thillerman.theblessingway-第3章

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　Mrs。　Kreutzer　was　looking　at　him　reproachfully；　knowing　what　he　was　thinking；　and　not　liking　his　tone。　McKee　felt　a　twinge　of　remorse。
　〃She　seemed　nice；〃　Mrs。　Kreutzer　said。　〃I'd　think　you'd　want　to　help　her。〃
　〃I'll　do　what　I　can；〃　he　said。
　〃Jeremy　told　me　you　were　going　to　the　reservation　with　him　this　summer；〃　Mrs。　Kreutzer　said。　〃I　think　that's　nice。〃
　〃It's　not　definite；〃　McKee　said。　〃I　may　have　to　take　a　summer…session　course。〃
　〃Let　somebody　else　teach　this　summer；〃　Mrs。　Kreutzer　said。　She　looked　at　him　over　her　glasses。　〃You're　getting　pale。〃
　McKee　knew　he　was　not　getting　pale。　His　face；　at　the　moment；　was　peeling　from　sunburn。　But　he　also　knew　that　Mrs。　Kreutzer　was　speaking　allegorically。　He　had　once　heard　her　give　a　Nigerian　graduate　student　the　same　warning；　and　when　the　student　had　asked　him　what　Mrs。　Kreutzer　could　possibly　have　meant　by　it；　McKee　had　explained　that　it　meant　she　was　worrying　about　him。
　〃You　ought　to　tell　them　to　go　to　hell；〃　Mrs。　Kreutzer　said；　and　the　vehemence　surprised　McKee　as　much　as　the　language。　〃Everybody　imposes　on　you。〃
　〃Not　really；〃　McKee　said。　〃Anyway；　I　don't　mind。〃
　But　as　he　walked　down　the　hall　toward　his　office　he　did　mind；　at　least　a　little。　George　Everett　had　asked　him　to　take　his　classes　this　summer；　because　Everett　had　an　offer　to　handle　an　excavation　in　Guatemala；　and　it　irritated　McKee　now　to　remember　how　sure　Everett　had　been　that　good　old　Bergen　would　do　him　the　favor。　And　he　minded　a　little　being　the　continuing　object　of　Mrs。　Kreutzer's　pity。　The　cuckold　needs　no　reminder　of　his　horns　and　the　reject　no　reminder　of　his　failure。
　He　took　the　Law　and　Order　envelope　from　his　pocket　and　looked　at　it；　neglecting　his　habitual　glance　through　the　hallway　window　at　the　chipping　plaster　on　the　rear　of　the　Alumni　Chapel。　Instead　he　thought　of　how　it　had　been　to　be　twenty…seven　years　old　in　search　of　truth　on　the　Navajo　Reservation；　still　excited　and　innocent；　still　optimistic；　not　yet　taught　that　he　was　less　than　a　man。　He　couldn't　quite　recapture　the　feeling。
　It　wasn't　until　he　had　opened　the　blinds；　turned　on　the　air　conditioner　and　registered　the　familiar　creak　of　his　swivel　chair　as　he　lowered　his　weight　into　it　that　he　opened　the　letter。
　　　
　Dear　Berg：
　I　asked　around　some　in　re　your　inquiry　about　witchcraft　cases　and　it　looks　only　moderately　promising。　There's　been　some　gossip　down　around　the　No　Agua　Wash〃　country；　and　an　incident　or　two　over　in　the　Lukachukais　east　of　Chinle；　and　some　talk　of　trouble　west　of　the　Colorado　River　gorge　up　on　the　Utah　border。　None　of　it　sounds　very　threatening　or　unusual…if　that's　what　you're　looking　for。　I　gather　the　No　Agua　business　involves　trouble　between　two　outfits　in　the　Salt　Cedar　Clan　over　some　grazing　land。　The　business　up　in　Utah　seems　to　center　on　an　old　Singer　with　a　bad　reputation；　and　our　people　in　the　Chinle　subagency　tell　me　that　they　don't　know　what's　going　on　yet　in　the　Lukachukai　area。　The　story　they　get　（about　fourth…hand）　is　that　there's　a　cave　of　Navajo　Wolves　somewhere　back　in　that　west　slope　canyon　country。　The　witches　are　supposed　to　be　ing　around　the　summer　hogans　up　there；　abusing　the　animals　and　the　usual。　And；　as　usual；　the　stories　vary　depending　on　which　rumor　you　hear。
　The　first　two　look　like　they　fit　the　theories　expressed　in　Social　and　Psychotherapeutic　Utility　of　Navajo　Wolf　and　Frenzy　Superstitions；　but　you　should　know；　since　you　wrote　it。　I'm　not　sure　about　the　Lukachukai　business。　It　might　have　something　to　do　with　a　man　we're　looking　for　up　there。　Or　maybe　it's　a　real　genuine　Witch；　who　really　turns　himself　into　a　werewolf　and　wouldn't　that　knock　hell　out　of　you　scientific　types？
　There　were　two　more　paragraphs；　one　reporting　on　Leaphorn's　wife　and　family　and　a　mutual　friend　of　their　undergraduate　days　at　Arizona　State；　and　the　other　offering　help　if　McKee　decided　to　〃go　witch…hunting　this　summer。〃
　McKee　smiled。　Leaphorn　had　been　of　immense　help　in　his　original　research；　arranging　to　open　the　Law　and　Order　Division　files　to　him　and　helping　him　find　the　sort　of　people　he　had　to　see；　the　unacculturized　Indians　who　knew　about　witchcraft。　He　had　always　regretted　that　Leaphorn　wouldn't　pletely　buy　his　thesis…that　the　Wolf　superstition　was　a　simple　scapegoat　procedure；　giving　a　primitive　people　a　necessary　outlet　for　blame　in　times　of　trouble　and　frustration。
　He　leaned　back　in　the　chair；　rereading　the　letter　and　recalling　their　arguments…Leaphorn　insisting　that　there　was　a　basis　of　truth　in　the　Navajo　Origin　Myth；　that　some　people　did　deliberately　turn　antisocial；　away　from　the　golden　mean　of　nature；　deliberately　choose　the　unnatural；　and　therefore；　in　Navajo　belief；　the　evil　way。　McKee　remembered　with　pleasure　those　long　evenings　in　Leaphorn's　home；　Leaphorn　lapsing　into　Navajo　in　his　vehemence　and　Emma…a　bride　then…laughing　at　both　of　them　and　bringing　them　beer。　It　would　be　good　to　see　them　both　again；　but　the　letter　didn't　sound　promising。　He　needed　a　dozen　case　studies　for　the　new　book…enough　to　demonstrate　all　facets　of　his　theory。
　Jeremy　Canfield　walked　in　without　knocking。　〃I've　got　a　question　for　you；〃　he　said。　〃Where　do　you　look　on　the　Navajo　Reservation　for　an　electrical　engineer　testing　his　gadgets？〃
　He　extracted　a　pipe　from　his　coat　pocket　and　began　cleaning　debris　from　the　bowl　into　McKee's　ashtray。　〃Just　one　more　helpful　hint。　We　know　he　has　a　light…green　van　truck。　We　don't　know　what　kind　of　equipment　it　is；　but　this　research　needs　to　be　away　from　such　things　as　electrical　transmission　lines；　telephone　wires；　and　stuff　like　that。〃
　〃That　helps　a　lot；〃　McKee　said。　〃That　still　leaves　about　ninety　percent　of　the　Reservation…ninety　percent　of　twenty…five　thousand　square　miles。　Find　one　green　truck　in　a　landscape　bigger　than　all　New　England。〃
　〃It's　this　daughter　of　a　friend　of　mine。　Girl　named　Ellen　Leon；〃　Canfield　said。　〃She's　trying　to　find　this　bird　from　U。C。L。A。〃　He　was　a　very　small　man；　bent　slightly　by　a　spinal　deformity；　with　a　round；　cheerful　face　made　rounder　by　utter　baldness。
　〃Goddamn　flatlanders　never　know　geography。〃　Canfield　said。　〃Think　the　Reservation's　about　the　size　of　Central　Park。〃
　〃Why's　she　looking　for　him？〃　McKee　asked。
　Canfield　looked　pained。
　〃You　don't　ask　a　woman　something　like　that；　Berg。　Just　imagine　it's　something　romantic。　Imagine　she's　hot　for　his　body。〃　Canfield　lit　the　pipe。　〃Imagine　she　has　spurned　him；　he　has　gone　away　to　mend　a　broken　heart；　and　now　she　has　repented。〃
　Or；　McKee　thought；　imagine　she's　a　fool　like　me。　Imagine　she's　been　left　and　is　still　too　young　to　know　it's　hopeless。
　〃Anyway；　I　told　her　maybe　in　the　Chuska　Range；　or　the　Lukachukais　if　he　liked　the　mountains；　or　the　Kam　Bimghi　Valley　if　he　liked　the　desert；　or　up　there　north　of　the　Hopi　Villages；　or　a　couple　of　other　places。　I　marked　a　map　for　her　and　showed　her　where　the　trading　posts　were　where　he'd　be　likely　to　buy　his　supplies。〃
　〃Maybe　they're　married；〃　McKee　said。　He　was　interested；　which　surprised　him。
　〃Her　name's　Ellen　Leon；〃　Canfield　said　with　emphatic　patience。　〃His　is　Jimmie　W。　Hall；　Ph。D。　Besides；　no　wedding　ring。　From　which　I　deduce　they're　not　married。〃
　〃O。K。；　Sherlock；〃　McKee　said。　〃I　deduce　from　your　attitude　that　this　woman　was　about　five　feet　five；　slim；　with　long　blackish　hair　and　wearing。。。〃　McKee　paused　for　thought；　〃。。。　a　sort　of　funny…colored　suit。〃
　〃I　deduce　from　that　that　you　saw　her　in　the　hall；〃　Canfield　said。　〃Anyway；　I　told　her　we'd　keep　our　eyes　open　for　this　bird　and　let　her　know　where　we'd　be　camping　so　she　could　check。〃　He　looked　at　McKee。　〃Where　do　you　want　to　start　hunting　your　witches？〃
　McKee　started　to　mention　Leaphorn's　letter　and　say　he　hadn't　decided　yet　whether　to　go。　Instead　he　thought　of　the　girl　at　the　front　entrance　of　the　Anthropology　Building；　who　had　looked　tired　and　disappointed　and　somehow　very　sad。
　〃I　don't　know；〃　McKee　said。　〃Maybe　down　around　No　Agua；　or　way　over　west　of　the　Colorado　gorge；　or　on　the　west　slope　of　the　Lukies。〃　He　thought　a　moment。　Canfield's　current　project　involved　poking　into　the　burial　sites　of　the　Anasazis；　the　pre…Navajo　cliff　dwellers。　There　were　no　known　sites　around　No　Agua　and　only　a　few　in　the　Colorado　River　country。　〃How　about　starting　over　in　those　west　slope　canyons　in　the　Lukachukais？〃
　〃That's　good　for　me；〃　Canfield　said。　〃If　you've　got　some　witches　in　there　to　scrutinize；　there's　plenty　of　ruins　to　keep　me　busy。　And　I'll　take　my　guitar　and　try　to　teach　you　how　to　sing　harmony。〃
　At　the　door；　Canfield　paused；　his　face　suddenly　serious。
　〃I'm　glad　you　decided　to　go；　Bergen。　I　think　you　need。。。〃　He　stopped；　catching　himself　on　the　verge　of　invading　a　zone　of　private　grief。　〃I　think　maybe　I　should　ask　a　guarantee　that　your　witches　won't　get　me。〃　It　came　out　a　little　lamely；　not　hiding　the　embarrassment。
　〃My　Navajo　Wolves；　being　strictly　psychotherapeutic；　are　certified　harmless；〃　McKee　said。　He　pulled　open　a　desk　drawer；　rummaged　through　an　assortment　of　paper　clips；　carved　bones；　arrow　heads　and　potsherds；　and　extracted　an　egg…sized　turquoise　stone；　formed　roughly　in　the　shape　of　a　crouching　frog。　He　tossed　it　to　Canfield。
　〃Reed　Clan　totem；〃　McKee　said。　〃One　of　the　Holy　People。　Good　for　fending　off　corpse　powder。　No　self…respecting　Navajo　Wolf　will　bother　you。　I　guarantee　it。〃
　〃Ill　keep　it　with　me　always；〃　Canfield　said。
　The　words　would　e　back　to　McKee　later；　e　back　to　haunt　him。
　
　Chapter　4
　
　Bergen　McKee　had　spent　most　of　the　afternoon　in　the　canvas　chair　beside　the　front　door　in　Shoemaker's。　It　was　a　slow　day　for　trading　and　only　a　few　of　The　People　had　e　in。　But　McKee　had　collected　witchcraft　rumors　from　three　of　them；　and　had　managed　to　extract　the　names　of　two　Navajos　who　might　know　more　about　it。　It　was；　he　felt；　a　good　beginning。
　He　glanced　at　Leaphorn。　Joe　was　leaning　against　the　counter；　listening　patiently　to　another　of　the　endless　stories　of　Old　Man　Shoemaker；　and　McKee　felt　guilty。　Leaphorn　had　insisted　that　he　needed　to　go　to　the　trading　post…that　he　had；　in　fact；　delayed　the　call　to　take　McKee　along…but　more　likely　it　was　a　convenient　piece　of　made…work　to　do　a　friend　a　graceful　favor。
　〃There　is　a　young　man　back　in　there　we　want　to　pick　up；〃　Leaphorn　had　said。　He　pushed　a　file　folder　across　the　desk。　〃He　cut　a　Mexican　in　Gallup　last　month。〃
　The　file　concerned　someone　named　Luis　Horseman；　aged　twenty…two；　son　of　Annie　Horseman　of　the　Red　Forehead　Clan。　Married　to　Elsie　Tso；　daughter　of　Lilly　Tso　of　the　Many　Goats　Clan。
　Residence；　Sabito　Wash；　twenty…seven　miles　south　of　Klagetoh。　The　file　included　three　arrest　reports；　for　drunk　and　disorderly；　assault　and　battery；　and　driving　while　under　the　influence　of　narcotics。　The　last　entry　was　an　account　of　the　knifing　in　a　Gallup　bar　and　of　a　car　stolen　and　abandoned　after　the　knifing。
　〃What　makes　you　think　he's　over　in　the　Lukachukai　country？〃　McKee　had　asked。　〃Why　not　back　around　Klagetoh　with　his　wife？〃
　〃It　isn't　very　plicated；〃　Leaphorn　had　said。　Horseman　probably　thought　he　had　killed　the　Mexican　and　was　scared。　His　in…laws　detested　him。　Horseman　would　know　that　and　know　they　would　turn　him　in；　so　he　had　run　for　the　country　of　his　mother's　clan；　where　he　could　stay　hidden。
　〃How　the　devil　can　you　find　him；　then？〃　McKee　had　asked。　〃It　would