thillerman.theblessingway-第11部分

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　〃You　think　maybe　Horseman　and　somebody　else　both　found　the　old　rocket　and　fought　over　who'd　get　the　reward？〃　McKee　asked。
　Leaphorn　shrugged。　He　asked　Bishbito　if　he　could　use　his　office　telephone　for　a　long…distance　call。
　McKee　finished　his　meal；　eating　dutifully；　feeling　simultaneously　disappointed　and　ashamed　of　that　disappointment。　He　had　once　again；　as　he　had　for　years；　fallen　victim　to　his　optimism。　Expecting　something　when　there　was　always　nothing。　Anticipating　some　romantic　mystery　in　what　Takes　and　Leaphorn　must　already　see　as　a　sordid；　routine　little　homicide。　It　was　this　flaw；　he　knew；　that　had　cost　him　these　last　eight　years　of　anguish；　turned　to　misery；　turned　to　what　now　was　simply　numbness。　He　could　still　see　the　note；　blue　ink　on　blue　paper　in　Sara's　easy　script：
　〃Berg。　I　am　meeting　Scotty　in　Las　Vegas　tonight。　I　won't　contest　the　divorce。〃
　Simply　that；　and　her　signature。　It　was　not　Sara's　style　to　add　the　unnecessary　explanation；　to　say　that　he　was　a　dull；　nondescript　man　in　a　dull；　dead…end　job；　and　that　Scotty　was　exciting；　in　an　exciting　world　of　money　and　executive　jets　and　Caribbean　weekends。　He　cursed　himself　as　he　always　did　when　he　thought　of　it；　cursed　the　flaw　that　made　him　ignore　the　fact　that　he　was　a　clumsy；　unbrilliant；　average　man；　grotesquely　misfit　in　the　circle　of　slim；　cool　Saras　and　reckless；　witty　Scotts。
　He　turned　away　from　the　memory　and　thought　of　Horseman；　another　failure　as　a　man；　wondering　why　he　had　let　himself　expect　anything　exotic　in　his　death。　And　then　he　turned　away　from　that　thought；　too。　Horseman　was　none　of　his　business。　He　would　get　back　to　his　research；　now。　The　Charley　Tsosie　family　would　be　busy；　taking　ritual　sweat　baths　and　preparing　for　their　curing　ceremonial。　But　there　was　still　Ben　Yazzie　to　be　interviewed　and　Afraid　of　His　Horse　to　be　found。
　He　flipped　through　his　notebook。　Old　Lady　Gray　Rocks　had　said　Ben　Yazzie　grazed　his　sheep　back　on　the　Lukachukai　plateau　in　the　summer。　He　would　go　to　the　subagency　office　and　find　out　where　Yazzie　and　Afraid　of　His　Horse　had　their　hogans。　And　then　he　would　get　on　with　his　interviewing。　He　reread　the　notes　he　had　accumulated　at　Shoemaker's　and　from　talking　to　the　old　woman。　Nothing　much　on　Afraid　of　His　Horse；　but　the　Yazzie　gossip　followed　the　usual　pattern。　A　man　at　the　trading　post　had　said　Yazzie　had　noticed　a　coyote　following　him；　and　since　the　coyote　was　the　messenger　of　the　Holy　People；　Yazzie　had　accepted　this　as　a　sign　of　danger。　And　then　there　had　been　the　usual　sounds　in　the　night；　interpreted　as　the　witch　trying　to　put　corpse　powder　down　the　smoke　hole　in　the　hogan　roof；　and　the　usual　dead　lambs；　and　the　usual　third…hand　account　in　which　Yazzie　had　seen　a　dog　hanging　around　the　flock　and；　when　the　dog　ran　away；　it　turned　into　a　man。
　Leaphorn　was　returning　from　his　telephone　call；　McKee　returned　the　notebook　to　his　pocket。　He　would　start　with　Yazzie　this　afternoon。
　〃Well；〃　Leaphorn　said；　〃there　went　our　motive。〃　He　sat　down。　〃The　colonel　said　the　reward　expired　two　years　ago。　Their　lost　bird　is　obsolete　now。〃　He　laughed。　〃In　fact；　I　think　he's　hoping　it　stays　lost。　Sort　of　embarrassing　to　lose　one　like　that　and　then　have　it　turn　up　after　everybody's　forgotten　about　it。〃
　〃So　we're　right　back　noplace；〃　Takes　said。
　〃I　had　an　idea；〃　McKee　said。　〃Let's　say　somebody　else　was　hiding　out　back　in　that　area　and　they　didn't　want　the　Navajo　police　ing　in　with　a　search　party。　Let's　say　they　decided　the　way　to　keep　that　from　happening　was　to　get　Horseman　out　where　he　would　be　found。〃
　As　he　said　it；　McKee　realized　it　sounded　hopelessly　farfetched；　but　Leaphorn's　face　was　grim。
　〃I　thought　of　that；　too；〃　he　said。　〃The　autopsy　showed　he　was　killed　between　six　and　midnight　the　day　I　was　at　Shoemaker's　telling　everybody　we　were　going　in　after　him　if　he　didn't　e　out。　If　we　figure　it　that　way；　I'm　the　one　who　got　him　killed。〃
　
　Chapter　9
　
　Bergen　McKee　honked　the　horn　of　his　pickup　when　he　crossed　the　final　eroded　ridge　and　saw　the　hogan　of　Ben　Yazzie　on　the　slope　below。　It　was　an　unnecessary　gesture…since　the　engine　could　have　been　heard　long　before　the　horn…but　a　courteous　one。　It　gave　official　notice　to　the　hogan　that　a　visitor　was　ing　and　McKee　guessed　it　was　a　universal　custom　among　rural　people。　His　father；　he　remembered；　would　never　approach　another's　farmhouse　without　pausing　at　the　gate　to　holler；　〃Hello；〃　until　properly　acknowledged。　Among　people　who　depended　more　upon　distance　from　neighbors　than　window　blinds　to　preserve　their　privacy　it　was　a　practical　habit。
　The　place　consisted　of　two　octagonal　hogans　of　unpeeled　ponderosa　logs；　a　small　plank　storage　shack；　and　two　brush　arbors；　all　built　in　a　cluster　of　cedar　at　the　edge　of　a　small　arroyo。　Just　over　the　lip　of　the　arroyo；　two　sheep　pens　had　been　built　of　cedar　poles；　with　the　arroyo　bank　furnishing　one　wall。　The　pens　were　empty　now；　and　as　McKee　coasted　his　truck　slowly　past　them　he　saw　that　the　hogans　were　equally　deserted。
　No　cooking　pots　hung　under　the　brush　shelter；　no　clothing　hung　out　to　air；　none　of　the　accumulated　odds　and　ends　of　Navajo　living　cluttered　the　area。　He　climbed　out　of　the　truck　and　sat　in　the　scanty　shade；　feeling　tired　and　disappointed。
　McKee　lit　a　cigarette　and　considered　his　next　step。　In　time；　he　could　relocate　the　Yazzie　family　through　Shoemaker。　They　traded　there　and　some　of　Ben　Yazzie's　silver　concho　belts　were　in　pawn　there。　But　it　might　be　weeks　before　any　of　the　Yazzie　family；　or　anyone　who　knew　where　he　had　moved；　showed　up　at　the　store。　That　left　just　two　possible　sources　in　the　Many　Ruins　area；　Afraid　of　His　Horse；　whose　sheep　camp　was　supposed　to　be　somewhere　north　of　the　canyon；　and　Charley　Tsosie。　Tsosie　would　be　occupied　at　the　Enemy　Way　for　at　least　two　days。　Sheep　camp　tended　to　move　with　the　grazing　and　would　be　hard　to　find。　But　he　would　look　for　Afraid　of　His　Horse。
　It　was　easy　to　see　why　Yazzie　had　built　his　hogan　here。　Behind　the　habitations；　the　sandstone　cliffs　of　a　butte　rose　abruptly　to　the　north　and　west…a　hundred　centuries　of　talus　at　its　base；　then　two　hundred　feet　of　sheer；　smooth　reddish　stone；　with　streaks　of　dark　discoloration　from　seepage；　then　a　softer　gray　layer　of　perlite；　pocked　and　carved　with　blowholes　and　caves；　and　above　this　the　overhanging　cap　of　hard；　black　igneous　rock。　It　gave　the　hogans　shelter　from　the　southwest　winds　and　shade　from　the　late…afternoon　sun。　To　the　north　and　east；　the　country　was　a　fantastic　jumble　of　colossal　erosion　dominated　by　another　towering　flat…topped　butte。　All　the　colors　of　the　spectrum　are　there；　McKee　thought。　Everything　but　pure　green。　What　little　grass　there　was　was　out　of　sight；　hidden　in　the　pockets　where　soil　could　collect　to　hold　roots　and　where　runoff　from　the　immensity　of　rocks　could　be　held　and　absorbed。　He　had　passed　several　such　grassy　places　following　the　wagon　trail　here。　Some；　he　had　noticed；　had　been　heavily　grazed　by　sheep。　Most　had　not。　Yazzie　must　have　been　badly　frightened　to　move　his　flock　away　from　grass。
　The　clouds　were　building　now　above　the　Lukachukai　peaks　and　McKee　thought　there　might　be　a　thunder　shower　over　Many　Ruins　Canyon　by　sundown。　He　and　Canfield　had　camped　well　up　off　the　floor　of　the　canyon；　safe　from　flash　floods；　but　he　had　left　most　of　his　gear　outside　the　tent。　Canfield　might　be　there　to　take　care　of　things；　or　he　might　be　out　digging　into　the　burial　site　at　one　of　the　ruins；　when　he　was　working；　Canfield　could　not　be　depended　upon　to　notice　it　was　raining。
　McKee　butted　out　his　cigarette　and　pushed　himself　to　his　feet；　noticing　the　stiffness　of　his　muscles　and　thinking　ruefully　that　sitting　behind　a　desk　was　poor　conditioning　for　a　field　trip。　It　was　then　he　noticed　the　smell。
　It　was　a　faint　smell；　borne　on　a　sudden　light　breeze　which　had　fanned　up　the　arroyo　past　the　hogans。　McKee　recognized　it　instantly。　The　smell　of　death　and　decaying　flesh。　He　stood　stockstill　beside　the　truck；　studying　the　silent　hogans。　If　the　odor　had　e　from　them；　he　would　have　noticed　it　earlier。　He　walked　slowly　down　the　slope。　Beyond　the　brush　arbor　he　stopped　and　stood　silently　again；　listening。　Behind　the　hogans；　the　arroyo　curved　sharply　around　a　high　outcropping　of　rock　topped　by　a　growth　of　juni