Chee had wondered about it and concluded that the ratchet would allow a rope to slip in one direction and not the other. Thus, it must be used to allow a climber to pull himself up a cliff. Demott obviously knew what it was for. He was examining the place where the ratchet had been welded to the steel.
“I remember I couldn’t fix it. Hal and you took it into Mancos and had Gus weld it,” Demott said to Elisa. “It sure looks like the same one.”
“I guess we can close this up then,” Chee said. “I don’t see any reason for you going down to Shiprock to look at the bones. Unless you want to.”
Demott was inspecting one of the climbing shoes. “The soles must be all the same,” he said. “At least all I ever saw was just soft, smooth rubber like this. And his were white. And he had little feet, too.” He glanced at Elisa. “How about the clothing? That look like Hal’s?”
“The jacket, yes,” she said. “I think that’s Hal’s jacket.”
Something in her tone caused Chee to glance back at her. She held her lips pressed together, face tense, determined somehow not to cry. Her brother didn’t see that. He was studying the artifacts on the table.
“It’s pretty tore up,” Demott said, poking the clothing with a finger. “You think coyotes? But from what the paper said, it would be too high for them.”
“Way too high,” Chee said.
“Birds, then,” Demott said. “Ravens. Vultures and—” He cut that off, with a repentant glance at Elisa.
Chee picked up the evidence valise and stuffed the tattered clothing into it, getting it out of Elisa’s sight.
“I think I should go to Shiprock,” Elisa said. She looked away from Chee and out the window. “To take care of things. Hal would have wanted to be cremated, I think. And his ashes scattered in the San Juan Mountains.”
“Yeah,” Demott said. “Over in the La Plata range. On Mount Hesperus. That was his very favorite.”
“We call it Dibe Nitsaa,” Chee said. He thought of a dead man’s ashes drifting down on serene slopes that the spirit called First Man had built to protect the Navajos from evil. First Man had decorated the mountain with jet-black jewelry to fend off all bad things.
But what could protect it from the invincible ignorance of this white culture? These were good, kind people, he thought, who wouldn’t knowingly use corpse powder, the Navajo symbol for the ultimate evil, to desecrate a holy place. But then climbing Ship Rock to prove that man was the dominating master of the universe was also a desecration.
“It’s our Sacred Mountain of the North,” Chee said. “Was that what Mr. Breedlove was trying to do? Put his feet on top of all our sacred places?” Having said it, Chee instantly regretted it. This was not the time or place to show his resentment.
He glanced at Demott, who was looking at him, surprised. But Elisa Breedlove was still staring out the window.
“Hal wasn’t like that,” she said. “He was just trying to find some happiness,” she said. “Nobody had ever taught him anything about sacred things. The only god the Breedloves ever worshiped was cast out of gold.”
“I don’t think Hal knew anything about your mythology,” Demott agreed. “It’s just that Hesperus is over thirteen thousand feet and an easy climb. I like them high and easy and I guess Hal did, too.” Chee considered that. “Why Ship Rock, then? I know it’s killed some people. I’ve heard it’s one of the hardest climbs.”
“Yeah,” Demott said. “Why Ship Rock? And why by himself? And if he wasn’t by himself, how come his friends just left him there? Didn’t even report it.”
Chee didn’t comment on that. Elisa was still staring blindly out the window.
“How high did he get?” Demott asked.
Chee shrugged. “Close to the top, I think. I think the rescue party said the skeleton was just a couple hundred feet down from the crest.”
“I knew he was good, but if he got that high all by himself he was even better than I thought,” Demott said. “He’d gotten past the 15 of 102
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hardest parts.”
“He’d always wanted to climb Ship Rock,” Elisa said. “Remember?”
“I guess so,” Demott said thoughtfully. “I remember him talking about climbing El Diente and Lizard’s Head. I thought they were next on his agenda.” He turned to Chee, frowning. “Have you fellows looked into who else he might have climbed with? I have trouble believing he did that alone. I guess he could have and he was reckless enough to try it. But it damn sure wouldn’t be easy.
Not getting that high.”
“It’s not a criminal case,” Chee said. “We’re just trying to close up an old missing person file.”
“But who the hell would go off and leave a fallen man like that? Not even report so the rescue people could go get him? You think they was afraid you Navajos would arrest ’em for trespassing?” He shook his head. “Or the way things are now, maybe they thought they’d get sued.” He laughed, put on his hat. “But I got to get moving. Good to meet you, Mr. Chee,” he said, and was gone.
“I’ve got to be going, too,” Chee said. He dumped the rest of the equipment in the valise.
She walked with him to the door, opened it for him. He pulled at the valise zipper, then stopped. He should really leave this stuff with her. She was the widow. It was her property.
“Mr. Chee,” she said. “The skeleton. Were the bones all broken up?”
“No,” Chee said. “Nothing broken. And all the joints were still articulated.” From Elisa’s expression he first thought she didn’t understand that anthropology jargon. “I mean, the skeleton was all together in one piece. And nothing was broken.”
“Nothing was broken?” she repeated. “Nothing.” And then he realized the expression reflected disbelief. And shock.
Why shock? Had Mrs. Breedlove expected her husband’s body to be broken apart? Why would she? If he asked her why, she’d say it must have been a long fall.
He zipped the valise closed. He’d keep these artifacts from the Fallen Man, at least for a while.
6
HE MET JANET AT THE CARRIAGE INN
in Farmington, halfway between his trailer at Shiprock and the San Juan County courthouse at Aztec where she had been defending a Checkerboard Reservation Navajo on a grand theft charge. He arrived late—but not very late—and her kidding about his watch being on Navajo time lacked its usual vigor. She looked absolutely used up, he thought. Beautiful but tired, and maybe the fatigue explained the diminution of the usual spark, of the delight he usually sensed in her when she first saw him. Or maybe it was because he was weary himself. Anyway, just being with her, seeing her across the table, cheered him. He took her hand.
“Janet, you work too hard,” Chee said. “You should marry me and let me take you away from all this.”
“I intend to marry you,” she said, rewarding him with a weary smile. “You keep forgetting that. But all you do is keep making more work for me. Arresting these poor innocent people.”
“That sounds to me like you won today,” Chee said. “Charmed the jury again?”
“It didn’t take any charm. This time it wouldn’t have been reasonable to have even a reasonable doubt. His brother-in-law did it and the state cops totally screwed up the investigation.”
“Do you have to go right back to Window Rock tomorrow? Why not take a day oft? Tell ’em you are doing the post-trial paperwork. Maybe preparing a false arrest suit or something.”
“Ah, Jim,” she said. “I have to drive down there tonight.”
“Tonight! That’s crazy. That’s more than two hours on a dangerous road,” he said. “You’re tired. Get some sleep. What’s the hurry?”
She looked apologetic. Shrugged. “No choice, Jim. I’d love to stay over. Can’t do it. Duty calls.”
“Ah, come on,” Chee said. “Duty can wait.”