mystery based on a true story from the Western Indian wars, how did you wind up with a former prostitute and current poker dealer as the main character?
By accident. Given that the two historically accurate main characters were known
gamblers and womanizers, and that 1861 Santa Fe was basically a church surrounded by a collection of bordellos, gambling halls, and saloons, it wasn't much of a stretch to imagine a character like Lily Smoot who they would both know. The accident part was that she, literally, took the evolving story out of my hands and head, and took over the entire book. I was more surprised than the readers will be.
How did you bring factual events into the fictional story?
I started with the facts, the so-called “big story.” The characters were, in effect,
constrained by the historical facts of the Indian wars and the Civil War when the Texans arrived.
In truth, we all—truthful and fictional characters alike—are living our lives constrained by the general thrust of history that we are caught up in.
Why did Kit Carson and the Navajos get their reputations reversed in handed down
history?
That’s a real life mystery. Carson was a bona fide “blood and thunder” hero of his time, both in real life and the dime novels of his time. General Carleton’s reference to “Moby Dick” in the book is accurate. Melville correctly identified Carson as one of the great American heroes. But Carson was the opposite of a self-promoter, and was actually embarrassed by the attention he received for doing what he thought were merely the right things. He was a beloved Indian agent and devoted husband to two Indian wives. The horrible mistake that was Carleton’s solution to the Navajo problem was Carleton’s responsibility, not Carson’s, and Carleton was rebuked by the military and observers of the time. My sympathies lie almost always with the Native Americans, but the mid-19th Century Navajo, arguably due to previous mistreatment, especially by the Spaniards, had no friends in the American southwest of the time. They raided, enslaved, killed, and stole from whites, New Mexicans, and other Indian tribes alike, a fact that some modern Navajo do concede today. This did not in any way justify Carleton’s appalling, failed solution. Today’s Navajo people are an extraordinarily commendable, popular, well known, and large tribe. They have been raised with their great, great, and great grandparents’ stories of the horrors and deaths of “the long walk” led by Carson, who did indeed implement Carleton’s policy. All of the handed down oral tradition of anger and hatred has been aimed at Carson rather than Carleton. Even though Carleton met with Navajo chiefs and laid out his plan, perhaps the Navajo of the time did not know it was plan. And, of course, the plight of the Navajo due to Carleton’s failed policy resonates more today than the story of a western adventurer (not later adopted by Walt Disney).
What do you think would be tougher to handle – Wall Street, or the West?
Nobody ever shot at me on Wall Street. Or in Berkeley, for that matter. I know hundreds of people who handled Wall Street just fine, but I doubt many of them could have excelled in either Apache Pass or Apache Canyon. But I guess we’ll never know.
What is the book really about? Is there an underlying message?
Yes. Joseph Cummings tells Lily and Auggy the book’s message when he inadvertently gives the book it’s name.
Are there any takeaways for the reader from the history?
History is a fickle handmaiden. Modern Americans readily take ownership of all that is
good about America, and, accordingly should own the hash that the founding fathers, military leaders, and politicians (yes, up through today) have made of our treatment of and relationship with Native Americans and their descendants.
What do you think makes a good mystery novel?
For me, it’s interesting characters combined with a puzzle that the reader must solve with the aid of those characters. Additionally, readers should feel that they are learning some things along the way.
Do you plan to write more books?
Yes. I am currently writing the sequel to “Where They Bury You.” And then.....well, the
answer is “yes.”
JKSCommunications.com
Read an Excerpt!!
Fandangos
in 1861 Santa Fe
Damours had heard so much about
Santa Fe's dance parties, fandangos, that he decided tonight was the night to
see for himself.
Having been given no specific
recommendations from the whores at either Jose's Crib or Maria's, he figured
he'd just walk around and see what he could find by himself on this cold, crisp
New Mexico evening.
It took him ten minutes of
exploring to find three fandangos. Each was identifiable by the bright lights
above the door, the sound of the celebrants and music coming through the
windows and doors, and the people mingling outside, all smoking little hand
rolled cigarritos. With nothing else to guide him, Damours chose the one with
the prettiest girl standing outside, Val Verde Hall.
There were two rooms. The first was
dominated by a large table covered with food, wine, and champagne. He had not
seen this much food since he'd left San Francisco.
There were platters of roasted pork
and shelled oysters. Mounds of oysters. How did they get oysters in New Mexico?
He helped himself to a plate of pork, red chilies, and onions, cebolla, on a
tortilla, and a glass of champagne.
The pretty little girl who had
followed him in promptly asked him for a dollar, and Damours happily complied,
then entered the second room.
It was slightly larger than the
first. There were benches along the walls and a band at the front of the room.
The benches were filled with all manner of people. Wealthy ranchers, little
girls, old men, New Mexicans, two girls he recognized from Maria's,
impoverished farmers in sandals, Mexicans, even a couple of whites, maybe
soldiers. At least a dozen blazing candles and pictures of the Christ and some
Saints adorned the cloth-covered walls. Everybody, man, woman, and child, was
smoking cigarritos.
The center of the room was filled
with dancers. Couples of all shapes and sizes, dancing a giddy waltz together.
Three old men, comprising the surprisingly excellent band, played a guitar, a
fiddle, and a drum. When the music stopped, all the couples graciously parted
with thank you’s and gracias’s amid great merriment.
When the music resumed, women
formed a line to the left and men their own line on the right. At a signal from
the guitarist, the two lines approached each other and met in the middle. The dancers
paired off as the two lines met, each with the partner randomly across from
them.
And off they went. This time the
band played a light vendetta.
The dust kicked up from the boots
and sandals rose into the air to mix with the smoke and the candlelight,
creating a dusky, romantic glow. After watching several dances, Damours joined
the middle of the men’s line.
The music began, and the two lines
converged. Damours found himself face to face, then arm in arm, with an immense
New Mexican woman well into her sixties who spoke no English. She was a very
good dancer, a wonderful laugher, and she loved to waltz. She told him her name
was Beatrice, but indicated she couldn't understand his. No matter. She called
him her Pocolito Gringo. And laughed merrily.
To Damours' surprise he heard the
guitarist sing a refrain about Mama Beatrice and her Pocolito Gringo. When the
music stopped Beatrice curtsied her rough farmer's dress, kissed him on the
cheek, and laughed her way quickly back to the bench.
Damours danced the night away. He
danced with beautiful, black eyed young women, aging farm wives, both beautiful
and not so beautiful farmers' daughters, one of the girl's from Maria's, a
wealthy rancher's wife, Hattie from the hotel reception desk, a now-giggly Beatrice
again, and, to his astonishment, the Governor's wife, who wore more silver
jewelry than he'd ever seen on anyone before.
Some women wore splendid silk, some
calico. Some had expensive silver jewelry and some were wearing colored glass
necklaces and bracelets.
He took special care not to flirt
with any of the women. He'd heard the stories of women's knife fights and men
getting shot at fandangos. He had no desire to find himself at the wrong end of
a husband's or a vengeful girl's wrath. At least not at his very first
fandango.
The music began again, and he moved
forward in the men’s line to receive one of the oncoming girls.
He stopped dead in his tracks as a
grinning Lily Smoot walked into his open arms.
"Having fun, Auggy?"
How long had Lily been here? He
hadn't seen her. How had he never realized how beautiful she was? Or was it the
champagne? Or the smoke and the candlelight?
As they danced a waltz together, he
realized he hadn't said a word.
He looked straight into her eyes.
"Good evening to you, Lil."
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