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."I would say ignorance," Leaphorn said."There's no malice in it." He laughed."One of my nephews was a Boy Scout.In the Kit Carson Council.Carson wasworse in a way, because he pretended to be a friend of the Navajos." He pausedand looked at her."Washington didn't pretend," he said."He was an honestenemy."Professor Louisa Bourebonette showed absolutely no sign that she sensed thesubtle irony Leaphorn intended in that.The sun was halfway down the sky when they started down the long slope thatdrops into the San Juan River basin and Ship Rock town.They had discussedArizona State University, where Leaphorn had been a student long ago, whetherthe disease of alcoholism had racial/genetic roots, thebiography-memoir-autobiography of Hosteen Ashie Pinto the professor had beenaccumulating for twenty years, drought cycles, and law enforcement.Leaphornhad listened carefully as they talked about the Pinto book, guiding theconversation, confirming his thought that the Pinto effort was the toppriority in this woman's life but learning nothing more.He had noticed thatshe was alert to what he was noticing and that she had no problem with longsilences.They were enjoying such a silence now, rolling down the ten-milegrade toward the town.The cottonwoods along the river formed a crooked lineof dazzling gold across a vast landscape of grays and tans.And beyond, thedark blue mountains formed the horizon, the Abajos, Sleeping Ute, and the SanJuans, already capped with early snow.It was one of those still, golden daysof high desert autumn.Then Leaphorn broke the mood."I told the captain in charge of the Ship Rock subagency I'd let him know whenI got here," he said, and picked up the mike.The dispatcher said Captain Largo wasn't in."You expect him soon?""I don't know.We had a shooting.He went out on that about an hour ago.Ithink he'll be back pretty quick.""A homicide?""Maybe.We sent an ambulance.You want me to call the captain?""Don't interrupt him," Leaphorn said."When he comes in, tell him I wentdirectly out to the Huan Ji residence.Tell him I'll fill him in if I learnanything.""Huan Ji," the dispatcher said."That's where the shooting was reported.That's where we sent the ambulance."Chapter 13They met the ambulance returning to the Ship Rock Public Health ServiceHospital as they turned off onto Huan Ji's street.The emergency lights wereflashing and the siren growling.Leaphorn had been around violence too long tobe deceived by that.The driver was in no hurry.He recognized Leaphorn asthey passed, and raised a hand in salute.Whoever had been shot at Huan Ji'sPage 78ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.htmlplace was either in no danger or he was already dead.Ji's house was a rectangular frame-and-stucco bungalow in a block of suchstructures.They had been designed long ago by a Bureau of Indian Affairsbureaucrat to house Bureau of Indian Affairs employees.As they had weatheredand sagged, they had passed from that existence and become tribalproperty-occupied now by schoolteachers, hospital clerks, road-graderoperators, and similar folk.Ji's house was instantly recognizable.It hadattracted a cluster of police cars and a scattering of neighbors watching fromtheir yards.Even without the magnet of this temporary tragedy, it would havestood out.It was surrounded by a neat chain-link fence and flanked by a tidy graveldriveway that led to an empty carport.Inside the fence was a flower bed,precisely bordered by a perfectly aligned row of bricks.Six rose bushes werespaced on each side of the concrete sidewalk.Autumn had turned theBermuda-grass lawn gray, but it was trimmed and ready for spring.The house itself was a clone of its neighbors and as alien as a Martian.In arow of houses frayed, faded, and weary, its fresh white paint and fresh bluetrim seemed a reproach to the dusty street.Captain Largo, as neat as the house but somewhat smaller, was standing on theporch.He was talking to a skinny tribal policeman and a neat young man in afelt hat and a dark gray business suit-which meant in Four Corners countrythat he was either an agent of the Federal Bureau of Investigation or a youngman making his mission for the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.Largo's bulk made them both look unnaturally small.He recognized Leaphorn andwaved.Leaphorn glanced at Bourebonette, thinking of how to phrase his request.She anticipated it."I'll wait in the car," she said."I won't be long," Leaphorn said.On the porch, Largo introduced him.The skinny policeman was Eldon Roanhorse,who Leaphorn vaguely remembered from some affair out of the past, and GraySuit was Theodore Rostik of the Farmington office of the Federal Bureau ofInvestigation."Mr.Rostik just transferred in this summer," Largo said."Lieutenant Leaphornis with our criminal investigation division.Out of Window Rock."If Rostik was impressed by Leaphorn or his title, he concealed it.He noddedto Leaphorn, turned back to Largo."Window Rock," he said."How'd he know about this? How did he get here soquick?"Once this rudeness would have irritated Leaphorn.That was a long time ago.Hesaid, "I just happened to be up here on another matter.What do you have?""Homicide," Largo said."Somebody shot the owner here.Twice.No witnesses.Mailman heard him moaning.Looked in and saw him on the floor and turned itin.""Any suspects?"Page 79ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html"We're talking to neighbors but nobody much seems to have been around when ithappened," Largo said."This will be a federal case," Rostik said."Felony on a federal reservation.""Of course," Leaphorn said."We'll help any way we can.Interpreting, thingslike that.Where's his wife?""Neighbors say he's a widower," Roan-horse said."He was a teacher down at thehigh school.He lived here with his boy.Teenaged kid.""If we need help-" Rostik began, but Leaphorn held up his hand."Just a second," he said."Where's his car?""Car?" Rostik said."We've got a call out on it," Largo said, looking solemnly at Leaphorn."Iunderstand it's an old white Jeepster.""The son wasn't here?""Not unless he did it," Rostik said."When the mailman got here there was justMr.Ji.""Mr.Rostik," Leaphorn said, "if you don't have any objection, I'd like tolook around inside.Nothing will be touched.""Well, now," Rostik said.He cleared his throat."I don't see what-"Captain Largo, who almost never interrupted, interrupted now."The lieutenantis usually our liaison with the Bureau in cases like this.He'd better seewhat you have here," he said, and led the way inside [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]