thillerman.theblessingway-第35节

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ost　two　months　ago。　A　fingerprint　check　had　been　enlightening。　Poher　was　relatively　unknown。　One　arrest　on　suspicion　of　conspiracy　to　rob　a　bank；　some　East　Coast　Mafia　associations；　but　no　convictions。　Jackson　was　another　story。　He　was　also　known　as　Amos　Raven；　and　Big　Raven　and　George　Thomas；　with　a　long　and　violent　juvenile　record　dating　back　into　the　late　thirties　in　Los　Angeles；　and　one　adult　conviction　for　armed　robbery；　and　a　half…dozen　arrests　for　questioning　in　an　assortment　of　crimes　of　violence…all　Mafia…connected。
　〃A　Relocation　Indian。　Jackson　seems　to　have　been　born　in　Los　Angeles。〃　Leaphorn　laughed。　〃California　Navajo。　That's　what　had　me　hung　up。　I　was　expecting　him　to　act　like　The　People　and　all　he　knew　about　The　People　he　must　have　got　out　of　a　book。〃
　〃Case　Studies　in　Navajo　Ethnic　Aberrations；　for　one；〃　McKee　said；　〃by　John　Greersen。〃
　〃Anyway；〃　Leaphorn　continued；　〃Jackson　had　apparently　been　picked　for　this　assignment　simply　because　he　was　a　Navajo　and　looked　like　one。　His　job　must　have　been　to　help　Hall　set　up　his　equipment　and　make　sure　that　nobody　knew　what　was　going　on。　It　wouldn't　have　seemed　difficult；　for　the　very　reason　the　military　chose　this　route　for　its　overland　missile。　The　country　was　almost　pletely　deserted。　Hall　set　up　in　Many　Ruins　Canyon　plex；　which　The　People　avoid　because　of　the　Anasazi　ghosts；　and　Jackson　scared　the　few　stragglers　out　by　pretending　to　be　a　witch。〃
　〃Except　Horseman；〃　McKee　said。
　〃Yeah。　Except　Horseman。〃　Leaphorn's　voice　was　flat。
　〃It　wasn't　your　fault；〃　McKee　said。
　〃Remember　what　I　said　to　Jackson　at　the　trading　post？　I　said　if　Horseman　don't　e　out　we'll　e　in　looking　for　him。　So　Jackson　brought　him　out　for　us　and　laid　him　out　where　we　couldn't　miss　him。〃
　〃Use　your　head；　Joe。　There　was　no　way　you　could　have　stopped　it　from　happening。〃
　〃I　was　slow　figuring　it　out；〃　Leaphorn　said。　〃I　smelled　something　about　Jackson。　But　I　figured　him　to　act　like　a　Navajo　and　he　was　acting　like　a　white　man。〃
　〃Thanks　a　lot；〃　McKee　said。
　〃If　he　was　a　Navajo；　no　matter　what　he　was　doing　in　there；　killing　Horseman　would　have　screwed　it　up　for　him。　He　would　have　gone　off　somewhere　and　had　a　sweat　bath；　and　then　he　would　have　found　himself　a　Singer　and　got　himself　cured　and　forgot　about　it。〃
　Leaphorn　told　McKee　about　the　Enemy　Way　and　about　finding　the　place　where　Jackson　had　built　the　road　up　Ceniza　Mesa。
　〃He　had　put　one　of　the　radar　sets　up　there　and　then　he　was　improving　his　road　so　he　could　get　it　down　fast；　without　using　the　winch。　When　he　missed　his　hat；　he　knew　someone　had　seen　him；　so　he　moved　the　radar　back　over　to　the　plateau。　I　didn't　know　about　the　radar　but　it　was　beginning　to　be　clear　by　then　that　there　had　to　be　a　lot　of　money　involved　somewhere。　You　put　it　together…a　lot。　of　money　and　a　killing。　It's　not　natural；　and　it's　not　Navajo。〃
　〃All　right；〃　McKee　said。　〃I'll　buy　that。　But　how　did　Hall　get　into　it？〃
　〃I　don't　know；〃　Leaphorn　said。　〃I　hear　the　federals　are　looking　into　a　little　West　Coast　electronics　pany　with　Mafia　ownership。　I　think　Hall　did　some　work　for　them　before…something　legitimate。〃　He　looked　at　McKee　pensively。　〃Didn't　that　business　about　Jackson　wanting　you　to　write　the　letter　tell　you　something？〃
　〃It　told　me　he　didn't　want　anybody　ing　in　there　looking　for　us；〃　McKee　said。　〃What　else？〃
　〃Think　about　it；〃　Leaphorn　said。　〃If　you　have　a　bunch　of　puter　tapes　giving　you　the　exact　performance　of　the　other　guy's　ballistic　missile　system；　it's　worth　a　bunch　of　money。　But　it's　worth　a　lot　more　if　the　other　side　doesn't　suspect　you've　got　it。　Right？〃
　〃Because　if　he　suspects　he　changes　the　system；〃　McKee　said。　〃Eddie　said　something　about　that。　About　the　letter　being　worth　a　lot　of　money。〃
　A　nurse　came　in　then；　a　Navajo　girl；　in　the　uniform　of　the　Indian　Service　Hospital。　She　scolded　Leaphorn　for　staying　too　long；　took　McKee's　temperature　and　gave　him　a　capsule　and　a　drink　of　water。
　When　McKee　awoke　again；　there　was　a　tray　beside　his　bed　with　a　covered　dish　of　food　on　it；　and　beside　the　dish　was　an　envelope。
　He　turned　the　envelope　in　his　good　hand；　aware　before　he　opened　it　of　the　familiar　feeling　of　his　mon　sense　struggling　with　his　perennial　incurable　optimism。　The　note　inside　was　from　Ellen　Leon。　Tomorrow；　it　began；　the　doctor　would　let　her　e　to　visit　him。　It　was　not　just　fourteen　blunt　words　in　blue　ink　on　blue　paper。　It　was　a　long　letter。



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