Hillerman, Tony - [Leaphorn & Chee 03] by Listening Woman [txt] Read Free Book Online

mile, up the road to Short Mountain. The voice emerged from the tape player on the seat beside him, hesitating, hurrying, sometimes stumbling, and sometimes repeating itself. Leaphorn listened, his eyes intent on the stony road but his thoughts focused on the words that came from the speaker. Now and then he slowed the carryall, stopped the tape, reversed it, and repeated a passage. One section he replayed three times -comhearing the bored voice of Feeney asking: “Did Tso tell you anything else? Did he say anything about anyone being mad at him, having a grudge? Anything like that?”
    And then the voice of Listening Woman: “He thought maybe it could be the ghost of his great-grandfather. That’s because …” Mrs. Cigaret’s voice trailed off as she searched for English words to explain Navajo metaphysics. “That’s because Hosteen Tso, he made a promise …”
    “Made a promise to his great-grandfather? That would have been a long time ago.” Feeney didn’t sound interested. “I think it was something they did with the oldest sons,” Mrs. Cigaret said.
    “So Hosteen Tso would have made the promise to his own father, and Hosteen Tso’s father made it to his father, and—was
    “Okay,” Feeney said. “What was the promise?”
    “Taking care of some sort of secret,” Mrs. Cigaret said. “Keeping something safe.”
    “Like what?”
    “A secret, ” Mrs. Cigaret said. “He didn’t tell me the secret.” Her tone suggested that she wouldn’t have been improper enough to ask. “Did he say anything about getting any threats from anyone? Have any quarrels? Did he—was Leaphorn grimaced, and pushed the fast forward button. Why hadn’t Feeney pursued this line of questioning? Because, obviously, the FBI agent didn’t want to waste time on the talk of great-grandfather ghosts during a murder investigation. But it was equally obvious, at least to Leaphorn, that Mrs. Cigaret considered it worth talking about. The tape rushed squawking through ten minutes of questions and answers probing into what Mrs. Cigaret had been told about Tso’s relationship with neighbors and relatives.
    Leaphorn stopped it again at a point near the end of the interview.
    He pushed the play button. his … said it hurt him here in the chest a lot,” Mrs. Cigaret was saying. “And sometimes it hurt him in the side. And his eyes, they hurt him, too. Back in the head behind the eyes. It started hurting him right after he found out that somebody had walked across some sand paintings and they stepped right on Corn Beetle, and Talking God, and Gila Monster, and Water Monster. And that same day, he was climbing and he knocked a bunch of rocks down and they killed a frog. And the frog was why his eyes—was Feeney’s voice cut in. “But you’re sure he didn’t say anything about anybody doing anything to hurt him? You’re sure of that? He didn’t blame it on any witch out there?”
    “No,” Mrs. Cigaret said. Was there a hesitation? Leaphorn ran it past again. Yes. A hesitation. “Okay,” Feeney said. “Now, did he say anything just before you left him and went over by the cliff?”
    “I don’t remember much,” Mrs. Cigaret said.
    “I told him he ought to get somebody to take him to Gallup and get his chest it-rayed because maybe he had one of those sicknesses that white people cure. And he said he’d get somebody to write to his grandson to take care of everything, and then I said I’d go and listen and find out what was making his eyes hurt and what else was wrong with him and—was Here the voice of Feeney cut in again, its tone tinged slightly with impatience. “Did he say anything about anyone stealing anything from him? Anything about fighting with relatives or—was Leaphorn punched the off button, and guided the carryall around an outcrop of stone and over the edge of the steep switchback that dropped into Manki Canyon. He wished, as he had wished before, that Feeney hadn’t been so quick to interrupt Mrs.