"I ran into Delo Bellman yesterday at Two Grey Hills. He said Doherty had a bunch of stuff with him relating to gold mining. Some articles about that famous old Golden Calf diggings. He said it would remind me of the Wiley Denton case. Wiley shooting that con man. That sound right?"
Chee nodded, made a wry face. "As you may have heard I'm not all that popular with the Bureau these days. But the grapevine told me it looked like Doherty might have been looking into that McKay homicide himself. I heard some of the stuff the Federals found in his briefcase must have been copied out of the evidence files in that homicide."
"He was old Bart Hegarty's nephew," Leaphorn said. "And it's an old dead case. He could have gotten that easily enough."
"I gather there's no suspect yet. I wonder if the Bureau has picked Denton as its man," Chee said.
Leaphorn sipped his coffee and considered. Chee was asking him what he thought about that idea. And, indeed, the fact was he had thought about it. He hadn't found any sign of a sensible connection, but something about it nagged at him. Hinted there might be one if he was smart enough to find it.
"What would be Denton's motive?" Leaphorn asked.
"Pretty vague," Chee said. "I guess the theory of the crime is that Doherty wanted to finish what McKay started. Tell Denton he'd located the Golden Calf, try to milk him for some money."
Leaphorn smiled. "Vague indeed," he said. "That would make him either pretty stupid. Or maybe suicidal." He wanted off this subject. To get Chee to tell him what was really on his mind. So he said: "Bellman said he heard the Federals wanted Manuelito suspended."
"That seems to be true," Chee said.
Leaphorn shook his head. "I wouldn't worry much about it. Nothing happens if you arrest the killer. Otherwise if a scapegoat is required, she'd get suspended a week or so. Probably with pay. I'd think that would be the worst."
Chee said: "Well…" then stopped.
Leaphorn waited awhile, took another sip of coffee. "Miss Manuelito seemed like a fine officer from what I saw of her when you were working on that casino robbery. Probably has a good record in her personnel jacket. But maybe there's something I don't know about this."
"There is," Chee said. "Can I talk to you in confidence? Because I may wish I'd kept my mouth shut."
Their lunches arrived. Leaphiorn stirred sugar into his fresh cup of coffee.
"I guess you're sort of asking if maybe you can tell me something that if it came down to crunch I might have to deny you told me?"
"Something like that," Chee said. You never had to explain anything to the Legendary Lieutenant.
"Well," Leaphorn said. "I think I know you well enough so I can rely on your judgment. Go ahead and tell me."
Chee extracted a Ziploc bag from his jacket pocket and put it on the table.
"Officer Manuelito picked this up at the crime scene, in a bush beside the car. She used it to hold the weed seeds she'd been collecting."
"Looks like an old Prince Albert tobacco tin," Leap-horn said.
He looked at Chee, expression curious.
Chee took another plastic bag from his pocket, handed it to Leaphorn.
"When she got home and dumped her seeds out into a bowl, this came out."
"Looks like arroyo bottom sand," Leaphorn said. He shook the bag in his palm, studied it. "Or is it?" he asked. "Color's a little off and it seems too heavy."
"It's partly sand and I think it's partly placer gold dust."
"Be damned," said Leaphorn. He opened the plastic bag, rubbed a pinch of the sand between his fingertips, and examined what stuck to the skin. "I'm no assayer, but I'll bet you're right."
"She said she picked up the can from some weeds maybe three or four feet from the driver-side door," Chee said. "Gave it to me because she thought it might be evidence." He laughed at that, a sort of grim laugh.
"For you to give to the fbi?"
"Sure," Chee said, sounding bitter. "To do my duty. And absolutely guarantee she'll get suspended with a reprimand in her file. I told her that's what would happen, and she said she guessed she deserved it." Chee grimaced at that and looked down into his cup, seeing not coffee but Bernie standing rigidly in front of his desk, looking very small, very slim, her black hair glossy and her uniform neater than usual. She had glanced down and away, made one of those vague motions with her lips that expressed regret and apology and then looked up at him, her dark eyes sad, awaiting his verdict. And he had understood then why he'd never rated her as cute. There was dignity in her face. She was beautiful. And then she had said: "I guess I'm just too careless to be in police work." And what had he said? Something stupid, he was sure. And now Leaphorn was studying him, wondering why he was just staring into his cup of coffee.
"It might be evidence, all right," Leaphorn said. "With that placer gold in it. It could be connected to the crime."
"So, Lieutenant, how do I handle this? I guess I'm asking you what you'd do if you were me?"
Leaphorn put a forkful of enchilada in his mouth. Chewed it. Took another bite. Frowned. "Do you know the L.C. of this one? Is it the one you got crosswise with a couple of years back in that case involving the eagle poaching?"
"No. He was transferred," Chee said. "Thank God for that small favor."
Leaphorn took another bite, said: "But the memory will linger in the federal tribe for a while."
"I'm sure it will," Chee said.
"I think if it was me, and the officer was a good one I wanted to keep in my department, I'd take that tobacco can and put it back exactly where Bernie found it. Then I'd tell someone, in a suitably subtle way, someone who had some business out there, tell them where to look for it and ask him to go find it. Then he could call the fbi and tell them he's noticed this tin out there and let them find it for themselves. Do you have any of your Shiprock people working the crime scene?"
"They've dealt us out of it," Chee said. He'd thought he'd got beyond being surprised by Leaphorn, but he hadn't. Was the Legendary Lieutenant volunteering to do this himself?
Leaphorn was smiling, mostly to himself.
"Well then, I've got a legitimate reason to go out there and take a look," he said. "I still get kidded now and then about being obsessed with that McKay killing. I'll be looking for a connection. Worst they can do is tell me to go away."
"Connection? Isn't that going to sound pretty weak?"
"Awful weak," Leaphorn said. "Maybe I'll just tell 'em I'm a bored old ex-cop looking for a way to kill time. Maybe they'll be finished at the scene and nobody will even ask."
"I've always wondered why you were so interested in that case," Chee said. "Hell, Denton laid it all out. Admitted he shot McKay, claimed it was self-defense, and worked out a plea bargain. You've had doubts about that?"
"He got a year, served part of it with time off for behaving," Leaphorn said. "I had some doubts about the self-defense, but mostly I've always wondered what happened to Linda Denton."
"Linda Denton? What do you mean?" Leaphorn was surprising him again. Chee checked his memory. The way it came to him, the young Mrs. Denton had set her wealthy old hubby up for McKay's swindle and then ran when the plan didn't work out. "Now I'm wondering why you've been wondering."
Leaphorn smiled, consumed a bit more of his lunch. Shook his head.
"You're going to think I'm an old-fashioned romantic," he said. "That's what Louisa—what Professor Bourbonette says. Tells me to get real."
Chee finally took the first bite from his hamburger, studying Leaphorn. The Legendary Lieutenant actually looked slightly abashed. Or was he imagining it?
"You really want to hear all this?" Leaphorn asked. "It takes time."
"I do," Chee said.
"Well, of course it was a McKinley County case because Denton built his house outside Gallup city limits. Lorenzo Perez was undersheriff then and handling major crime investigations. Good man, Lorenzo. He had himself a clear-cut uncomplicated case with the shooter admitting it. Only question was how much self-defense was involved. Where'd the gun come from the con man had? You remember the story Denton told? McKay had told him he'd located the Golden Calf diggings and needed money to file claims and begin development. He'd let Denton in for fifty grand. In cash. So Denton drew the money out of his bank, had it in a briefcase at his house. McKay shows him a bunch of stuff, a little bit of placer gold, part of a map, some other stuff. Denton spots it as bogus, tells McKay to get out. McKay says he'll take the money with him. He pulls a gun and Denton shoots him."