ah Wash for Shewnack, to come by and deliver their half of the loot. They did exactly what he’d told them to do.
The story he told them to give to the police was that they hadn’t actually seen the robbery. They were to say they saw Shewnack drive away, suspected something bad had happened, tried to follow him in Delonie’s pickup, but had lost him. They were to wait by the road about three hours, then return to the store and report what hap-THE SHAPE SHIFTER
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pened to the police who, Shewnack explained to them, would surely be there by then.
“Of course it didn’t work that way,” Garcia said.
“Here’s the way it actually went. Shewnack drove up to Handy’s place in his pickup truck, walked in, pointed his pistol at Mr. Handy, and demanded all the cash. Handy started to argue. Shewnack shot him three times. Then Mrs. Handy came running in to see who was shooting, and Shewnack shot her twice. Ellie told me that she had started screaming then because Shewnack had promised her nobody would get hurt. So he hustled her into the back room, filled the sacks Ellie had kept there for him with money from the safe. The safe was standing open because Ellie had signaled him to come in just when Handy was starting his daily job of adding the day’s revenue to the stash.”
“Signaled?” Leaphorn said. “How?”
Garcia laughed. “Nothing very high tech. She went to the window and pulled down the blind. Just as Shewnack had instructed her. She said the plan was for Shewnack to tie up her and Handy, have Benny and Tomas take off pretending to chase him, then wait for him at a pickup place in the Bis-E ah Wash. He’d come there and they’d divide up the loot. He told her he’d have a bottle of chloroform to put Handy to sleep and he’d pretend to do the same with her. She was supposed to wait ten minutes after hearing him drive off and then reconnect the telephone and call the law.”
Garcia shook his head, chuckled.
“She told the highway patrol Shewnack had told her to sound totally hysterical. He even had her practice screaming and sobbing into the telephone.” 58
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“Sounds like he would have made a pretty efficient professional criminal,” Leaphorn said. “Guess he did.
Didn’t the federals have him as a top suspect in a couple of other robberies after that?”
“Yeah,” Garcia agreed. “A whole bunch of them. Jobs with a sort of similar MO. But maybe some other bad guys had heard about it and were copying the system. Anyway, Ellie said that practicing hysteria wasn’t necessary. Once she saw Shewnack shooting Handy, and then killing Mrs.
Handy when the old lady came rushing in, the hysteria was genuine. Came naturally.”
Leaphorn found himself feeling sympathy for Ellie.
Before the long evening was over, Garcia continued, police had received another excited call, telling them that two suspicious-looking young men, one armed with a pistol, were parked down in Bis-E ah Wash. The caller said the two ran up to his truck when he drove down the track there, looked at him, and then waved him on. Who was he? Well, the call was from an old-fashioned short-wave radio; the caller said he was Horse Hauler Mike, and a word or two later the radio shorted out—as was usual those days. When the state police showed up at Tomas Delonie’s pickup in the wash, Delonie said no such truck driver, or anyone else, had come by since they got there. They insisted they knew nothing of the robbery, but since Shewnack had handed them one of the sacks Ellie had left with a little bit of the loot in it, that didn’t seem credible to the policemen.
“I guess that does sort of establish a new level in ratting out your partners,” Leaphorn said. “I mean, setting it up before the crime happens so you don’t have to split the loot and arranging for the police to get them quick so THE SHAPE SHIFTER
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they’re not chasing you. I’d say any of those three would have motive for burning Shewnack.”
Garcia shook his head. “Of course only Ellie was free when Shewnack was cremated, but maybe the others could have arranged something. Communicated with friends on the outside. But how would they have known where to find Shewnack? You have any ideas to offer on that?”
“Not offhand,” Leaphorn said. “I’d have to know their families. And their friends. But it sounds pretty near impossible to me.”
“Yeah,” Garcia said. “I did a little casual asking around and got nothing. Well, anyway they’re all out now. Like I said, Ellie got part of her five-year sentence whacked off for good behavior. She was living at Gallup last I heard. Delonie got a twenty-five-year rap, and Begay’s was a lot shorter. But I’ve heard that Begay’s dead.
When he got out, he got married and he and his wife lived up near Teec Nos Pos. Worked as a sheep shearer, handy man, so forth. Supposed to have learned a lot about working with tools and fixing things in the penitentiary, and for a while he worked for a sporting goods store in Farmington. Mostly from what I heard repairing outboard motors, sporting equipment, things like that. I remember the first time I saw him after he was paroled he was helping out at one of those booths at the Four Corners Monument parking place. Very cool about it. Said he’d had an enemy way cure. Got himself restored to harmony. He sounded like he was very much occupied with forgetting his old mistakes. And all those bad years.”
“You say Begay’s dead now. How’d that happen?”
“Shot himself,” Garcia said.
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TONY HILLERMAN
“You mean suicide?”
“No. Not Benny. I guess he wasn’t as good at fixing as he thought he was. He had taken some stuff home from the Fish and Hunt Shop over the weekend to repair it. Had himself a workbench in his garage, and when his wife got home from whatever she was doing, he was there on the floor. And one of those old German World War II pistols on the floor beside him. A Walther. The one they called the P-38. The magazine was out of it on the table, but the empty shell casing was still in the chamber.” Garcia looked at Leaphorn, shrugged.
“That’s how it can happen,” Leaphorn said. “Working with an unfamiliar weapon. You think you unloaded it and you didn’t. No sign of foul play?”
“That was over here in New Mexico,” Garcia said.
“Not my case, but I doubt it. Probably handled by the San Juan County sheriff. Wouldn’t be any reason to be suspicious. Who’d want to kill Benny Begay?”
“Good question,” Leaphorn said. He found himself trying to visualize how Begay, a gunsmith then by practice, had managed to point that pistol at his head and pull the trigger. He’d extracted the magazine. What was he doing. Peering into the pistol barrel. That would make no sense.
Garcia studied Leaphorn. “You know, you Navajos have a lot of damn fine ideas in your culture.”
“Yes,” Leaphorn said. “And we have a lot of trouble these days sticking to them. Begay managed it, I guess.
But how about Delonie. Was he that forgiving?” Garcia laughed “Delonie’s no Navajo. I think he is part Pottawatomie, or maybe it’s Seminole. He wasn’t quite like Ellie and Begay, who were clean as a whistle.
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Delonie had already accumulated himself a little rap sheet. He’d done a little time in the Oklahoma reforma-tory as a juvenile, and then got himself arrested as an adult for stealing cars out of parking lots. The cops who worked Handy’s case from the beginning told me Delonie might have been the reason it happened.” Leaphorn considered that, raised his eyebrows, provoking Garcia to explain what he meant.
“You know how it sometimes works. A professional robbery type looking for a way to make some money asks around among the proper level of citizens for some locals who might have spotted a likely job, and so forth.
He hears about Delonie. Checks with him. Delonie says Handy’s looks ripe for a robbery. Shewnack offers to buy in. Something like that. You know what I mean?”