At three-forty-two he heard the plane. High at first, but circling. Leaphorn pointed his flashlight up. Blinked it off and on. The plane came low, buzzed the boat with landing lights on. It looked like an army reconnaissance craft.
Now Leaphorn was keeping his eye on the dark shape where cliff and water met and the darkness that hid the cave mouth. The second hand of his watch swept past 4 A.M.
Nothing happened. The hand swept down, and up, and down again. At 4:02 the blackness at the cliff base became a blinding flash of white light. Seconds passed. A tremendous
muffled thump echoed across the water, followed by a rumbling. Slabs of rocks falling inside the cave. Too many rocks for the white men to remove to clear the path to Standing Medicines sand paintings, Leaphorn thought. But not too many rocks to remove to salvage a canvas bag heavy with cash. A foot-high shock wave from the blast spread rapidly toward them across the mirror like surface of the lake. The reflected stars rippled. It reached the boat, rocked it abruptly, and moved down the lake.
They sat, waiting.
Leaphorn stared over the side, into the clear, dark water. Somewhere down below would be the hiding place of the helicopter, and the grave of Haas. He imagined how it happened. Haas with a gun in his ribs hovering the craft over this same boat, the bank loot being lowered into it, the passengers climbing down. Had they shot him then, or left a bomb aboard to be triggered when the copter was a safer fifty yards away? Whatever method, it left a trail impossible to follow.
From down the lake came the sound of another helicopter, traveling low and fast toward them.
How many, like Haas, had died to make Goldrims’s trail impossible to follow? Hosteen Tso and Anna Atcitty, certainly, and almost certainly Frederick Lynch. Leaphorn considered how it must have happened. Goldrims had been told of the secret cavern as the oldest son. He had stocked it as the base for this operation, and killed his grandfather to keep the secret safe. Then he must have returned to Washington. Why Washington?
Kelongy must be there with the Buffalo Society’s funds from the Santa Fe robbery. And when the time came for the kidnapping, Goldrims had returned to Safety Systems, Inc., and taken the dog he had coveted and corrupted and his ex-employers car, and left Frederick Lynch in no condition to report the theft and in no place where he would ever be found again. That crime, Leaphorn guessed, would have been as much personal vendetta as motivated by actual need. As for Tull, he was simply something useful. And as for Benjamin Tso . . .
Theodora Adams interrupted his thoughts. Why did Ben do that? she asked, in a choked voice. It was like he knew he would be killed. Did he do it to save me?
Leaphorn opened his mouth and closed it. Ben did it to save himself, he thought. But he didn’t say it. It wasn’t something he could explain to her if she didn’t already understand it.
FB2 document info
Document ID: 50ecdb47-bef0-4c42-9be3-0da62962c573
Document version: 1
Document creation date: 23.5.2012
Created using: calibre 0.8.48 software
Document authors :
Tony Hillerman
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