...And now, at 10:55, Chee parked beside Bistie's now-dark light pole,
got out, and waited for the entourage to finish its arrival. He felt
foolish. Bistie's truck was still absent. Bistie's shack was dark.
Everything seemed to be exactly as they had left it. The chance of
Bistie's hanging around to await this posse simply didn't exist.
There was a general slamming of doors.
Chee explained the layout, pointed up into the darkness to the hogan
from which the shots had come. They moved up the slope, weapons drawn,
the state policeman carrying a riot gun, the deputy carrying a rifle.
What had happened here two hours before already seemed unreal to Chee,
something he had imagined.
No one was at the hogan, or in it.
"Here's some brass," the state policeman said. He was an old-timer, with
red hair and a freckled, perpetually sunburned face. He stood frowning
down at a copper-colored metal cylinder which reflected the beam of his
flashlight. "Looks like thirty-eight caliber," he said. "Who'll be
handling the evidence?"
"Just leave it there for Kennedy," Chee said. "There should be another
one." He was thinking that the empty cartridge certainly wasn't from a
30-30. It was shorter. Pistol ammunition. And, since it had been
ejected, probably from an automatic not a revolver. If Bistie had fired
it, he seemed to have quite an arsenal.
"Here it is," the state policeman said. His flashlight was focused on
the ground about a long step from where the first cartridge lay. "Same
Chee didn't bother to look at it. He considered asking everyone to be
careful of where they walked, to avoid erasing any useful tracks. But as
dry and windy as it was, he couldn't imagine tracking as anything but a
waste of time. Except for the drag marks. Whatever had been dragged up
here should be easy to find.
"Hey," Gorman shouted. "Here's a body."
It was half hidden in a clump of chamiso, head downhill, feet uphill,
legs still spraddled apart as if whoever had dragged it there had been
using them to pull the body along and had simply dropped them
The body had been Roosevelt Bistie. In the combined lights of Chee's and
Gorman's flashlights, the yellow look of his face was intensifiedbut
death had done little to change his expression. Bistie still looked grim
and bitter, as if being shot was only what he'd expecteda fitting
ending for a disappointing life. The dragging had pulled his shirt up
over his shoulders, leaving chest and stomach bare. The waxy skin where
the rib cage joined at the sternum showed two small holes, one just
below the other. The lower one had bled a little. Very small holes, Chee
thought. It seemed odd that such trivial holes would let out the wind of
Gorman was looking at him, a question in his face.
"This is Bistie," Chee said. "Looks like the guy who shot Lieutenant
Leaphorn had shot this guy. I guess he was dragging him up here when we
drove up, the lieutenant and me."
"And after he shot the lieutenant he just took off," Gorman said.
"And got clean away," Chee added.
Four flashlights now were illuminating the body. Only the San Juan
County deputy was still out in the darkness, doing his fruitless job.
Down in Roosevelt Bistie's yard below, two more vehicles parked. Chee
heard doors slam, the voice of Kennedy, the sound of Kennedy and Captain
Largo coming up the slope. Chee's flashlight now was focused above the
bullet wounds at a place on Bistie's left breasta reddish mark, narrow,
perhaps a half-inch long, where a cut was healing. It would seem,
normally, an odd place for such a cut. It made Jim Chee think of
Bistie's wallet, and the bone bead he had seen in it, and whether the
wallet would have been dragged out of Bistie's hip pocket on his
heels-first trip up this rocky slope, and whether the bone bead would
still be in it when it was found.
...Behind him, the state policeman was shouting to Largo, telling him
they'd found a body. The wind kicked up again, blowing a flurry of sand
against Chee's face. He closed his eyes against it, and when he reopened
them, a fragment of dead tumbleweed had lodged itself against Bistie's
Largo had joined the circle now, and Kennedy. Chee sensed them standing
just behind him, staring down at the body.
"There's what killed him," the state policeman said. "Two gunshots
through the chest."
Just on the edge of the circle of illumination, Chee could see the
healing cut on Bistie's breast. Those two bullets had completed the
death of Roosevelt Bistie. But the little wound high on his breast above
them had been where Roosevelt Bistie's death had started.
INT. LEAPHORN HOUSE - EARLY MORNING
Sorry. I didn't mean to wake you up.
What did you mean, Officer Chee?
I got some good news and bad news. I
know where to find the man who can
tell us what this means.
And the bad news?
Well, that's why I'm here early. We
got about sixty miles of Jeep trail
to reach him. I figure we better get on it.
Why can't we just call him, have
him come down to the station?
That's the thing. He's been hired
to help out on some archeological
dig. And he's not gonna be back for weeks.
Honey? Let him in.
Officer Chee, this is my wife, Emma.
Hi. I'm Jim.
Salt Clan, born for the many goats.
So am I! Hey, brother. You must be
one of those Chees from out by
Yes, I am.
So which one has all those Palominos?
Oh, that's Uncle Nat. You know he's
supposed to be givin' me one.
Would you like some coffee?
INT. KITCHEN - LATER
Yeah. You just boil it, put it in
a baggie and wrap it over the foot.
Hm. Hear this, Joe? Free medical
advice. Hey, Joe has athlete's
foot so bad...
For cryin' out loud, Emma.
Oh, don't be embarrassed, Joe.
Jim here is a...
Yeah, I know. A medicine man. Let's go.
Thank you for the coffee, ma'am.
Maybe next time you'll get to finish it.
Oh, don't be so grouchy. (kiss)
(AS SHE TAKES THE CUPS TO THE KITCHEN, SHE DOUBLES OVER IN PAIN.)
EXT. ANASAZI RUIN - DAY
(THEY ARRIVE AT THE CLEARING TO A SMALL CAMPSITE.)
(calling out) Mr. Bistie!
(to Leaphorn) You okay?
I'm fine. You go on ahead.
And why not?
The ruins. It's not good for
healers to be around them.
It's an archeological dig, Officer Chee.
What did you expect to find up here? Easter eggs?
(LEAPHORN CONTINUES ON, LEAVING CHEE BEHIND.)
(calling out) Mr. Bistie? Mr. Bistie?
(CHEE FINDS A BLOODY PLASTIC BAG.)
(CHEE EXAMINES THE BOILING POT. A RUNG ON THE LADDER BREAKS AND LEAPHORN
(CHEE FINDS A SEVERED HUMAN HAND BOILING IN THE POT.)
(calling out) Chee! Chee!
Detective! Are you all right?