Hillerman, the FBI agent, stared around him searching for signs of a homeplace.
?These big old trees,? Riker said, ?crowding all together in a half circle? That?s where the house stood, in their shade. And the brushy land that drops on down? That would have been cleared, that?s the garden spot.? The other two looked at him, questioning, but Riker knew these woods. And for the past hundred yards they?d been walking over old, worn terraces.
?There would have been crops here, too,? Riker said, ?corn, beans, more tomatoes, collards. Off to your right,? he said, pointing, ?those old pear trees gone wild? Someone planted those.? He paused beside a low-branched sourwood, took a small folding saw from his pack, and cut three long straight branches so they could feel ahead through the scrub and grass.
?The well won?t likely be near the bigger trees,? Riker said, ?where the roots would grow in.? They moved on slowly, poking ahead, doubling back and forth watching the ground. Near the old homeplace, Hillerman shouted.
Riker and Clark joined him. Kneeling, Riker pulled aside a tangle of honeysuckle, revealing the remains of a crumbled stone curb. Carefully they pulled out long, tangled vines, clearing the stone circle beneath. It was some five feet across, the hole in the center yawning black and deep.
The sides of the well were lined with stone, too, the carefully laid rocks gray with moss where Riker shone the beam of his torch down inside. Tying a rope around his waist, handing the ends to Clark and Hillerman, he leaned down in until his light picked out the far, muddy bottom. He moved the beam slowly, looking.
?It?s there,? Riker said. ?The ammo box.?
Hillerman fished a coiled rope from his backpack, a treble hook tied at one end, and handed it to Clark. Kneeling beside Riker, the younger man let the coil play out easy, down and down, the swinging steel claw catching torchlight as it bounced against the well?s stone and earth sides. When it reached bottom he let it settle, then eased it toward the dark metal box lying deep in the mud against the earthen wall.
It took seven passes, Clark gently finessing the hook, before he snagged one of the two handles. Slowly he pulled the box up, afraid at every move that he?d lose it or it would pop open and spill its contents. Keeping it clear of the edges, he at last lifted the dirt-encrusted ammo box above the well and out over solid ground.
Hillerman had to use the beer opener on his pocketknife to pry up the two heavy, rusty latches. When he had pulled the lid open the three men, kneeling around the box, looked at each other grinning.
Within lay the bundles of greenbacks, moldy smelling, each secured with a brown paper collar. They touched nothing. Tucked in beside the money was a tightly rolled canvas bag and a dark blue stocking cap. Hillerman picked this up carefully with the point of his knife, held it high, revealing its length, which would easily cover a man?s face. Two ragged eyeholes had been cut in one side. Underneath, where he?d removed the cap and bag, lay a .38-caliber revolver.
Pulling on clean cotton gloves, Hillerman dropped the cap, bank bag, and revolver into clean paper bags. Carefully he checked the serial numbers on several of the bills, lifting their edges with the point of his knife.?Now,? the overweight agent said, grinning, ?let?s see what the lab makes of this.?
?The lab and the U.S. attorney,? said Riker.
Latching the lid, they placed the box in a larger evidence bag. The agents fitted the bags into their backpacks and, all three smiling, they headed back down the mountain. Ever since Quaker Lowe had filled them in fully on Falon?s long record, on Blake?s murder trial, and on comments made by prison authorities, and knowing Lowe?s honest reputation as a straight shooter, they wanted to see Falon fry. Descending the ridge on the trail they?d partially cleared, Riker said, ?That old parolee, the old train robber? Whatever his reasons, if it was Fontana who made Falon talk, I?d say he?s earned the court?s blessing.?
?And maybe the Lord?s blessing,? said Hillerman, smiling.
40
THE GHOST CAT, lingering unseen on Morgan?s bed, was well aware of the search in Georgia and of the morning?s find in the old well. He was as pleased as the three lawmen as they moved down the wooded hill packing out the bank money. The cat, lying close to Morgan listening to Lee?s verbal marathon, reached out a soft paw whenever Lee started to drift off. He alerted Lee more sharply to any slightest movement as their patient began slowly to return to the living, his spirit reaching up again from the darkness beyond all dark. The yellow cat, lying close to Morgan, knew that Lee?s and Morgan?s lives had begun to brighten into theshape of hope.
The two men might not yet sense it, but from the time they scaled the wall, all across country and then into T.I., even to Morgan?s present battle, the cat knew that hope touched them. He started suddenly, hissing, when an orderly bolted into the room.
The man reached for Lee, his meaty hand on Lee?s shoulder. ?Phone call, Fontana. It?s your lawyer, he said it was urgent.?
Rising, Lee headed for the door not knowing whether the man meant Quaker Lowe in Georgia or Reginald Storm, and not wanting to stop and ask. He followed the orderly to an empty office, the young man staying behind Lee, where he was in control. Stepping into the small space, Lee picked up the receiver that lay on the blotter next to the tall black phone.
?Sorry to wake you,? Storm said, ?I know it?s early. Quaker just called. They?ve got the bank money. A sheriff?s deputy went up Turkey Mountain Ridge this morning with two agents. They found the old homeplace, the old dry well, the ammo box there at the bottom. The money, the canvas bags. They found the gun, Lee.?
Lee stood grinning, clutching the receiver tight, as if it and Storm?s words might vanish.
?The bank has records of some of the packs of bills,? Storm said. ?The bureau has lifted a number of Falon?s prints, that match those from the L.A. files. And ballistics is working on the gun. They even found the mask he wore, that wool cap with the eyeholes.?
?I can?t believe it, I can?t believe our good luck.?
Storm laughed.?We?re on our way, Lee. We have something to work on, you?re on your way to court.?
?If anything can rouse Morgan,? Lee said, sitting down at the desk to steady himself, ?this will wake him.?
?This,? Storm said, ?and the sight of Becky and Sammie, in the morning. They?re flying out today, the first flight they could get. Lowe said Becky?s been really down, worrying about Morgan. Said with this news, she?s not so furious anymore, at the two of you.?
That made Lee smile wryly, almost tenderly.
?They have a number of layovers, they?ll be in around midnight. I?ll pick them up, get them settled in a motel over there near the prison. Becky?s aunt paid for the flight,? Storm said. ?I guess Becky argued, but she didn?t have much choice.? There was a smile in Storm?s voice. ?Lowe saysher aunt Anne?s a pretty stubborn woman.?
That made Lee smile. Storm said,?I?ll be over later this morning to talk with Iverson, make sure Falon?s .†.†. satisfactorily detained,? he said with amusement. ?How?s Morgan doing??
?Some better,? Lee said. ?He wakes a little sometimes, and his sleep seems more normal. Maybe this news will bring him around. The wound?s beginning to heal, the swelling?s going down, they can?t detect any inner bleeding. I want to thank you,? Lee said, ?for getting Iverson to let me stay with him.?
?That was Dr. McClure?s doing. Maybe by the time we get this on the docket Morgan will be raring to get into the courtroom. I just hope we can transfer jurisdiction. Lowe?s working with the U.S. attorneys on that. If Falon?s arraigned and tried out here, and if he doesn?t ask for a jury, that?s our best bet. Our L.A. judges are a pretty good bunch.?
Returning to Morgan?s room Lee stood looking down at him; laying his hand on Morgan?s arm, he told Morgan the news, that the law in Georgia had found the money and gun, told him everything Storm had said. He thought a little color came into Morgan?s face, a brief spark of awareness. As Lee talked, the yellow cat suddenly appeared beside Morgan, looking up at Lee, flicking his tail, twitching his whiskers, gazing deep into Lee?s eyes. They looked at each other for a long time, the cat filled with triumph and goodness; but when Lee reached to touch him he vanished again. Disappeared flashing Lee a cattishsmile, was gone as suddenly as he?d appeared.