“I never seen no map of Florence anyplace.”
“There you go,” Sanada said. “Fuckin’ A well told.”
The way they both talked they hadn’t been out of the Army very long. Watchman got his handkerchief out and inspected it for cleanliness. It wasn’t too bad. He took it across to Nelson Oto. “Here, clean your face off.”
14.
Under portable searchlights it was nearly midnight by the time the Apache County officials and technicians had finished in the canyon. They cordoned off the wreck and put two deputies on guard; Watchman heard the Undersheriff promise to relieve them by eight in the morning.
There was a rustic unhurried manner to the operations of the Sheriff’s deputies, the County Coroner and Attorney’s men, the ambulance crew and the wrecker-crane operators; but they were professionals and did their jobs carefully. Fingerprint men dusted every inch of the wreck and afterward the entire steering assembly was dismantled and wrapped in manila paper and carried uphill through the rocks to the county station wagon.
When the gathering broke up, Tom Victorio said, “I’m afraid I still need a ride. You want me to hitch a lift with one of those guys?”
“You can ride with me.” Watchman eased the Volvo along between the ranks of parked official vehicles until he cleared the tight bend. Light from the quarter-moon glimmered on the rocks. Watchman said, “You handled those two punks like a pro.”
“I’m an ambulance-chaser at heart. I can use a few clients.”
“Those two haven’t got a dime to rub together. You won’t get rich on the fee.”
“But the word will get around. I stood up for Nels and Danny. Next time some Apache wants himself a lawyer in a hurry maybe he’ll think about calling Tom Victorio instead of Legal Aid.”
The road ran close under the lee of the foothills and the Volvo’s tires slithered on the corners. Victorio added, “Besides I don’t think those two had anything to do with it. Nels’ own brother?”
“He only wanted to take them in for questioning.”
“Then let him get a warrant.”
They emerged from the notch in the hills and Watchman picked up a few late-burning lights of Whiteriver down the valley. “Where can I drop you?”
“My car’s still in town.”
“You live around here?”
“Live with my folks, fifteen miles down toward Cibecue.”
“Where does Kendrick hang his hat?”
“He keeps an apartment in Showlow. He doesn’t live around here full time—matter of fact he’s a partner in a firm in Phoenix. They all specialize in Indian work.”
“But Kendrick’s been concentrating mostly on this area for several years, hasn’t he?”
“Yeah. I imagine if we ever get this water-rights mess straightened out he’ll move on to some other tribe.”
“Leaving you to pick up the baton here.”
“I’m kind of hoping it’ll turn out that way.” Victorio cleared his throat. “Jimmy Oto was nobody’s favorite character but I’d dearly love to find out who killed him. I’d like to find out quick, before everybody in the tribe starts suspecting his neighbor. We’ve never had a sneak murderer in this tribe that I know of and that’s one ancient tradition I’d just as soon keep. I want to find out who did it and I want it not to be an Apache.”
“You could help find out the answer.”
“How?”
Watchman braked at the fork and turned onto the macadam. The headlights swung across poor houses and a windmill tower. “Find out who Kendrick’s client is. The one who laid out the money for Maria.”
“Find out how?”
“You work in the same office. You’ve got keys.”
Victorio didn’t reply right away. Watchman steered into the lot between the trading post and the council house. A night-light burned in the store but the only car on the lot was Victorio’s beetle.
Victorio’s face was tipped toward his knees. “You’re asking me to rifle Dwight’s files.”
“We need that name.”
“I’m no sneak thief. Anyhow if you obtain evidence unlawfully you can’t use it.”
“You can’t use it in court. I don’t give a damn about court. I’m trying to find Joe before we start finding more corpses.”
“I still don’t understand what Jimmy Oto had to do with it.”
“He had a detail map of Florence in the truck.”
After a silence Victorio said, “Yeah, okay.”
“Of course it still could be that Joe killed him.”
“Why should he?”
“Maybe Oto knew where Joe was hiding out. Maybe Joe killed him to keep him quiet.”
“No. That wouldn’t be Joe’s style. Sawing through the steering gear? Never, man. Joe’d use his fists or maybe a gun. A gun’s farfetched enough. He’s not what you’d call a subtle thinker.”
“Then let’s find him before somebody outthinks him and Joe ends up out in the bushes with birds picking over him.”
Victorio bit a knuckle. “I don’t know. I just don’t operate that way. I’m getting the shakes just thinking about it. Suppose I get caught?”
“It’s your own office. You’re not doing anything illegal.”
“They’re not my files, they’re Dwight’s.”
“You’re splitting hairs. It’s the same law office.” Watchman got out of the car. “I’ve got a few calls to make. If you find something I’ll be over in the phone booth.”
15.
He dialed the local number first and Angelina answered on the first ring.
“Did I wake you up?”
“No, I was waiting for you. Where the hell are you?”
“Whiteriver,” he said. “Everything all right?”
“It’s boring out,” she said. “I’ve had more fun watching test patterns.”
“Well you’d better stay where you are for a while yet.”
“Why? Has something happened?”
“Jimmy Oto was killed.”
There was static on the line while she absorbed it. “It wasn’t Joe.…”
“I doubt Joe had anything to do with it. But it looks like Jimmy Oto died because he knew something.”
“Killed,” she said. “You mean really dead. It’s a little hard to believe, just like that.”
“Anything happened there?”
“Not much. I talked to Will Luxan on the phone. He said it would be all right, any time I wanted to come back to work.”
“Did he say anything about Joe?”
“He’s a cagey old man. He didn’t say anything you could pin down. But I do have a feeling. I think he knows something. Maybe he knows where Joe is.”
“Any special reason to think that?”
“I don’t know. You have to know Uncle Will. It’s nothing he said. Except maybe that he told me I shouldn’t worry my head too much about Joe. The way he said it, I took it to mean he knows Joe is all right. How would he know that if he hadn’t seen Joe or something?”
“You could have a point there.”
She said, “It’s awful late. Are you coming back tonight?”
“Maybe in a little while.”
“Be careful who shoots at you this time.” But her voice wasn’t as light as she meant it to be.
“Take care,” he said.
“Yes. You too.”
He held the cradle down with his finger and glanced across the way. Only the front of the council house was visible and he didn’t see Victorio anywhere. He rang Buck Stevens’ home number, collect.
Stevens’ groggy voice was half an octave lower than usual. “The hell time’s it?”
“About one. I couldn’t get to a phone before.”
“Uh.”
“Get a notebook.”
“Okay, wait a minute.… All right. Pencil and all. Speak.”
“We had a murder up here,” Watchman said and kept talking over Stevens’ interjections. “Young fellow name of Jimmy Oto.”
“Otto?”
“Oto. One tee. He’s got a surviving brother named Nelson Oto and there’s a friend name of Danny Sanada. Got the names?”
“Spell Sanada.”