“You turn around and walk out of here, I’m a free man.”
“It won’t happen that way. You know that.”
Joe closed his eyes. Watchman could see the eyeballs roll under the clenched lids. Joe’s jaw muscles worked and his fingertips quivered. Watchman said, “Right now it’s open season on you. You understand that?”
“Man these are my friends.”
“Somebody wants you dead. They killed Jimmy Oto.”
“What’s that got to do with me?”
“Jimmy broke you out of the joint. He knew too much. Now if Jimmy knew too much, where does that put you? You know a lot more than he did.”
“Well they got to find me first.”
“That’s not too hard,” Watchman said and saw Joe think on it and not like the conclusions: Watchman was a stranger up here and if he could find Joe then how much trouble would a local have? Watchman said, “How’d you manage to hide out in Florence and beat the roadblocks?” He said it conversationally.
“I don’t remember.”
“You’d make a hell of a witness.” Watchman smiled at him.
“Shit. I crawled up in the loft, one of them buildings up at the old, what used to be the Federal slam. Jimmy drove me there so there wasn’t no scent for the dogs to get at on the ground. He let me know when you pulled down the roadblocks. What difference it make now?”
“I was just curious. I’ve got to take you back, Joe, but as long as they want to kill you they can reach you whether you’re up here or down there. You can’t stop it, neither can I.”
“I can stop it. I can get to them first.”
“Joe you haven’t got that choice anymore.”
Joe eyed the two unloaded rifles and his face crumpled. He stared at the corner of the sand-painting. It was as if he was beyond caring any more.
Watchman turned toward Luxan. “Who witched him, Tio Will?”
Luxan’s square face was troubled. “I can’t say a name, you know. It would be up to Joe.”
“Tell him to tell me, then. Tell him it’s all right. Tell him I want to help him stay alive.”
Joe’s head lifted sharply. “Why the hell should we trust you?”
“Because I’m an outsider. I haven’t got an axe to grind. They’re all strangers to me.”
“Then what’s that make me, man? I never seen your face before. And you’re a cop. You said you was a cop.”
“Don’t blame the cops for your troubles, Joe. You confessed to that murder.”
“Yeah and I served my time like a good boy but it never stopped those motherin’ screws from pushing me around. You go in slam, you learn about cops.”
“I’m not a screw,” Watchman said, and went on even though it was a cheap shot: “I’m an Indian just like you.”
“Yutuhu,” Will Luxan murmured. It wasn’t contemptuous, merely informative; Joe nodded to show he understood.
“Navajo,” he said. “Man that don’t cut no ice. They had a Navajo down in slam tried to rape me once. I busted the son of a bitch all to hell.”
“Well that wasn’t me, was it.” Watchman tried another foothold: “The night Calisher was killed you were up in Cibecue. I know you didn’t kill him.”
“So you talked to Angelina.” Joe’s eyes shifted quickly to Luxan and his face changed. “What you done to my sister, man?”
“She’s all right.”
“You mean I don’t play ball with you, something happens to Angelina. It’s like that, hey?”
“No,” Watchman said, “it’s not like that. Nothing’s going to happen to her. I don’t play that way. I’m just trying to keep her out of the line of fire. The people that want you dead, maybe they want her dead too. You thought of that?”
It was clear by Joe’s expression that he hadn’t.
It had always been Watchman’s ace but he hadn’t wanted to play it.
Will Luxan said, “Maybe this time you tell him, Joe.”
Joe rubbed at the sweat on his face. “Man you know what you’re saying?”
Luxan said, “It is for you to say. But maybe this one could be right.”
Rufus Limita watched from the far side of the wickiup, his eyes dull and guarded. He didn’t stir at all. He was humming a little but so softly it was hardly audible; continuing the ritual song inside his throat.
Joe studied his hands. The muscles ridged at his throat, as if something physical were straining to burst out of him.
“Harlan Natagee,” he said, half choking it.
4.
“You figure Harlan witched you? Why?”
“It’s sort of been an enemy clan for a long time, you know? And everybody knows the son of a bitch is got all kinds of diyi kedn. He’s been witching people for years, everybody knows. He witched my woman and my kid. He’s trying to get at me but I think we got Rufus here in time.” It came out in a rush from wherever Joe had been holding it pent up.
“What’s Harlan got to do with you and Maria?”
“It ain’t that.” Joe was impatient with Watchman’s stupidity. “It ain’t me, it ain’t Maria. They put Harlan up to it.”
“Who did?”
“I guess it must have been Mr. Rand.”
“How could Rand put Harlan up to anything?”
“I heard tell they had a deal together, Harlan Natagee and Mr. Rand. Like under the table, you know?”
“You mean all that tough Indian nationalism is a smoke screen.”
“Man you don’t get as rich as Harlan by kicking white people in the teeth all the time. He’s got to be making deals all over the place. You heard about how they bust into that lawyer’s place, Kendrick, and they stole his papers?”
“Yes.”
“Well that wasn’t Rand’s people did that. Ain’t no gang of Rand’s going to bust into Whiteriver without everybody seeing them. The people would be watching them too close for them to get away with busting in anyplace, you follow me? No, man, that wasn’t Rand, that was Harlan’s boys did that.”
“You were in prison then. Who told you about it?”
Joe shrugged. “Jimmy. He was one of them, he helped bust in there and get those papers. It was Harlan told him to do that.”
“Why did Harlan want the papers?”
“Man I don’t know that, except I’ll bet you Harlan turned around and gave them right over to Mr. Rand.”
“But he couldn’t have used that excuse with Jimmy Oto, could he? He must have given Jimmy some reason.”
“I don’t know what that was.”
Will Luxan said, “Harlan is always against the man Kendrick because these lawyers and their paper, they take years, they delay everything. Harlan wants to stop all this lawyer business and get all the people to go over and dump rocks down those wells of Rand.”
“Sure,” Joe said. “If the white guys ever caught a bunch of Innuns trying to wreck Mr. Rand’s wells they’d throw the tribe’s whole case out of court. That wouldn’t be no good for the tribe. But it’d be fine for Mr. Rand.”
Joe stirred and it disturbed the pattern of the sand-painting. Watchman said, “Can you prove Harlan Natagee’s working with Rand?”
“No. But it’s got to be, man.”
“Did Jimmy Oto tell you they had a deal between them?”
“Jimmy didn’t know nothing about that. He never stopped to think much. Me, I worked it out like I’m telling you. Harlan didn’t have no cause to steal those papers. It was Mr. Rand had the cause. You check it out, I bet you find out Harlan turned them right over to him.”
“You think Harlan witched you all because Rand put him up to it?”
“Maybe—maybe.”
“All right, now you can tell me why.”
“Why what?”
“Why did Rand want all of you dead?”
“I guess he got tired of footin’ the bill,” Joe said.
5.
The pistol was a loose weight in Watchman’s hand. It was past time to pile Joe into Luxan’s car and take him out of here in handcuffs but there were questions that still needed exposure. Confine Joe inside anything other than this wickiup and there was an excellent chance he would go silent.