thillerman.theblessingway-第23部分

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　He　paused　again；　thinking　of　the　sand　on　Canfield's　lips　and　that　something　might　go　wrong　with　this　plan。
　〃That　sound　all　right？〃　he　asked。
　The　Big　Navajo　moved　his　thumb　absently　back　and　forth　over　his　finger　tips；　studying　McKee's　face。
　〃Does　Green　have　any　schedule　of　where　you're　supposed　to　go　next？〃
　〃We　didn't　have　any　definite　plans。〃
　〃Would　Green　be　writing　you　anywhere？　Anywhere　set　up　to　pick　up　letters？〃
　〃Just　Shoemaker's　while　we　were　here。〃　He　noticed　Miss　Leon　was　still　looking　at　him　and　he　felt　himself　flush。　〃We　tell　him　where　to　forward　to　if　we　move。　He'd　get　this　letter　from　me　saying　where　we　were　going　and　telling　him　to　send　our　mail　to　the　store　at　Mexican　Water。　It　seems　natural。　You　think　he'd　check　on　it？〃
　〃Let's　see　how　it　looks　on　paper；〃　the　Navajo　said。
　McKee　had　been　holding　his　right　hand　straight　down。　It　had　hurt；　but　the　increased　blood　pressure　should；　he　thought；　build　up　the　swelling。　He　raised　it　now；　intending　to　feign　pain。　No　pretense　was　necessary。　The　hurt　was　so　far　beyond　what　he　had　expected　that　his　gasp　was　involuntary。　He　felt　sweat　on　his　face　and　nausea　in　his　throat。　When　he　finally　rested　his　right　forearm　on　the　hood；　he　slumped　against　the　truck；　breathing　hard；　too　dizzy　to　notice　whether　the　Navajo　had　registered　all　this。　I　can't　spoil　this　now；　he　thought。　He　has　to　believe　I'm　really　trying。
　〃I'll　start　it；　'Dear　Dr。　Green；'〃　he　said。　His　voice　was　thick。
　He　moved　his　right　hand　slowly　and　took　the　pen　between　his　thumb　and　forefinger。　In　a　moment　he　had　one　more　gamble　to　make。　He　would　suggest　that　he　try　to　write　the　letter　with　his　left　hand；　explaining　to　Dr。　Green　that　he　had　injured　his　right　one。　He　didn't　think　the　big　man　would　call　this　bluff。　If　the　man　was　as　smart　as　he　seemed　to　be；　he　would　see　the　objections。　Green　would　wonder　why　Canfield　hadn't　written　instead。　And　he　would　wonder　why　McKee　wasn't　ing　in　for　medical　attention。　And　the　handwriting　would　be　unidentifiable　anyway…and　that　obviously　was　important。　But；　if　he　didn't　see　the　objections；　this　whole　desperate　play　for　time　might　collapse。
　He　shifted　the　pen　into　the　proper　position；　lowered　the　point　and　started　the　〃D。〃　The　Navajo　was　watching　him　intently。
　Again；　a　fresh　wave　of　pain　helped　his　performance。　The　flinch　was　pletely　Involuntary；　the　spasm　of　a　tortured　nerve。
　〃Don't　write　it；〃　Miss　Leon　said　suddenly。　T　don't　trust　him。〃
　The　Navajo　turned　toward　her。
　〃Ellen；〃　McKee　said　hurriedly；　〃if　you　had　shown　a　little　sense　earlier　we　wouldn't　be　here。　If　you'd　use　what　little　brains　you　have；　you'd　see　that　this　letter　is　our　only　way　out　of　this　mess。　Now　shut　up。〃
　He　hoped；　as　he　said　it；　that　the　anger　would　sound　sincere　to　the　Navajo　and　insincere　to　Miss　Leon　and　thought　bitterly　that　the　reverse　would　probably　be　true。　The　hurt　in　Miss　Leon's　face　looked　genuine　and　the　Navajo's　expression　was　unreadable。
　He　tried　again　with　the　pen；　finishing　the　〃Dear〃　this　time；　and　inspected　the　wavering　scrawl　with　satisfaction。
　〃That's　fairly　close；〃　he　said。　It　looked　nothing　at　all　like　his　handwriting　and　the　Navajo　had　plenty　of　samples　in　his　field　notes　to　make　the　parison。
　〃It's　not　close　enough；〃　the　Navajo　said。
　〃How　about　writing　it　with　my　left　hand？〃　McKee　said　suddenly。　〃We　could　say　I'd　hurt　my　right　one。〃　He　tried　to　make　his　glance　at　the　Indian　seem　natural；　and　held　his　breath。
　〃Dr。　McKee。　Think　about　it。　That　wouldn't　look　like　your　handwriting。　If　it　doesn't　look　like　your　handwriting；　it　won't　work　no　matter　what　you　say。〃　The　Navajo　was　looking　at　McKee　curiously。　〃Why　would　you　write　Dr。　Green　a　lefthanded　letter　with　Dr。　Canfield　around　to　write　letters？〃
　〃Just　a　thought；〃　McKee　mumbled。
　The　Navajo　looked　at　his　watch　and　then；　for　a　long　moment；　at　the　man　called　Eddie。　Eddie　shrugged。　〃Whatever　you　think；〃　he　said。　〃I　don't　know　the　odds。〃
　McKee　was　suddenly　chillingly　aware　that　his　life　was　being　decided。　The　Navajo　looked　at　him；　his　face　bland；　with　no　trace　of　malice　or　anger。　McKee　was　conscious　of　the　ragged　line　rimming　the　iris　of　the　Indian's　eyes；　of　the　blackness　of　the　pupils；　conscious　that　behind　that　blackness　an　intelligence　was　balancing　whatever　considerations　it　gave　weight　and　deciding　whether　he　would　die。
　〃The　hell　of　it　is；〃　the　Big　Navajo　said；　〃we　don't　know　how　long　we're　stuck　here。〃
　〃Whatever　you　think；〃　Eddie　said　again。　〃Lot　of　money　involved。〃
　〃Let's　see　that　hand　again；〃　the　Indian　ordered。
　McKee　raised　it　slowly；　palm　upward；　toward　the　Navajo。
　He　leaned　slightly　forward；　scrutinizing　the　twisted　finger。　Like；　McKee　thought；　a　housewife　inspecting　a　slightly　off…color　roast。
　〃Maybe　soaking　it　will　get　that　swelling　down；〃　the　Indian　said。　〃Soak　it　in　hot　water　and　get　the　swelling　out。　We'll　take　'em　up　to　the　cliff　place；　Eddie。〃
　From　behind　him；　McKee　heard　a　faint　click。
　Eddie　had　slipped　the　safety　catch　on　his　automatic　back　into　place。
　〃It's　almost　four　o'clock；〃　the　Navajo　said。　〃The　hell　of　it　is　with　this　job　we　never　know　how　much　time　we　have。〃
　
　Chapter　15
　
　At　approximately　four　o'clock　Joe　Leaphorn；　sweating　profusely；　led　his　borrowed　horse　the　last　steep　yards　to　the　top　of　the　ridge　behind　Ceniza　Mesa。　Almost　immediately　he　found　exactly　what　he　had　hoped　to　find。　And　when　he　found　it　the　pieces　of　the　puzzle　locked　neatly　into　place…confirming　his　meticulously　logical　conclusions。　He　knew　why　Luis　Horseman　had　been　killed。　He　knew；　with　equal　certainty；　that　the　Big　Navajo　had　done　the　killing。　The　fact　that　he　had　no　idea　how　he　could　prove　it　was　not；　for　the　moment；　important。
　At　about　ten　minutes　after　four　o'clock；　Lieutenant　Leaphorn　found　something　he　had　not　expected　to　find　on　the　Ceniza　ridge。　And　suddenly　he　was　no　longer　sure　of　anything。　This　unexpected　fact　visible　at　his　feet　fell　like　a　stone　in　a　reflecting　pool；　turning　the　mirrored　image　into　shattered　confusion。　The　answer　he　had　found　converted　itself　into　another　question。　Leaphorn　no　longer　had　any　idea　why　Horseman　had　died。　He　was；　in　fact；　more　baffled　than　ever。
　Leaphorn　had　left　the　Chinle　subagency　at　noon；　towing　Sam　George　Takes's　horse　and　trailer；　determined　to　learn　what　the　Big　Navajo　had　been　doing　at　Ceniza　Mesa。　At　first　he　drove　faster　than　he　should　because　he　was　worried。　Billy　Nez　had　e　home　from　the　Enemy　Way；　picked　up　his　rifle；　and　left　again　on　his　pony。　Charley　Nez；　as　usual；　didn't　know　where　he　had　gone。　But　Leaphorn　could　guess。　And　he　didn't　like　the　conclusion。　He　was　sure　Billy　Nez　would　ride　to　the　place　where　Luis　Horseman　had　hidden。　Nez　would　pick　up　the　tracks　of　the　Big　Navajo's　Land…Rover　there；　and　he　would　follow　it。　Because　Leaphorn　couldn't　think　his　way　through　the　puzzle　of　Luis　Horseman's　death；　he　had　no　idea　what　Nez　would　find…if　anything。　And　because　Leaphorn　didn't　know；　he　worried。
　Leaphorn　began　driving　more　slowly　and　worrying　less　as　the　carryall　climbed　the　long　slope　past　Many　Farms。　He　had　been　working　his　way　methodically　around　the　crucial　question；　the　question　which　held　the　key　to　this　entire　affair；　the　question　of　motive。　By　the　time　the　carryall　reached　the　summit　of　the　grade　and　began　the　gradual　drop　to　Agua　Sal　Wash　the　answer　was　taking　shape。　He　pulled　off　the　asphalt；　parked　on　the　shoulder　and　sat；　examining　his　potential　solution　for　flaws。　He　could　find　no　serious　ones；　and　that　eliminated　his　worry　about　young　Nez。　Nez　almost　certainly　wouldn't　find　the　Big　Navajo　on　the　Lukachukai　plateau。　The　man　would　be　long　gone。　And；　if　he　did　find　him；　it　wouldn't　matter　much　unless　Nez　did　something　remarkably　foolish。
　Leaphorn　went　through　his　solution　again；　looking　for　a　hole。　The　Big　Navajo　must　have　found　the　Army's　missing　rocket　on　Ceniza　Mesa。
　Why；　Leaphorn　asked　himself　angrily；　had　he　been　so　quick　to　reject　this　idea　when　he　learned　the　reward　was　canceled？　The　Big　Navajo　had　been　clearing　a　track　to　the　top　when　Billy　Nez　found　him　and　stole　the　hat。　He　would　have　needed　such　a　road　to　haul　the　remains　down。　And　then　he　had　cached　the　rocket　somewhere　until　he　could　find　out　how　to　collect　the　reward。　Horseman　had　found　the　rocket　and　claimed　it。　A　Navajo　would　not　kill　for　money；　but　he　would　kill　in　anger。　The　two　had　fought…fought　in　some　sandy　arroyo　bottom。　Horseman　had　been　smothered。　And　the　Big　Navajo　had　moved　his　body　down　to　Teastah　Wash。　Why？　〃To　avoid　having　the　area　where　his　rocket　was　hidden　searched　by　Law　and　Order　people　looking　for　Horseman。〃　Now　the　Big　Navajo　was　waiting；　with　the　inbred　patience　of　the　Dinee；　for　the　moment　when　sun；　wind；　and　birdsong　made　the　time　seem　right　to　claim　the　Army's　10；000。　Or　perhaps　he　had　learned　by　now　that　the　reward　had　been　canceled。　It　seemed　to　make　little　difference。　Leaphorn　could　think　of　no　possible　way　to　connect　the　missile　with　the　murder。
　He　looked　out　across　the　expanse　of　the　Agua　Sal　Valley；　past　Los　Gigantes　Buttes。　There　was　Ceniza　Mesa…twenty　miles　away；　a　table…topped　mass　of　stone　rising　out　of　an　ocean　of　ragged　erosion　like　an　immense　aircraft　carrier。　Eons　ago　the　mesa　had　been　part　of　the　Lukachukai　plateau。　It　was　still　moored　to　the　mountain　ramparts　by　a　sway…backed　saddle　ridge。　It　was　on　that　saddle　ridge　that　Billy　Nez　had　seen　the　Big　Navajo　working　and　it　was　there　Leaphorn　would　prove　his　theory。　Perhaps　Billy　Nez　had　lied。　Leaphorn　thought　about　it。　Billy　Nez　hadn't　lied。
　He　pulled　the　carryall　back　on　the　pavement　and　drove　down　the　slope　toward　Round　Rock；　enjoying　the　beauty　of　the　view。　For　the　first　time　since　the　body　of　Luis　Horseman　had　been　found　he　felt　at　peace　with　himself。　He　switched　on　the　radio。　〃Ha　at　isshq　nilj？〃　the　broadcast　voice　demanded。　〃What　clan　are　you？　Are　you　in　the　Jesus　clan？〃　Navajo　with　a　Texas　accent。　A　radio　preacher　from　Gallup。　Leaphorn　pushed　the　button。　Country　music　from　Cortez。　He　snapped　off　the　radio。
　〃He　stirs；　he　stirs；　he　stirs；　he　stirs；〃　Leaphorn　sang。
　〃Among　the　lands　of　dawning；　he　stirs；　he　stirs。
　The　pollen　Of　dawning；　he　stirs；　he　stirs。
　Now　in　old　age　wandering；　he　stirs；　he　stirs。
　Now　on　the　trail　of　beauty；　he　stirs；　Talking　God；　he　stirs。。。〃
　The　mood　lasted　past　Round　Rock；　pas