"Hell," Denton said. "That doesn't make much sense, does it? Why would I give a damn if he talked about it? People been talking about finding the Golden Calf for a hundred years. More than that. And nobody would believe them. Why would they believe a con artist? And why would I care anyway?"
"Because at the end of the month, an option you have with Elrod Land and Cattle to buy that land at the head of Coyote Canyon goes into effect," Leaphorn said. "If the word gets out before then, the deal can be canceled."
Denton's swivel chair creaked as he leaned back in it, studying Leaphorn. His hands were out of sight, under the table. Then the left one reappeared. He rubbed the crooked hump of his broken nose. Made a wry face.
"Where'd you hear that?"
"It's public record," Leaphorn said. "The contract's tied in with the Bureau of Land Management lease."
"So what," Denton said. "What if you're guessing right? So you think that gives me a motive for murder. Hell, man, I've already been to court on this thing. Found guilty of killing McKay. Already served my time in prison. You know the law. It's over with. No double jeopardy. And what's any of this have to do with finding Linda? That's what you're supposed to be doing."
"That brings us to one of your deceptions that has a lot to do with finding Linda. Let's see if you'll tell the truth about that."
Denton produced a hostile grin. "It's deception now, is it, instead of lie? Well, go ahead. Let's hear it."
"Before McKay came out here that evening he called his wife. Told her he was bringing you your map and all that. He said that from the questions you'd been asking him, he thought you might be planning to cheat him. Take the map and his information and not give him the fifty thousand. He said in case that happened, he had a back-up plan, insurance, something to make you pay."
"She told you that, did she?"
"She did, and with nothing to gain from lying about it.
"What was this insurance? This back-up plan?"
"You tell me," Leaphorn said. "McKay didn't tell her what he had in mind. So now you tell me what he said. It might help us find your wife."
Denton said nothing. He looked away from Leaphorn, at the window. When he looked back, the bravado had slipped away. He shook his head.
"I don't know."
"Come on, Denton, stop wasting our time," Leaphorn said. "You know now Linda must have been in McKay's car out at Fort Wingate that afternoon. That would have been just before he came here. Just before he called his own wife and told her about his 'insurance.' Why not quit kidding yourself?"
Denton had lowered his head into his hands, and was shaking it back and forth. He didn't look up. "Shut up," he said. "Shut up, damn you, and get out of here. And don't ever come back."
Chapter Twenty-Six
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Lorenzo perez was in his front yard holding a garden hose with a high-pressure nozzle when Leaphorn drove up—and was doing what seemed eccentric to Leaphorn.
"Watering your rosebush?" he asked. "Looks like you're trying to knock the leaves off."
"No," said Perez, "I'm trying to get rid of the damned aphids."
"They don't like water?"
Perez laughed. "You try to knock them off the stems," Perez said. "It's better than using poison. That kills the ladybugs, and the birds, and all your other helpers. If you can knock the aphids off with the water, they can't climb back up again." He turned off the hose. "But it's a lost cause anyway, trying to grow roses in Gallup. Wrong climate."
"I need a favor, if you have time."
"When you catch me out squirting water on aphids, you know I'm not terrible busy."
"I'm still on that wailing woman business out at the fort," Leaphorn said. "I wanted to see if you could give me a clearer picture of just where those kids were when they heard it, and from which direction they said the sounds were coming."
"You mean go on out there and sort of try to re-create it for you?"
"That's what I had in mind. And maybe see if we could get Gracella Garcia to come along."
"I guess we could handle that. When you want to do it?"
"How about right now?"
"I can't do it today," Perez said. "You in a hurry?"
"Sort of," said Leaphorn. "But I guess it could wait."
"I could pretty well tell you just where it was, if you're in a rush," said Perez as he walked over to his fence. "You know they have those bunkers blocked off? Well, they were—"
"Well, no, I don't. I never had very much business out there, and when I did I wasn't paying that sort of attention."
"You know the military, though," Perez said. "The army divided all those bunkers off into ten blocks, and lettered the blocks from A to J, and then numbered the bunkers. Like, for example, B1028."
"Divided them off by what they had in them?" Leaphorn asked.
"God knows." Perez said. "I think they did it during the Vietnam War when they added some new ones. They were running virtually all the munitions and explosive stuff through Wingate then. Busy, busy. Artillery shells, rockets, mines, everything. Big boom for Gallup. New rail lines had to be built, everything." Perez laughed. "They even built concrete shelters every so often so people working could run in them for shelter in case lightning might strike something and blow things up."
Leaphorn had stopped paying close attention to the rest of this report after Perez cited the bunker-labeling system.
"Each bunker had its own number?"
"Letter and number."
"How many bunkers in each block?"
"I don't know. They used ten letters, A through J, and there's about eight hundred bunkers, so I'd guess a hundred to a block, but maybe they lettered 'em by what's stored inside. Like 'A' for artillery, and 'B' for bombs, and—" Perez paused, unable to think of anything that exploded that started with a "C."
"These days, 'E' for empty would be the letter they'd need for most of the blocks. Anyway, the army rule was no bunker could be closer than two hundred yards to another one, and they used about twenty-four-thousand acres scattering them out. Had to build a hell of a lot of railroad track."
"How about the numbers?" Leaphorn asked. "I noticed some of them had four numbers after the letter."
Perez frowned. "I think maybe all of them did," he said. "No idea why, except they seemed to be in order. Like B1222 would come after B1221."
"What block were the kids in?"
"I think it was 'D,'" Perez said. "Or maybe 'C.'"
"I'm going on out there and look around," Leaphorn said. "If I learn anything, I'll call you."
But now Leaphorn found he couldn't remember the number on the card with Doherty's stuff. He was sure it began with a D, but his usually fine memory had jumbled together Peshlakai's cellphone number, Denton's unlisted number, his advertisement number, and Doherty's four digits. But he did remember telling the number to Chee, and Chee jotting it into his notebook.
Chee was probably still in Gallup. Leaphorn called the fbi office there. Chee wasn't there, but Bernie was. She said Chee would be in any minute for a meeting with Osborne. Did he want to leave a message?
"I wanted to ask him if he had that number found on the back of that business card in Doherty's stuff. I remember he wrote it down."
"It was a 'D' followed by 2187," she said. "Have you found out what it's about?"
"It's probably the number of a bunker out at Fort Wingate," Leaphorn said, thinking how great it had been when he, too, had had such a young and vigorous memory. He explained as much as he knew of the army's blocking system.
"Something to do with the old McKay homicide, you think? Something to do with that wailing woman business?"