‘Tyler Willis is still our best bet for now,’ Ethan said. ‘We’ll start digging through records once we’ve got a better idea of why Conley was so important.’
Enrico Zamora chuckled as he pulled the cruiser into a parking lot filled with rental vehicles, stopping outside the reception area where an old Mercury Tracer sedan awaited them.
‘Well, good luck with that.’
‘I’m sure he’s not that bad,’ Lopez said as she reached for the door.
‘He’s not bad,’ Zamora agreed, ‘but he sure ain’t on this planet.’
‘What do you mean?’ Ethan asked.
‘He’s one of those who’s all for crazy talk,’ Zamora said quietly. ‘Willis said that he was delirious an’ all from lack of blood on account of his shoulder wound, but I was with him up there on the pass and he spoke plainly enough to me.’
‘What did he say?’ Ethan pressed.
Zamora shook his head slowly as if still struggling to understand. Ethan watched him run his hand through his hair again, and wondered if doing so was a nervous reaction of some kind for the officer.
‘Just before I shot Conley, Tyler Willis was begging me not to fire, tellin’ me not to shoot the old man.’
‘Why?’ Lopez asked. ‘Surely he’d have wanted Conley dead after what happened.’
‘So you’d suppose,’ Zamora agreed.
Ethan thought for a moment.
‘You said that the ranger who reported the shooting said that Willis and Conley were arguing up on the pass, and then Conley shot Willis at close range.’
‘That’s what he told me,’ Zamora confirmed. ‘What of it?’
‘If they were arguing, then they can’t have been that far apart,’ Ethan said. ‘Conley couldn’t have missed Willis with a rifle, not at such close range.’
‘What are you saying?’ Zamora asked.
‘That Conley purposefully didn’t shoot to kill,’ Ethan said. ‘For whatever reason he didn’t want to kill Willis, and that means he either wanted something from him or he wanted to learn something.’
‘Willis could have grabbed the rifle and turned it aside before the shot was fired,’ Lopez said.
‘Maybe,’ Zamora replied. ‘But that rifle had a fourteen-inch bayonet on it. I wouldn’t have risked grabbing it.’
Ethan opened his door, letting hot air puff into the air-conditioned cruiser.
‘Thanks for the ride, Enrico. If you remember anything else, you’ve got our number.’
‘Sure,’ Zamora said. ‘There’s one other thing.’
‘What’s that?’
‘The last thing Tyler Willis said to me before I fired at Conley was the darndest thing I ever did hear. He said not to kill Conley because he was too old to die. You make any sense of that?’
Lopez looked at Ethan, who glanced again at the ranger.
‘Probably the sun got to him.’
Ethan shut his door before Zamora could answer.
8
‘Hell of a place,’ Lopez said.
Ethan nodded, looking around at the ranks of buildings and the names of the roads as he drove through the complex, which looked like an oversized industrial park. The 502 East Road had led them onto Trinity Drive, named after the famous atomic tests. Ethan had already spotted various signs such as Bikini Road, named after Bikini Atoll where further nuclear tests were made in the 1950s. Run by the Department of Energy and with an annual budget of $2.2 billion, it was one of only two places in the United States where research into classified nuclear programs was performed.
‘It’s the largest employer in northern New Mexico,’ Ethan said as he drove the Mercury into the parking lot outside the Bio-Science Division building. ‘Whatever Tyler Willis is up to in here, it almost certainly has something to do with Hiram Conley.’
Lopez nodded, scanning the file that Douglas Jarvis had handed them back in Chicago.
‘Tyler Adam Willis, born 1978, Modesto, California. Studied microbiology at the University of California before joining a research team at Los Alamos. Recently published several papers detailing the results of studies into senescence.’
‘In English, please,’ Ethan said as they parked.
‘Another term for aging,’ Lopez said. ‘Looks like our boy knows his stuff when it comes to cheating death. According to this he’s considered one of the brightest talents in the field of cellular senescence.’
Ethan killed the engine and looked up at the imposing building before them.
‘You really think that’s why he was shot?’ Ethan asked her. ‘Something to do with his research?’
‘Why not? Maybe this isn’t just a freaky ghost story and he found some kind of potion that extends lifespans.’
Ethan got out of the car and walked toward the entrance, followed by Lopez. A clean, sparse entrance hall greeted them, occupied by a narrow desk and a bored-looking receptionist. Ethan walked up to her, leaning against the counter and flashing a smile.
‘Hi, we’re here to see Tyler Willis.’
‘Do you have an appointment?’ the girl asked, taking in Ethan’s rough-edged appearance and apparently liking what she saw.
‘We’re here on behalf of the Santa Fe Police Department, Lieutenant Enrico Zamora,’ Ethan said smoothly. ‘Nothing to worry about: Tyler was injured in an incident a couple of days ago and we’re just here with some follow-up questions and to make sure he’s doing okay.’
The girl smiled again and picked up a phone, dialing an extension number. When she’d finished speaking and put the phone down, she directed them toward a nearby elevator.
‘Second floor, third on the right. Just call me if there’s anything else you need.’
‘I’ll be sure to do that.’
Ethan flashed another grin at the girl and followed Lopez into the elevator. She rounded on him as the door closed.
‘You ever been able to talk to a girl without hitting on her?’
Ethan stood with his hands behind his back, watching the numbers change on the digital display above the doors.
‘I was just being polite.’
‘Polite? You’d leaned any closer to her you’d have been dribbling into her blouse.’
Ethan looked down at Lopez in amusement. ‘What’s the problem?’
Lopez shrugged. ‘It’s just not professional, is all.’
‘Like breaking into strangers’ cars is?’
Lopez rolled her eyes but said nothing as the doors opened and they turned right into a corridor. Rows of pictures adorned the walls, bizarre, kaleidoscopic images of what looked like microscopic bugs and spores and fungi.
‘Welcome to geek heaven,’ Ethan said as they made for the third door on the right.
Lopez looked up at one of the grotesque images, portraying what looked like a slug with eight legs tucked up close to its head.
‘What the hell is that?’ she wondered out loud.
Ethan was about to hazard a guess when another voice answered for him.
‘Demodex folliculorum.’
They turned to see a young black man standing behind them with a cup of coffee in one hand and his other arm in a sling. He smiled from behind fashionable square-lensed spectacles with distinctive burgundy frames as though almost embarrassed, and gestured with his cup to the picture on the wall.
‘It’s a tiny mite, less than half a millimeter long.’
Ethan glanced at the picture. ‘The image is magnified.’
‘Yes. The demodicids just look like worms with legs that are tiny stumps.’
‘Is it dangerous?’ Lopez asked curiously.
‘Not at all,’ Willis said. ‘You’ve probably got a few hundred of them on you right now. They live in the pores and hair follicles on your face, and often in the roots of your eyelashes. Women get more of them because of the cosmetics they use. Those little critters just love the chemicals.’