[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
signaling the waitress and pointing to their coffee cups.
"Hey," he said. "There's your lawyer lady. We're going to need another cup."
There, indeed, was Janet Pete, standing in the entrance of the Navajo Nation
Inn coffee shop, looking hesitant. She saw that Chee had seen her, and turned
away. Pretending, it seemed to Chee, to be looking for someone.
"Hey, Janet," Blizzard shouted. He stood, waving. Harold Blizzard was far too
large, far too loud to be ignored.
Janet came. She looked at Chee and looked away. "Hello, Harold," she said.
"Hello, Jim."
Chee stood and pulled back a chair for her.
"I met a friend of yours the other day," Blizzard said. "Jim's friend, too, I
guess. Fellow named Asher Davis. He said if he wasn't about sixty pounds
overweight, you two could provide him a perfect alibi in that homicide over at
Tano Pueblo."
"Oh," Janet said. She glanced at Chee, and away.
"He's on the list the feds gave me of people to check out. About a thousand or
so."
"I guess he's right," Janet said. "He went there with Mr. Chee and Cowboy
Dashee and me. And when we decided to watch the ceremony from the roof, he
decided he was too heavy for it to hold him."
"That was before the clowns came out with the wagonload of stuff?" Blizzard
asked. "Or was it after?"
"I think it was before," Janet said. "Yes, it was right at the very
beginning."
"That's the way I remember it, too," Chee said. He was thinking Leaphorn told
Streib about the Lincoln Canes, and Streib told the Albuquerque FBI, and
Blizzard knows his business better than I gave him credit for. "Are you
thinking of Davis as maybe a suspect?"
Blizzard gave him a stern look. "Just my native curiosity," he said.
"I understand Davis looked good for it after the business of the Lincoln Canes
came out," Chee said. "But it turns out he was with an Apache County deputy
sheriff over on the Hopi Reservation when Eric Dorsey was killed."
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Blizzard looked surprised, then angry. "Goddammit," he said. "Why don't
anybody ever tell anybody anything?"
"I had no idea Davis was a suspect," Janet said. "And wait a minute. I thought
you were talking about the Sayesva case. What's the Dorsey killing have to do
with that? Which one are you talking about?"
"Nobody tells me about anything either," Chee said. "I've been out of touch. I
just heard about the phony Lincoln Canes this morning."
"Phony Lincoln whats?" Janet said. "I still haven't heard about them."
And so Chee explained, skipping-Navajo fashion-back to the very beginning with
the Spanish King Charles sending canes to the Indian pueblos in the
seventeenth century, from there to 1863, thence to Leaphorn's discovery of the
sketch on Dorsey's desk. He concluded finally with the presumption that the
package Delmar Kanitewa had taken to his koshare uncle was a copy of the Tano
cane, and the koshare put it in the wagon to warn against selling pueblo
artifacts.
"I'd never even heard of Lincoln Canes," Janet said, looking thoughtful. "Is
it your official 'theory of the crime' now that this cane ties the two
homicides together? Same killer for the man who made it and the man who used
it?"
"I'd say so," Chee said. "More or less."
"How's it work?" Janet asked.
"Sort of like this," Chee said, happy that Janet was once again talking
directly to him and even looking at him. Maybe we're almost back again to
being old friends, he thought. And maybe that was all he could ever hope for.
"Somebody hires Dorsey to make the Pojoaque cane, knowing he can sell it to a
collector of Lincoln rarities because the cane from that pueblo disappeared
generations ago. So he has Dorsey make such a cane, not telling Dorsey what it
is or about the fraud. Then he decides to try again with the Tano cane and
gets Dorsey to make it. Delmar Kanitewa shows up at the shop while Dorsey is
finishing it. He shows it to the boy since he's a Tano kid. Delmar tells
Dorsey what it is."
Chee paused, looked at Janet. "You have to understand this Dorsey is a genuine
straight arrow. Into doing good. Now he figures something crooked must be
going on and he's being used. Probably he figures the real cane is going to be
stolen and this one used to replace it so the theft won't be noticed. So he
gives it to Delmar to take to his uncle with a warning about the impending
theft. And then the guy who commissioned it shows up to collect it, and Dorsey
jumps on him about it and the guy kills Dorsey to protect his secret."
Blizzard made a wry face. "It sounds too damned complicated," he said. "I like
'em simpler. Like the janitor walks in drunk and tries to borrow money and
gets turned down and gets mad and knocks off Dorsey and steals some stuff."
"I don't like that Blizzard theory at all," Janet said. "But I don't know
about the other one either." She thought. "How could this guy sell the second
cane? Nobody would buy it. Collectors know about these things or they wouldn't
be collecting them. They'd know that Tano Pueblo still had its Lincoln Cane.
And so they'd know that the one they'd bought was a fake, or, worse yet, the
one they bought was stolen."
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"So they couldn't brag about it. Or show it off," Blizzard said. "So why buy
it?"
"And why use Dorsey?"
"He had connections with some traders," Chee said. "We know that because he
was helping some of the Navajos out on the Checkerboard get better prices for
their stuff." He paused, remembering what the old woman with the ill husband
had told him. "Including some old stuff that the real collectors go for."
"Okay, but I still see holes in it," Janet said.
"I have trouble with it, too," Chee admitted.
The waitress arrived, bringing Janet a cup of coffee and a refill for Chee and
Blizzard.
"You know," Blizzard said. "I think maybe all three of us are in the same boat
I was in at that Cheyenne Autumn movie the other night. I couldn't understand
why all the Navajos were hooting and blowing their car horns. Different
culture. Different perceptions. There's probably some Tano Pueblo connection
here we just don't fathom." He made a wide, Blizzard-style gesture with his
hands. "Different value systems, you know. Hard for us outsiders to
comprehend."
"Yes," Janet said in a voice almost too low for Chee to hear. "Hard to
comprehend."
"Janet," Chee said. He reached his hand toward her. "There's something I'd
like to explain."
She put down her cup and sat back, not looking at him.
"Well, now," Blizzard said, hastily. "I've got work to do." He picked up the
ticket. "You get the tip," he said to Chee. "See you later, Janet." And he was
gone.
"Me too," Janet said. "I've got to go."
"Where?" Chee said.
"First to Crownpoint. The federals are releasing Ahkeah and I have to do the
paperwork."
"I'm going that direction," Chee said. "Could I give you a ride?"
"I have to go on from there up to Aztec. I have some business at the San Juan
County courthouse."
"That's right on my way," Chee said. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
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signaling the waitress and pointing to their coffee cups.
"Hey," he said. "There's your lawyer lady. We're going to need another cup."
There, indeed, was Janet Pete, standing in the entrance of the Navajo Nation
Inn coffee shop, looking hesitant. She saw that Chee had seen her, and turned
away. Pretending, it seemed to Chee, to be looking for someone.
"Hey, Janet," Blizzard shouted. He stood, waving. Harold Blizzard was far too
large, far too loud to be ignored.
Janet came. She looked at Chee and looked away. "Hello, Harold," she said.
"Hello, Jim."
Chee stood and pulled back a chair for her.
"I met a friend of yours the other day," Blizzard said. "Jim's friend, too, I
guess. Fellow named Asher Davis. He said if he wasn't about sixty pounds
overweight, you two could provide him a perfect alibi in that homicide over at
Tano Pueblo."
"Oh," Janet said. She glanced at Chee, and away.
"He's on the list the feds gave me of people to check out. About a thousand or
so."
"I guess he's right," Janet said. "He went there with Mr. Chee and Cowboy
Dashee and me. And when we decided to watch the ceremony from the roof, he
decided he was too heavy for it to hold him."
"That was before the clowns came out with the wagonload of stuff?" Blizzard
asked. "Or was it after?"
"I think it was before," Janet said. "Yes, it was right at the very
beginning."
"That's the way I remember it, too," Chee said. He was thinking Leaphorn told
Streib about the Lincoln Canes, and Streib told the Albuquerque FBI, and
Blizzard knows his business better than I gave him credit for. "Are you
thinking of Davis as maybe a suspect?"
Blizzard gave him a stern look. "Just my native curiosity," he said.
"I understand Davis looked good for it after the business of the Lincoln Canes
came out," Chee said. "But it turns out he was with an Apache County deputy
sheriff over on the Hopi Reservation when Eric Dorsey was killed."
Page 122
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
Blizzard looked surprised, then angry. "Goddammit," he said. "Why don't
anybody ever tell anybody anything?"
"I had no idea Davis was a suspect," Janet said. "And wait a minute. I thought
you were talking about the Sayesva case. What's the Dorsey killing have to do
with that? Which one are you talking about?"
"Nobody tells me about anything either," Chee said. "I've been out of touch. I
just heard about the phony Lincoln Canes this morning."
"Phony Lincoln whats?" Janet said. "I still haven't heard about them."
And so Chee explained, skipping-Navajo fashion-back to the very beginning with
the Spanish King Charles sending canes to the Indian pueblos in the
seventeenth century, from there to 1863, thence to Leaphorn's discovery of the
sketch on Dorsey's desk. He concluded finally with the presumption that the
package Delmar Kanitewa had taken to his koshare uncle was a copy of the Tano
cane, and the koshare put it in the wagon to warn against selling pueblo
artifacts.
"I'd never even heard of Lincoln Canes," Janet said, looking thoughtful. "Is
it your official 'theory of the crime' now that this cane ties the two
homicides together? Same killer for the man who made it and the man who used
it?"
"I'd say so," Chee said. "More or less."
"How's it work?" Janet asked.
"Sort of like this," Chee said, happy that Janet was once again talking
directly to him and even looking at him. Maybe we're almost back again to
being old friends, he thought. And maybe that was all he could ever hope for.
"Somebody hires Dorsey to make the Pojoaque cane, knowing he can sell it to a
collector of Lincoln rarities because the cane from that pueblo disappeared
generations ago. So he has Dorsey make such a cane, not telling Dorsey what it
is or about the fraud. Then he decides to try again with the Tano cane and
gets Dorsey to make it. Delmar Kanitewa shows up at the shop while Dorsey is
finishing it. He shows it to the boy since he's a Tano kid. Delmar tells
Dorsey what it is."
Chee paused, looked at Janet. "You have to understand this Dorsey is a genuine
straight arrow. Into doing good. Now he figures something crooked must be
going on and he's being used. Probably he figures the real cane is going to be
stolen and this one used to replace it so the theft won't be noticed. So he
gives it to Delmar to take to his uncle with a warning about the impending
theft. And then the guy who commissioned it shows up to collect it, and Dorsey
jumps on him about it and the guy kills Dorsey to protect his secret."
Blizzard made a wry face. "It sounds too damned complicated," he said. "I like
'em simpler. Like the janitor walks in drunk and tries to borrow money and
gets turned down and gets mad and knocks off Dorsey and steals some stuff."
"I don't like that Blizzard theory at all," Janet said. "But I don't know
about the other one either." She thought. "How could this guy sell the second
cane? Nobody would buy it. Collectors know about these things or they wouldn't
be collecting them. They'd know that Tano Pueblo still had its Lincoln Cane.
And so they'd know that the one they'd bought was a fake, or, worse yet, the
one they bought was stolen."
Page 123
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
"So they couldn't brag about it. Or show it off," Blizzard said. "So why buy
it?"
"And why use Dorsey?"
"He had connections with some traders," Chee said. "We know that because he
was helping some of the Navajos out on the Checkerboard get better prices for
their stuff." He paused, remembering what the old woman with the ill husband
had told him. "Including some old stuff that the real collectors go for."
"Okay, but I still see holes in it," Janet said.
"I have trouble with it, too," Chee admitted.
The waitress arrived, bringing Janet a cup of coffee and a refill for Chee and
Blizzard.
"You know," Blizzard said. "I think maybe all three of us are in the same boat
I was in at that Cheyenne Autumn movie the other night. I couldn't understand
why all the Navajos were hooting and blowing their car horns. Different
culture. Different perceptions. There's probably some Tano Pueblo connection
here we just don't fathom." He made a wide, Blizzard-style gesture with his
hands. "Different value systems, you know. Hard for us outsiders to
comprehend."
"Yes," Janet said in a voice almost too low for Chee to hear. "Hard to
comprehend."
"Janet," Chee said. He reached his hand toward her. "There's something I'd
like to explain."
She put down her cup and sat back, not looking at him.
"Well, now," Blizzard said, hastily. "I've got work to do." He picked up the
ticket. "You get the tip," he said to Chee. "See you later, Janet." And he was
gone.
"Me too," Janet said. "I've got to go."
"Where?" Chee said.
"First to Crownpoint. The federals are releasing Ahkeah and I have to do the
paperwork."
"I'm going that direction," Chee said. "Could I give you a ride?"
"I have to go on from there up to Aztec. I have some business at the San Juan
County courthouse."
"That's right on my way," Chee said. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]