Hillerman, Tony - [Leaphorn & Chee 13] (18 page)

ACTING LIEUTENANT JIM CHEE reached Yells Back Butte early and well prepared.
He climbed the saddle while the light of dawn was just brightening the sky over
Black Mesa, carrying his binoculars, an eagle cage, his lunch, a canteen of
water, a quart thermos of coffee, a rabbit and his rifle. He found the tilted
slab of rimrock just where Jano said it would be, straightened out the
disordered brush that formed the blind's roof. He took out his medicine bag and
removed from the doeskin pouch the polished stone replica of a badger, which
Frank Sam Nakai had given him as his hunting fetish, and an aspirin bottle,
which held pollen. He put the fetish in his right hand and sprinkled a pinch of
pollen over it. Then he faced the east and waited. Just as the rim of the sun appeared,
he sang his morning song and sprinkled an offering of pollen from the bottle.
That done, he shifted into the hunting chant, telling the eagle of his respect
for it, asking it to come and join in this sacrifice that would send it into
its next life with his blessing and, perhaps, save the life of the Hopi whose
arm it had slashed.

Then he climbed down into the blind. By 10:00 A.M. he had watched two eagles
patrolling the rim of the butte to the west of his position, neither the one he
wanted. He'd found the feather he'd left behind on his original visit to the
blind, retrieved it, wrapped it in his handkerchief and laid it aside. He'd
consumed about fifty percent of his coffee and the apple from his lunch sack,
and read two more chapters of
Execution Eve
, the Bill Buchanan book
he'd brought along to pass the time. At 10:23, the eagle he wanted showed up.

It came from the east, drifting over Black Mesa in lazy circles that brought
it nearer and nearer. Through gaps in the blind's brush roofing, Chee followed
it through the binoculars, confirming the irregularity in its fan of tail
feathers. He lifted the struggling rabbit out of the eagle cage, made sure the
nylon cord on its leg was secure and waited until the bird's hunting circle was
taking it away. Then he put the rabbit on the roof, squirmed into his best
watching position and waited.

On its next circle it swept southward, lost altitude and patrolled over the
rolling sagebrush desert away from the butte, disappearing from Chee's view. He
put the rifle in a handier place and waited, tense. A moment later, the eagle
reappeared, rising on an updraft just a few yards above the rim of the butte
and not fifty yards from the blind, then soared above him to the left.

The rabbit had long since given up its struggles and sat motionless on the
roof. Chee stirred the brush supporting it with the rifle barrel. Startled, it
scrambled to the end of the cord, jerked at it, sat again. The eagle turned,
tightened its circle directly overhead. Chee jerked the cord, provoking a fresh
flurry of struggles.

And then the eagle produced a raucous whistle and swept down.

Chee pulled the rabbit back toward the center of the blind. As he did, the
eagle struck it with a crash, blanking out the sky with extended wings. Chee tugged
at the cord, pulling against the thrust of beating wings, reaching for the
eagle's legs.

He was lucky. When it struck, the eagle had locked both sets of talons, one
through the rabbit's back, the other on its head. Chee grabbed both legs and
brought bird, rabbit and much of the brush roof falling down on him. He dragged
his jacket over the eagle, folded it over head and wings and inspected the
bird's legs. He saw fresh blood on its talons. At the base of the ruff feathers
on its left leg, he found something black and brittle. Dried blood. Old rabbit
blood, perhaps. Or Jano's. The lab would decide. Either way, Chee could rest
now.

He pushed bird, rabbit and jacket into the eagle cage and secured the door.
Then he leaned back against the stone, poured himself the last of the coffee,
and inspected the damage to himself. It was minimal—just a single cut across
the side of his left hand, where the eagle's beak had caught him.

The eagle extricated itself from his jacket, unlocked its talons from the
rabbit, and battled frantically against the stiff metal wires that formed the
cage.

"First Eagle," Chee said. "Be calm. Be peaceful. I will treat
you with respect." The eagle stopped its struggles and fixed Chee with an
unblinking stare. "You will go where all eagles go," Chee said, but
he was sad when he said it.

Back at the Tuba City police station, Chee parked in the shade. He brought
the eagle cage in and put it beside Claire Dineyahze's desk.

"Wow," Claire said. "He looks mean enough. What's he charged
with?"

"Resisting arrest and biting a cop," Chee said, displaying the cut
on his hand.

"Ugh. You ought to put some disinfectant on that."

"I will," Chee said. "But first I've got to report this
capture to the Federal Bureau of Ineptitude in Phoenix. Could you get 'em for
me?"

"Sure." She started dialing. "On line three." He picked
up the telephone on the adjoining desk. The receptionist at the FBI office said
that Agent Reynald was busy and would he leave a message.

"Tell him it concerns the Benjamin Kinsman case," Chee said.
"Tell him it's important." He waited. "Yes," the next voice
said. "This is Reynald."

"Jim Chee," Chee said. "I want to tell you we have the other
eagle in the Jano case."

"Who?"

"Jano," Chee said. "The Hopi who—"

"I know who Jano is," Reynald snapped. "I mean who is the person
I'm talking to."

"Jim Chee. Navajo Tribal Police."

"Oh, yes," Reynald said. "Now what's this about an eagle?"

"We caught him today. Where do you want him delivered for the blood
testing?"

"We already have the eagle," Reynald said. "Remember? The
arresting officer impounded it when he took the perp into custody. It tested
negative. No blood was on it."

"This is the other eagle," Chee said. Silence. "Other
eagle?"

"Remember?" Chee said, trying to include in the question the same
measure of impatience that Reynald had used when he'd asked it. "The
suspect's case will be based in part on his claim that the slash on his arm was
caused by a first eagle, which he then released," Chee said, reciting it
at about the rate a teacher might read a difficult passage to a remedial class.
"Whereupon Jano claims he caught a second eagle, which he contends was the
bird the arresting officer impounded. He contends that the blood—"

"I know what he contends," Reynald said, and laughed. "I
didn't dream you guys—or anybody, for that matter—was taking that
seriously."

While Reynald was enjoying his laugh, Chee signaled Claire to listen and to
flick on the recording machine.

"Serious or not," Chee said, "we have the eagle now. When the
FBI lab checks it for human blood in the talon grooves or the leg ruff
feathers, it's either there or it isn't. That takes care of that."

Reynald chuckled. "I can't believe this," he said. "You mean
you fellas actually went out and caught yourself a bird to run through the lab?
What's that supposed to prove? The lab finds nothing, so you keep catching
eagles until you run out of them, and then you tell the jury Jano must have
made it up."

"On the other hand, if Jano's blood—" But Reynald was laughing.
"And then the defense attorney will say you missed the one he released.
Or, better still, the defense catches one for itself, and they put some of
Jano's blood on it and present it as evidence."

"Okay," Chee said. "But I want to be clear about this. How
does the Federal Bureau of Investigation want me to dispose of this eagle I
have here?"

"Whatever you like," Reynald said. "Just don't dump it on me.
I'm allergic to feathers."

"All right then, Agent Reynald," Chee said. "It's been a
pleasure working with you."

"Just a second," Reynald said. "What I want you to do with
that bird is get rid of it. All it can possibly do is complicate this case, and
we don't want it complicated. You understand? Get rid of the damned
thing."

"I understand," Chee said. "You're telling me to get rid of
the eagle."

"And get to work on what you're supposed to be doing. Are you making
any progress finding witnesses who can testify that Jano wanted some revenge on
Kinsman? People who can swear he was angry about that original arrest?"

"Not yet," Chee said. "I've been busy trying to catch that
first eagle."

That out of the way, Chee called the federal public defender's office and
asked for Janet Pete. She was in. "Janet, we have the first eagle."

"Really?" She sounded incredulous.

"At least I'm almost certain it's the right one. A couple of its tail
feathers are missing, which matches what Jano told us."

"But how did you get it?"

"The same way Jano did. Used the same blind, in fact. Only the decoy
rabbit was different."

"Has it gone to the lab yet? When will we know what they find?"

"It hasn't gone to the lab. Reynald didn't want it."

"He what? He said that? When?"

"I called him just a little while ago. He said what it boiled down to
was nobody would believe Jano's story and if we dignified it by checking another
eagle for his blood, you'd just say we'd caught the wrong eagle and want us to
go out and keep catching them. And so forth."

"The sonofabitch," Janet said. There was silence while she thought
about it, "But I guess I can see his logic. A negative find wouldn't help
his case. Finding Jano's blood on that bird might hurt it. So it would be
either no help or a loss for him."

"Unless he wanted justice."

"Well, I don't think he has any doubt Jano killed Kinsman. You don't,
do you?"

"I didn't."

"You do now? Really?"

"I want to know if he's telling the truth."

"You may have to let a jury decide."

"Janet, twist Reynald's arm. Tell him you insist on it Tell him if he
won't have the tests done you'll petition the court to order it."

Long silence. "Who caught the eagle? How many people know it's
caught?"

"I caught it," Chee said. "Claire Dineyahze has it sitting
beside her desk right now. That's it."

"Was there dried blood on the feathers? Anywhere else?"

"Not that I could be sure of," Chee said. "Something dried on
its feathers. Tell the bastard if he won't order the lab work you'll get it
done yourself."

"Jim, it's not that simple."

"Why not?"

"A lot of reasons. In the first place, I won't even know about the eagle
until Reynald tells me. If he doesn't think it has any importance, he
won't."

"But there's the evidence disclosure rule. Mickey has to tell the
defense attorney what evidence he has."

"Not if it's not important enough for him to use. Mickey will say he
didn't even intend to mention the eagle in connection with the blood on
Kinsman. The defense can use it if it likes. He'll say he considers it too
foolish to require any response."

"All that's probably right. So you tell him that you know the eagle was
caught, tell him—"

"And he says, How do you know this? Who told you?"

"And you say a confidential informant."

"Come on, Jim," Janet said impatiently. "Don't sound naive.
The federal criminal justice world is small and the acoustics are good. How
long do you think it took me to know that Mickey had been warning you about
leaking stuff to me? My confidential informant said she got it third-hand, but
she said Mickey called it 'pillow talk.' Did he?"

"That's what he called it. But do it anyway."

Chee listened while Janet outlined the sort of trouble this would cause for
Acting Lieutenant Jim Chee. True, he wasn't a federal employee, but the links
between the U.S. justice system and the Tribal Justice operations were strong,
close and often personal. And it meant a headache for her, too. She badly
wanted to win this case, at the very least to save Jano from the death penalty.
It was her first in this new job and she wanted it to be clean, neat and tidy,
not a messy affair with her looking like an inept loose cannon who didn't
understand the system. And so forth. And while he listened, Chee knew what he
had to do. And how to do it. And that the effects might change the direction of
his life.

"Tell you what," he said. "You tell Mickey that you have
access to a tape recording, with two credible witnesses to certify it's
genuine. Tell him that on this tape, the FBI agent whom Mr. Mickey put in
charge of the Jano case can be clearly heard ordering a policeman to get rid of
evidence that might be beneficial to the defense."

"My God!" Janet said. "That's not true, is it?"

"It's true."

"Did you tape a telephone call with Reynald? When you told him you had
the eagle? Surely he didn't give you permission to tape something like that. If
he didn't, that's a federal offense."

"I didn't ask him," Chee said. "I just taped it, with a
witness listening in."

"That's against the law. You could go to jail. You'll surely lose your
job."

"You're being naive now, Janet. You know how the FBI feels about bad
publicity."

"I won't have anything to do with this," Janet said.

"That's fair enough," Chee said. "And I want to be fair with
you, too. Here's what I'll have to do now. I'll get on the telephone and find
out how I can get the necessary laboratory work done. Maybe at the lab at
Northern Arizona University or Arizona State. I have to be here at the office
until noon tomorrow. I'll check with you then—or you can call me here—so I'll
know what's going on. Then I'll take the bird on to the lab and I'll have them
send you a copy of their report."

"No, Jim. No. They'll charge you with evidence tampering. They'll think
of something. You're being crazy."

"Or maybe just stubborn," Chee said. "Anyway, give me a call
tomorrow."

Then he sat back and thought about it. Had he been bluffing? No, he'd do it if
he had to. Leaphorn's lady friend would know someone on the NAU biology faculty
who could run the tests—and do it right so it would hold water in court. And if
they found it wasn't Jano's blood, then maybe Jano was just a damn liar.