![Hillerman, Tony - [Leaphorn & Chee 05]](https://fs.collectorofbookboyfriends.com/460177/thumbs/152x264/hillerman-tony-leaphorn-chee-05.jpg)
Hillerman, Tony - [Leaphorn & Chee 05] by The Dark Wind (v1.1) [html] Page B
Authors: The Dark Wind (v1.1) [html]
Ads: Link
soft voice. He laughed a mild, soft sound. "But what difference is it?"
"Not much," Chee said. "But he did land here. Deeper impression at the impact point, and the bounce marks. And if you go over there and take a close look, you notice the sand is blown back more on the tracks where he lifted off. Engine really revving up then, you know, and idling when he landed."
The attorney's soft eyes were examining Chee. "Yes," he said. "Of course. Can you still read that in the sand?"
"If you look," Chee said.
Miss Pauling was staring down the wash toward the wreckage. "But if he touched down here, he had plenty of time to stop. He had more room than he needed."
"The night he crashed, he didn't touch down here," Chee said. He walked toward the wreckage. A hundred yards, two hundred yards. Finally he stopped. He squatted again, touched a faint indentation in the sand with a fingertip. "Here was the first lantern," he said. He glanced over his shoulder. "And his wheels touched right there. See? Just a few feet past the lantern."
Miss Pauling looked at the wheel tracks and then past them at the wreckage, looming just ahead of them. "My God," she said. "He didn't have a chance, did he?"
"Somebody put out five lanterns in a straight line between here and the rock." Chee pointed. "There were five more lanterns on the other side of the rock."
The lawyer was staring at Chee, lips slightly parted. He read the implications of the lantern placement instantly. Miss Pauling was thinking of something else. "Did he have his landing lights on? Your report didn't mention that."
"I didn't see any light," Chee said. "I think I would have seen the glow."
"So he was depending on whoever put the lanterns out," Miss Pauling said. Then what Chee had said about the lanterns beyond the rock finally reached her. She looked at him, her face startled. "Five more lanterns beyond the rock? Behind it?"
"Yes," Chee said. He felt a pity for the woman. To lose your brother is bad. To learn someone killed him is worse.
"But why…?"
Chee shook his head. "Maybe somebody wanted him to land but not to take off," he said. "I don't know. Maybe I'm wrong about the lanterns. All I found was the little depressions. Like this one."
She stared at him wordlessly. Studying him. "You don't think you're wrong."
"Well, no," Chee said. "This little oval shape, with these sharp indentations around the edge—it looks just the size and shape for those dry-cell batteries you attach the lantern bulb to. I'll measure it and check, but I don't know what else it would be."
"No," Miss Pauling said. She released a long breath, and with it her shoulders slumped. A little life seemed to leave her. "I don't know what else it would be, either." Miss Pauling's face had changed. It had hardened. "Somebody killed him."
"These lanterns," the lawyer said. "They were gone when you got here? They weren't mentioned in your report."
"They were gone," Chee said. "I found the trace of them just before you drove up. When I was here before, it was dark."
"But they weren't in the follow-up report either. The one that was made after the airplane was searched and all that. That was done in the daytime."
"That was federal cops," Chee said. "I guess they didn't notice the marks."
The lawyer looked at Chee thoughtfully. "I wouldn't have," he said finally. He smiled. "I've always heard that Indians were good trackers."
A long time ago, in his senior year at the University of New Mexico, Chee had resolved never to let such generalizations irritate him. It was a resolution he rarely managed to keep.
"I am a Navajo," Chee said. "We don't have a word in our language for 'Indians.' Just specific words. For Utes, and Hopis, and Apaches. A white is a
belacani
, a Mexican is a
nakai
. So forth. Some Navajos are good at tracking. Some aren't. You learn it by studying it. Like law."
"Of course," the lawyer said. He was still observing Chee. "But how do you learn it?"
"I had a teacher," Chee said. "My
"Not much," Chee said. "But he did land here. Deeper impression at the impact point, and the bounce marks. And if you go over there and take a close look, you notice the sand is blown back more on the tracks where he lifted off. Engine really revving up then, you know, and idling when he landed."
The attorney's soft eyes were examining Chee. "Yes," he said. "Of course. Can you still read that in the sand?"
"If you look," Chee said.
Miss Pauling was staring down the wash toward the wreckage. "But if he touched down here, he had plenty of time to stop. He had more room than he needed."
"The night he crashed, he didn't touch down here," Chee said. He walked toward the wreckage. A hundred yards, two hundred yards. Finally he stopped. He squatted again, touched a faint indentation in the sand with a fingertip. "Here was the first lantern," he said. He glanced over his shoulder. "And his wheels touched right there. See? Just a few feet past the lantern."
Miss Pauling looked at the wheel tracks and then past them at the wreckage, looming just ahead of them. "My God," she said. "He didn't have a chance, did he?"
"Somebody put out five lanterns in a straight line between here and the rock." Chee pointed. "There were five more lanterns on the other side of the rock."
The lawyer was staring at Chee, lips slightly parted. He read the implications of the lantern placement instantly. Miss Pauling was thinking of something else. "Did he have his landing lights on? Your report didn't mention that."
"I didn't see any light," Chee said. "I think I would have seen the glow."
"So he was depending on whoever put the lanterns out," Miss Pauling said. Then what Chee had said about the lanterns beyond the rock finally reached her. She looked at him, her face startled. "Five more lanterns beyond the rock? Behind it?"
"Yes," Chee said. He felt a pity for the woman. To lose your brother is bad. To learn someone killed him is worse.
"But why…?"
Chee shook his head. "Maybe somebody wanted him to land but not to take off," he said. "I don't know. Maybe I'm wrong about the lanterns. All I found was the little depressions. Like this one."
She stared at him wordlessly. Studying him. "You don't think you're wrong."
"Well, no," Chee said. "This little oval shape, with these sharp indentations around the edge—it looks just the size and shape for those dry-cell batteries you attach the lantern bulb to. I'll measure it and check, but I don't know what else it would be."
"No," Miss Pauling said. She released a long breath, and with it her shoulders slumped. A little life seemed to leave her. "I don't know what else it would be, either." Miss Pauling's face had changed. It had hardened. "Somebody killed him."
"These lanterns," the lawyer said. "They were gone when you got here? They weren't mentioned in your report."
"They were gone," Chee said. "I found the trace of them just before you drove up. When I was here before, it was dark."
"But they weren't in the follow-up report either. The one that was made after the airplane was searched and all that. That was done in the daytime."
"That was federal cops," Chee said. "I guess they didn't notice the marks."
The lawyer looked at Chee thoughtfully. "I wouldn't have," he said finally. He smiled. "I've always heard that Indians were good trackers."
A long time ago, in his senior year at the University of New Mexico, Chee had resolved never to let such generalizations irritate him. It was a resolution he rarely managed to keep.
"I am a Navajo," Chee said. "We don't have a word in our language for 'Indians.' Just specific words. For Utes, and Hopis, and Apaches. A white is a
belacani
, a Mexican is a
nakai
. So forth. Some Navajos are good at tracking. Some aren't. You learn it by studying it. Like law."
"Of course," the lawyer said. He was still observing Chee. "But how do you learn it?"
"I had a teacher," Chee said. "My
Similar Books
