p&c.thunderhead-第35部分

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y　hour　spent　at　the　field；　five　are　spent　in　the　lab。　And　that's　where　most　of　the　important　discoveries　are　made。〃　
　She　reached　over　and　pulled　a　long　metal　tray　with　a　hinged　top　toward　them。　Lifting　the　lid；　Rowling　reached　inside　and　carefully　removed　four　oversized　Baggies。　Each　had　the　words　PONDEROSA　DRAW　scribbled　hastily　across　the　top　in　black　marker。　Skip　could　see　that　many　more　sealed　Baggies　lay　in　the　dim　recesses　of　the　tray。　
　〃What's　all　this？〃　Skip　asked。　
　〃Ponderosa　Draw　was　a　remarkable　site　in　northeastern　Arizona；〃　Rowling　replied。　〃Note　I　say　was；　not　is。　For　reasons　we　don't　fully　understand；　potsherds　of　many　different　styles　were　found　there；　scattered　in　apparent　confusion。　Perhaps　the　place　was　some　kind　of　trading　center。　In　any　case；　the　owner　of　the　land　was　an　amateur　archaeologist　with　more　enthusiasm　than　sense。　Over　three　summers　in　the　early　twenties　he　dug　the　whole　site　and　collected　every　last　sherd　he　could　find。　Scoured　the　site　clean；　above　and　below　the　surface。〃　She　gestured　at　the　bags。　〃Only　problem　was；　he　tossed　all　his　finds　together　in　a　single　pile；　paying　no　attention　to　location；　strata；　anything。　The　entire　provenance　of　the　site　was　lost。　The　sherds　were　eventually　given　to　the　Museum　of　Indian　Antiquities；　but　were　never　examined。　We　inherited　them　when　we　acquired　the　museum's　collection　three　years　ago。〃　
　Skip　stared　at　the　bags；　frowning。　〃I　thought　I　was　going　to　work　on　Nora's　Rio　Puerco　stuff。〃　
　Rowling　pursed　her　lips。　〃The　Rio　Puerco　dig　was　a　model　of　archaeological　discipline。　Material　was　carefully　gathered　and　recorded　with　a　minimum　of　on…site　intrusion。　We　stand　to　learn　a　great　deal　from　your　sister's　finds。　Whereas　this　。　。　。〃　She　gestured　at　the　bags；　letting　the　sentence　drop。　
　〃I　get　the　picture；〃　Skip　said；　his　scowl　deepening。　〃This　site　is　broken　already。　There's　nothing　I　can　do　to　make　it　worse。　And　you're　going　to　make　me　cut　my　teeth　on　it。〃　
　Rowling's　pursed　lips　curved　into　what　might　have　been　the　shadow　of　a　smile。　〃You　catch　on　fast；　Mr。　Kelly。〃　
　Skip　stared　at　the　bags　for　a　long　moment。　〃So　I　guess　these　are　just　the　tip　of　the　iceberg。〃　
　〃Another　good　guess。　There　are　twenty…five　more　bags　in　storage。〃　
　Shit。　〃And　what　do　I　have　to　do；　exactly？〃　
　〃It's　very　straightforward。　Since　we　know　nothing　at　all　about　where　these　potsherds　were　found；　or　their　position　relative　to　each　other；　all　we　can　do　is　sort　them　by　style　and　type　and　do　a　statistical　analysis　on　the　results。〃　
　Skip　licked　his　lips。　This　was　going　to　be　worse　than　he　ever　imagined。　〃Could　I　get　a　cup　of　coffee　before　we　start？〃　
　〃Nope。　No　food　or　drink　allowed　in　the　lab。　Tomorrow；　e　early　and　help　yourself　to　coffee　in　the　staff　lounge。　And　that　reminds　me。〃　She　pointed　a　thumb　at　the　nearest　wastebasket。　
　〃What？〃　
　〃Your　gum。　In　there；　please。〃　
　〃Can't　I　just　stick　it　under　the　desk？〃　
　Rowling　shook　her　head；　unamused。　Skip　leaned　over　and　spat　out　his　gum。　
　Rowling　passed　over　a　box　of　disposable　gloves。　〃Now　put　these　on。〃　She　tugged　on　a　pair　herself；　then　placed　one　of　the　artifact　bags　between　them　and　unsealed　it　carefully。　Skip　peered　inside；　curious　despite　himself。　The　sherds　came　in　a　variety　of　patterns　and　colors。　Some　were　badly　weathered；　others　still　quite　fresh。　A　few　were　corrugated　and　blackened　with　cooking　smoke。　Many　were　too　small　to　clearly　determine　what　kind　of　designs　had　been　painted　on　them；　but　some　were　large　enough　to　make　out　motifs：　wavy　lines；　series　of　diamonds；　parallel　zig…zags。　Skip　remembered　collecting　similar　sherds　with　his　father。　Back　when　he　was　a　kid；　it　had　been　okay　to　do　that。　Not　anymore。　
　The　lab　technician　removed　a　sherd　from　the　bag。　〃This　is　Cortez　black…on…white。〃　She　laid　it　gingerly　on　the　table　and　her　fingers　moved　back　into　the　bag　and　withdrew　another　sherd。　〃And　this　is　Kayenta　black…on…white。　Take　a　careful　note　of　the　differences。〃　
　She　put　the　sherds　into　two　clear　plastic　containers；　then　drew　another　sherd　from　the　bag。　〃What's　this？〃　
　Skip　scrutinized　it。　〃It　looks　like　the　first　one　you　drew　out。　Cortez。〃　
　〃Correct。〃　Rowling　put　the　sherd　into　the　first　plastic　bin；　then　drew　out　another　sherd。　〃And　this　one？〃　
　〃It's　the　other。　Kayenta。〃　
　〃Very　good。〃　Rowling　placed　the　sherd　into　the　other　bin；　then　drew　out　a　fifth　sample　from　the　bag。　〃And　how　about　this？〃　There　was　a　slightly　sardonic　expression　on　Rowling's　face；　a　faint　challenge。　It　looked　almost　like　the　second　sherd；　but　not　quite。　Skip　opened　his　mouth　to　say　Kayenta；　then　closed　it　again。　He　stared；　reaching　deep　into　his　memory。　
　〃Chuska　Wide　Banded？〃　he　asked。　
　There　was　a　sudden　pause；　and　for　a　moment　Rowling's　face　lost　its　assurance。　〃How　in　the　world…？〃　
　〃My　father　liked　potsherds；〃　said　Skip；　a　little　diffidently。　
　〃That's　going　to　help　us　a　lot；〃　she　said；　her　voice　warming。　〃Maybe　Nora　was　right。　Anyway；　you'll　find　all　sorts　of　good　things　in　here：　Cibola　ware；　St。　John's　Polychrome；　Mogollon　Brownware；　McElmo。　But　see　for　yourself。〃　She　reached　across　the　table　and　pulled　over　a　laminated　sheet。　〃This　shows　you　samples　of　the　two　dozen　or　so　styles　you're　likely　to　find　from　the　Ponderosa　Draw　site。　Separate　them　by　style；　and　put　any　questionable　sherds　to　one　side。　I'll　e　back　and　check　on　your　progress　in　an　hour　or　so。〃　
　Skip　watched　her　leave；　then　sighed　deeply　and　turned　his　attention　to　the　overstuffed　Baggie。　At　first；　the　work　seemed　both　boring　and　confusing；　and　the　heap　of　questionable　sherds　began　to　pile　up。　But　then；　almost　imperceptibly；　he　grew　more　sure　in　his　identification：　it　was　instinctive；　almost；　the　way　the　shape；　condition；　even　position　of　the　sherds　could　speak　as　loudly　as　the　design　itself。　Memories　of　long　afternoons　spent　with　his　father；　pacing　over　some　ruin　in　the　middle　of　nowhere；　came　back　with　a　bittersweet　tang。　And　then；　back　at　the　house；　poring　over　monographs；　sorting　and　gluing　the　sherds　onto　pieces　of　cardboard。　He　wondered　what　had　bee　of　all　their　painstaking　collections。　
　The　lab　was　quiet　except　for　the　occasional　keytaps　of　the　young　technician　in　the　far　corner。　Skip　started　when　he　felt　a　hand　on　his　shoulder。　
　〃So？〃　Rowling　asked　him。　〃How's　it　going？〃　
　〃Has　it　been　an　hour？〃　Skip　asked。　He　sat　up　and　looked　at　his　watch。　The　headache　was　gone。　
　〃Just　about。〃　She　peered　into　the　bins。　〃Good　heavens；　you've　worked　your　way　through　two　bags　already。〃　
　〃Does　that　make　me　teacher's　pet？〃　Skip　asked；　massaging　his　neck。　In　the　distance；　he　heard　a　rap　at　the　laboratory　door。　
　〃Let　me　look　over　your　work　first；　see　how　many　mistakes　you've　made；〃　Rowling　replied。　
　Abruptly；　a　high；　tremulous　voice　rang　out　on　the　far　side　of　the　room：　〃Skip　Kelly？　Is　there　a　Skip　Kelly　here？〃　
　Skip　glanced　up。　It　was　the　young　technician；　looking　very　nervous。　And　easing　past　him；　Skip　could　see　the　source　of　his　nervousness：　a　large　man　in　a　blue　uniform。　The　man　walked　partway　toward　Skip；　the　gun；　baton；　and　handcuffs　on　his　belt　clinking　slightly；　then　stopped。　He　hooked　his　hands　in　his　belt　with　a　slight　smile。　The　room　had　fallen　silent。　
　〃Skip　Kelly？〃　he　asked　in　a　low；　calm　baritone。　
　〃Yes；〃　said　Skip；　going　cold；　his　mind　racing　through　a　dozen　possibilities；　all　of　them　unpleasant。　That　asshole　neighbor　must　have　plained。　Or　maybe　it's　that　woman　with　the　dachshund。　Christ；　I　only　ran　over　its　back　leg；　and…　
　〃Could　I　speak　with　you　outside；　please？〃　
　In　the　solemn　darkness　of　the　anteroom；　the　man　flipped　open　an　ID　wallet　and　aimed　it　in　Skip's　direction。　〃I'm　Lieutenant　Detective　Al　Martinez；　Santa　Fe　Police　Department。〃　
　Skip　nodded。　
　〃You're　a　hard　man　to　reach；〃　Martinez　said　in　a　voice　that　managed　to　be　both　friendly　and　neutral　at　the　same　time。　〃I　wonder　if　I　could　have　a　bit　of　your　time。〃　
　〃My　time？〃　Skip　managed　to　say。　〃Why？〃　
　〃We'll　get　to　that　at　the　station；　Mr。　Kelly；　if　you　don't　mind。〃　
　〃The　station；〃　Skip　repeated。　〃When？〃　
　〃Let's　see；〃　said　Martinez；　glancing　first　at　the　floor；　then　at　the　ceiling；　then　back　at　Skip。　〃Right　about　now　would　be　nice。〃　
　Skip　swallowed。　Then　he　nodded　toward　the　open　laboratory　door。　〃I'm　at　work　right　n