Darrel Newell
© 2006 All rights reserved
San Xavier Mission Church, Tucson, Arizona
It was deep into the night and a full moon lit the white plaster walls of the courtyard. A soft
crunching of gravel betrayed a figure, a deep black silhouette in the shadows, slowly making its way
along the courtyard wall. For a moment the figure stepped out of the shadow into the full moonlight
as he crossed to the high church wall. A weathered wooden door glowed the color of dark honey in
the moonlight. The apparition knocked softly. With a muted scratch a key turned in the well worn
lock and the massive door opened. A very heavy object, about three feet long and wrapped in canvas
was placed in the arms of the apparition. Straining under the weight he retraced his steps out of
the courtyard. After passing through the outer gate he faded into the scrub mesquite trees lining
the wash behind the church. A few minutes later came the whine of a starter and a motor sputtered to
life.
11:00 AM Starr Auto Repair, South Tucson
The hot desert air nearly took Peter Rossi's breath away
as he emerged from his air conditioned car. The FBI agent was in his mid twenties, trim, medium
height, short haircut. He had an open, honest face and intelligent hazel eyes. He was wearing the
FBI uniform, a white shirt, conservative tie and slacks.
Peter stretched his arms and back, working the stiff muscles. He was frustrated. This case seemed
minor even for a beginning FBI agent. His boss thought that because he grew up in Tucson he could
use his local knowledge. Peter had hoped to be fighting terrorists, not hunting a missing statue.
During the two and a half hour drive down from Phoenix Peter had reviewed the crime in his mind. The
statue of a saint, created about 1780, had been stolen from San Xavier Mission church on the Tohono
O'Odham reservation. Was it local vandals or art thieves? Two known art thieves, a Joseph Sabat and
Henry Owen Smythe, both specializing in this type of art, were last seen in Albuquerque. Peter had
brought along their photos for identification purposes. To check on the local bad boys angle he had called
his childhood friend Jimmy Espinoza. Jimmy was a member of the Tohono O'Odham tribe and lived on
the reservation where San Xavier Mission was located.
As Peter started towards the run down building that housed Starr Auto Repair, Jimmy Espinoza stepped
out the open garage door into the brilliant sunlight.
"Hey Peter, how are you?" Jimmy called out as he walked towards the car.
Jimmy was a medium height, slim young man in a light blue work shirt and worn blue jeans. His skin
was a very dark brown, a combination of his Tohono O'Odham heritage and lots of exposure to the
desert sun. In spite of his lean angular frame his face had the characteristic rounded look of the
Tohono O'Odham. His eyes were the darkest brown. His smile showed a perfect set of white teeth as
he extended his hand to Peter.
"I'm doing good," replied Peter, "but I never thought I would have to wear one of these to work,"
holding up his brown striped tie.
"It looks good on you Peter", said Jimmy smiling widely. "So. An FBI agent. Do you have any
suspects in our little robbery."
"Actually I do have a couple possibilities," responded Peter. "Did you or your grandfather hear if
any local folks might be involved?"
"I spoke to my grandfather last night", said Jimmy. "He has some things to tell us. And remember when we
were children how interested you were in some of our tribal ceremonies. Well, he has invited us to the
Tash ceremony, a very rare ceremony done only when the elders feel the need. I hope you brought the
extra clothes. It will mean camping out in the mountains tonight. Also, Grandfather felt it would
help you understand the case if you knew the history of the San Xavier Mission."
"All I know is that it is the best preserved of the Spanish Mission churches from the 1700's."
"I'll go back a bit farther than that," explained Jimmy. "When the Spanish arrived here in the
1690's there was a Tohono O'Odaham village on the site of the church. The Tohono O'Odham had arrived
here about 1100 AD. At that time there was a village on the site inhabitated by the Hohokam, who had
lived there from about 300 BC. It was likely there were people living on the same site when the
Hohokam arrived. Anyway, according to our legends, when my people arrived there had been a long
period of drought and the Hohokam had been reduced to just a few people. As luck would have it the
year we arrived the rains began and the drought ended. What I'm getting at Peter, is that there is
at least two thousand years of history on this same site."
"What does this all mean to me," asked Jimmy.
"Grandfather wanted you to think about this as you do your investigation. He wanted you to try and
keep in mind the unique situation surrounding this church."
"OK. But it's hard to relate what you are talking about to the robbery of a statue of a Catholic
saint."
"Well, you know Grandfather. Mr inscrutable. Hey, I'd better get back to work", said Jimmy. "Good
luck on the investigation this afternoon. We'll meet you about 5:30 in front of the church."
San Xavier
Peter left I-19, crossed the Santa Cruz river bed and followed the road past the
irrigated fields then turned north unto Mission road. As he approached the mission complex he was
struck by the size of the church in relation to everything around it. He imagined for a moment what
it must have seemed like to the Tohono O'Odham villagers in 1790, living in their small single story
dwellings. It was so much larger and grander than any other structure it must have seemed to be
from another world.
Peter parked his car near the book store entrance. He entered the inner courtyard through the arched
gate and proceeded along the front of the church. There were several doors into the interior where
one could buy votive candles, see historical information and go through to central courtyard.
"Could you tell me where can I find Father Martin", Peter asked the candle vendor.
"Follow the inner courtyard around to the left until you come to the main church building."
Following directions, Peter found a door marked 'Fr Martin'. He knocked and from inside came a
polite "Enter."
"Good afternoon Father. My name is Peter Rossi with the FBI. We spoke on the telephone."
"Ah yes. Please sit down. How can I help you?" asked Father Martin.
Peter opened his briefcase and took out two 8 X 10 pictures.
"Have you seen anyone looking like either of these men on the grounds or in the church in the last
week," asked Peter.
Father Martin took the two pictures and studied them. "You know, I believe I might have seen this
man. But I don't see all that much of the tourists. You should show them to the lady that sells
candles and the clerks in the book store. They see many more visitors than I do."
"Thank you, Father," said Peter as he rose and extended his hand. "I'll do exactly that."
Peter showed the pictures to the candle vendor, the bookstore clerks and the janitor. Everyone
pointed to the same picture, saying they had seen someone that resembles him around the premises in
the last week. At four o'clock Peter called the FBI office in Phoenix and left a message: issue an
arrest bulletin for one Joseph Sabat on suspicion of art theft.
Beneath the shroud of time
Peter leaned casually against his car and watched the old blue pickup
come towards him. He had changed into his mountain climbing clothes. He felt good. The case seemed
to be in hand. And he was looking forward to seeing the unusual ceremony. The pickup slowed to a
stop, trailing a small cloud of dust. At the wheel was Grandfather Espinoza, a large framed man,
rather gaunt, showing the wrinkles and sagging skin of age, but still an imposing figure. Sitting
beside him was Jimmy. Jimmy spoke through the pickup window, "Hey Peter, ready to climb a
mountain?"
"Well old buddy, I have the thief ID'd and a warrant is out for his arrest. I'm carefree and fancy
free," said Peter happily.
Jimmy exchanged looks with his grandfather. "Oh, so you have the thief," said Jimmy with a grin.
"Congratulations. Jump in. We have a ways to go."
Peter got in beside Jimmy and the pickup moved off.
It was after sunset when they parked the pickup. It was about a mile out of the village and the road
just disappeared. Exiting the pickup they began walking, Grandfather Espinoza leading the way. They
climbed steadily for more than an hour, their breath coming more and more labored. At last Grandpa
Espinoza stopped. They were at the edge of a cliff that seemed to drop into a bottomless blackness
while on the right a vertical rock wall towered above them.
"My God," said Peter. "What do we do now?"
"We rest", said Grandfather Espinoza as he sat down. "The rest of the way requires your full
attention."
Grandfather Espinoza handed them each a small burrito. It contained a very strong pepper, bringing
tears to Peter's eyes.
"The pepper helps clear your eyes so you see better in the dark. Now drink a little water and we
will finish the journey."
All three men took a good drink of water from the canteen. Then Grandfather Espinoza got up and
walked to the intersection of the vertical wall and the cliff. In front of him was a two foot
diameter rock. He reached down and rolled the rock back towards him then off to the side. Now you
could now see a man made path cut into the side of the rock face, about 18 inches deep.
"You've got to be kidding me," said Peter. "We're going on that. At night."
Grandfather Espinoza smiled. Following his example, the Jimmy and Peter put their backs tight
against the rock face and began inching along the path sideways. Jimmy and his grandfather seemed
quite comfortable on the moonlit cliff face but Peter Rossi's heart was racing and cold sweat had
formed on his forehead. Suddenly his foot slipped and as he caught himself he heard loose pebbles
rattling down and down until the sound was to faint to hear any more.
"What the hell am I doing here," Peter thought, "This is crazy."
They continued inching along the face of the cliff for about 100 feet, then the path got wider and
to Peter's great surprise, led into the opening of a cave. About 15 feet inside the cave was a
lantern sitting on an outcropping on the cave wall, filling the front part of the cave with light.
Another 15 feet inside sat three old men, humming rhythmically, sitting around a flat topped rock
pedestal.
"This is the beginning of the Tash ceremony", said Jimmy. "They will keep up the singing until
sunrise. Let's try get some sleep. Here is our sleeping gear."
The two very tired young men laid down and to the sound of muted humming, quickly fell asleep.
It seemed like only minutes later that Peter felt a hand on his shoulder, gently shaking him awake.
"Jimmy, what's going on," Peter asked, his voice heavy with sleep.
"It's time for the ceremony," Jimmy whispered hoarsely.
As Peter struggled to a sitting position he heard rather loud chanting.
"Hurry, come over here," called Jimmy softly, from just behind the chanting men.
Peter crawled to Jimmy's side. Through the mouth of the cave he could see the pale pink light of
dawn. As he looked up towards the stone pedestal he couldn't believe his eyes. On the pedestal stood
a three foot plaster saint.
"Jimmy, what the hell is this. Is that the stolen statue?" asked Jimmy in a loud whisper.
"Yes it is," answered Jimmy. "Watch now."
One of the old men grasped the statue and laid it gently on its side. He took a hardwood tool and
loosened the bottom of the statue. He and set the cover on the floor of the cave. A wooden insert
with a small hole in the center was revealed. The old man grasped the insert and slowly and
reverently pulled. The chanting grew louder. A spectacular crystal formation emerged. It was the
most amazing thing Peter had ever seen. It was a growth of crystalline quartz, with small crystals
attached a various angles to a large central crystal. And winding throughout the crystals and
collecting in various pockets was bright shiny gold. The gold winding through the crystal structure
seemed like blood vessels.
Hands reached out and gently laid the now empty statue on the floor beside the pedestal. The crystal
object was placed upright in a shallow indentation in the stone. It glowed with a muted inner light
in the soft dawn light entering the cave.
The chanting changed to a more pleading tone, rising very gradually in volume. Outside the sun was
now over the horizon. Suddenly a narrow beam of intense sunlight emerged from a small hole in the
ceiling. It just touched the side of the pedestal. The chanting rose to a higher pitch as the beam
slowly inched its way across the top of the pedestal toward the crystal structure. Suddenly the
intense beam of sunlight struck the crystal structure. The room exploded into multicolored,
flashing, rippling, pulsing light. As the light reflected and refracted through the crystal
structure it danced about the cave, an ever changing vortex of suns and stars. Peter was overcome by
an intense feeling of awe, as if he were witnessing the formation of the world. The chanting reached
a level bordering on ecstasy. Then the dancing light began to diminish and then was gone. The
chanting stopped. Each person was lost in meditation. Gradually a murmuring began among the old men.
"That was the most incredible thing I have ever seen," whispered Peter.
"That crystal is our most sacred religious object," said Jimmy gravely. "It has been with the Tohono
O'Odham for more than a thousand years. To keep the Spanish from destroying it, the elders decided
to hide it in plain sight. Inside a statue. Each generation a few new members of the tribe are told
of the location of the crystal. My Grandfather is one and now I am. And you are."