"Who did?"
"I don't know," Dashee said. "But I grew up with Robert Jano. I know you hear this all the time, but—" He threw up his hands.
"I know people myself who I just can't believe would ever kill anyone—no matter what. But sometimes something snaps, and they do it. Temporary insanity."
'You'd have to know him. If you did, you'd never believe it. He was always gentle, even when we were kids trying to be tough. Robert never seemed to really lose his temper. He liked everybody. Even the bastards."
Leaphorn could see Dashee was hating this. He'd pushed his uniform cap back on his head. His face was flushed. His forehead was beaded with perspiration.
"I'm retired, you know," Leaphorn said. "So all I get is the secondhand gossip. But what I hear is that Chee caught the man red-handed. Jano was supposed to be leaning over Kinsman, blood all over him. Some of the blood was Jano's. Some of the blood was Kinsman's. Was that about it?"
Dashee sighed, rubbed his hand across his face. "That's the way it must have looked to Jim."
"You talked to Jim?"
Dashee shook his head. "That's the advice I wanted. How do I go about that? You know how he is. Kinsman was one of his people. Somebody kills him. He must feel pretty strong about that. And I'm a cop, too. It's not my case. And being a Hopi. The kind of anger that's grown up between us and you Navajos." He threw up his hands again. "It's such a damned complicated situation. I want him to know it's not just sentimental bullshit. How can I approach him?"
"Yeah," Leaphorn said, thinking that everything Dashee had said did indeed sound like sentimental bullshit. "I understand your problem."
The coffee arrived, reminding Leaphorn of Louisa waiting outside. But she had the thermos they'd brought and she would understand. Just as Emma always understood. He sipped the coffee without noticing anything, except that it was hot.
"Did they let you talk to Jano?"
Dashee nodded. "How'd you manage that?"
"I know his lawyer," Dashee said. "Janet Pete."
Leaphorn grunted, shook his head. "I was afraid of that," he said. "I saw her at the hospital the day Kinsman died. The prosecution bunch was gathering and she showed up, too. I'd heard she's been appointed as a federal defender."
"That's it," Dashee said. "She'll do a good job for him, but it sure as hell won't make dealing with Jim any easier."
"They were about to get married once, I think," Leaphorn said. "And then she went back to Washington. Is that on again?"
"I hope not," Dashee said. "She's a city gal. Jim's always going to be a sheep-camp Navajo. But whatever, it's going to make him touchy as hell, being on opposite sides of this. He'll be hard to deal with."
"But Chee was always reasonable," Leaphorn said. "If it was me, I'd just go and lay it out for him. Just make the best case you can."
"You think it will do any good?"
"I doubt it," Leaphorn said. "Not unless you give him some sort of evidence. How could it? If what I hear at
Window Rock is right, Jano had a motive. Revenge as well as avoiding arrest. Kinsman had already nailed him before for poaching an eagle. He got off light then, but this would be a second offense. More important, I understand there was no other possible suspect. Besides, even you persuade Chee he's wrong, what can he do about it now?" Dashee hadn't touched his coffee. He leaned across the table. "Find the person who actually killed Kinsman," Dashee said. "I want to ask him to do that. Or help me do it."
"But as I understand the situation, only Jano and Kinsman were there, until Chee came along answering Kinsman's call for some backup."
"There was a woman up there," Dashee said. "A woman named Catherine Pollard. Maybe other people."
Leaphorn, caught in the process of raising his cup for another sip, said, "Ah," and put down the cup. He stared at Dashee for a moment. "How do you know that?"
"I've been asking around," Dashee said, and produced a bitter laugh. "Something Jim should be doing." He shook his head. "He's a good man and a good cop. I'm asking you how I can I get him moving. If he doesn't, I think Jano could get the death penalty. And one day Jim's going to know they gassed the wrong man. And then you might as well kill him, too. Chee would never get over that."
"I know something about Catherine Pollard," Leaphorn said.
"I know," Dashee said. "I heard."
"If she was there—and I understand that's where she was supposed to be going that day—how could she fit into this? Except, of course, as a potential witness."
"I'd like to give Jim another theory of the crime, Dashee said. "Ask him to look at it for a while as a substitute for Jano kills Kinsman to avoid arrest.' It goes like this: Pollard goes up to Yells Back Butte to do her thing. Kinsman is up there looking for Jano, or maybe he's looking for Pollard. One way, he runs across her. The other way, he finds her. Just a couple of nights earlier, Kinsman was in a bistro off the interstate east of Flag, and he saw Pollard and tried to take her away from the guy she was with. A fight started. An Arizona highway patrolman broke it up."
Leaphorn turned the cup in his hand, considering this. No reason to ask Dashee how he knew this. Cop gossip travels fast.
Dashee was watching him, looking anxious. "What do you think?" he said. "Kinsman has a reputation as a woman-chaser. He's attracted and now he's angry, too. Or maybe he thinks she'll file a complaint and get him suspended." He shrugged. "They struggle. She whacks him on the head with a rock. Then she hears Jano coming and flees the scene. Does that sound plausible?"
"A lot would depend on whether you have a witness who would testify they saw her there. Do you? I mean, beyond that being where she told her boss she'd be working that day?"
"I got it from Old Lady Notah. She keeps a bunch of goats up there. She remembers seeing a Jeep driving up that dirt road past the butte about daylight that morning. I understand Pollard was driving a Jeep." Dashee looked slightly abashed. "Just circumstantial evidence. She couldn't identify the driver. Not even the gender."
"Still, it was probably Pollard," Leaphorn said. "And I understand the Jeep is still missing. And so is Pollard."
"Right again."
"And you've been offering a thousand-dollar reward for anyone who can find it."
"True," Leaphorn said. "But if Pollard did it, and Pollard was fleeing the scene, why didn't Chee see her? Remember, he got there just a few minutes after it happened. Kinsman's blood was still fresh. There's just that one narrow dirt road into there, and Chee was driving up it. Why didn't he—"
Dashee held up his hand. "I don't know, and neither do you. But don't you think it could have happened?" Leaphorn nodded. "Possibly."
"I don't want to get out of line with this, or sound offensive, but let me add something else to my theory of the crime. Let's say that Pollard got out of there, got to a telephone, called somebody and told them her troubles and asked for help. Let's say whoever it was told her where to hide and they'd cover her trail for her."
Leaphorn asked; "Like who and how?" But he knew the answer.
"Who? I'd say somebody in her family. Probably her daddy, I'd say. How? By giving the impression that she's been abducted. Been murdered."
"And they do that by hiring a retired policeman to go looking for her," Leaphorn said.
"Somebody respected by all the cops," Dashee said.
Chapter Twelve
THE ROCK UPON WHICH CHEE had so carelessly put his weight tumbled down the slope, bounced into space, struck an obtruding ledge, touched off a clattering avalanche of stone and dirt and disappeared amid the weeds far below. Chee shifted his body carefully to his right, exhaled a huge breath and stood for a moment, leaning against the cliff and letting his heartbeat slow a little. He was just below the tabletop of Yells Back Butte, high on the saddle that connected it with Black Mesa. It wasn't a difficult climb for a young man in Chee's excellent physical shape, and not particularly dangerous if one kept focused on what he was doing. Chee hadn't. He'd been thinking of Janet Pete, facing the fact that he was wasting his day off just because she'd implied he hadn't done a proper job of checking the Kinsman crime scene.