'Art and h.o.m.os.e.xuals on the plains of West Texas. Is life funny or what?'

'Or what.'

The mayor looked around, leaned in, and lowered his voice.

'These h.o.m.os.e.xuals, they're the best thing to ever happen to Marfa, even if they are abominations in the Lord's eyes.'

'Good of you to look past their human faults.'

'I'm a Christian man.'

'And a real-estate broker.'

'That, too.' He leaned back. 'Before the artists, don't believe we had a h.o.m.os.e.xual in town ... well, there was the Johnson boy, everyone wondered about him. But he moved over to Alpine. They got a university there.'

As if that explained the Johnson boy's change of venue.

'During the Chinati Open House in October, we'll have more h.o.m.os.e.xuals per square foot in Marfa than in San Francisco'-Nadine gave Book an 'I told you so' look-'and most of them are Jewish to boot. Got me to thinking about a motto for Marfa, you know, like "Muslims to Mecca."'

'That's Mecca's motto?'

The mayor had the look of a man about to make a big announcement.

'"Jews to Judd." What do you think? Kinda catchy, ain't it?'

The mayor smiled proudly, as if he had just coined another 'What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas.' Nadine eyed the mayor as she had the Border Patrol agents that first day; Book hoped she would not express the same evaluation of the mayor.

'Jews to Judd? Are you a dope?'

'I'm the mayor.' He turned his hands up as if innocent. 'I figured we could run an ad in the New York Times.'

Book shook his head. 'I wouldn't go there, Mayor.'

The mayor seemed perplexed. But he quickly shook it off and continued with his sales pitch.

'Anyway, we got the largest hydroponic tomato farm in the world, they produce twenty million pounds of tomatoes every year.'

'Lot of tomatoes.'

'd.a.m.n straight it is. We got that El Cosmico hippie campground. I heard tell folks smoke dope out there.'

'You're kidding?'

'Nope. And we're fixin' to have an art-house drive-in movie theater, designed by the same architects that designed the Museum of Modern Art in New York.'

'You need a Starbucks,' Nadine said.

'We got a Frama's.'

'Coffee shop?'

'Yep.'

'Fresh ground beans?'

'Yep.'

'Real cream?'

'Yep.'

'Where?'

'Block west of the Paisano.'

'I'm there.'

'How much coffee do you drink?' Book asked his intern.

'As much as I can.'

The mayor pressed on. 'Press calls us "Santa Fe South" and "Marfa's Vineyard."'

'Is that a compliment?'

'Yankees like the sound of it. And it brings the celebrities to town. Robert Redford was just here-'

'We heard.'

'-and Michael Nesmith performed here last year.'

'Who's he?' Nadine asked.

'The Monkees.'

'He's a monkey?'

'The Monkees. TV show about a band back in the late sixties.'

'I wasn't born until the late eighties. Is he dead, too?'

'He wasn't when he sang here.'

'We heard there's some conflict between the newcomers and the old-timers?' Book said.

'Sounds like you've been talking to Sam Walker?'

'We have.'

'He tell you about the Triple As?'

'He did.'

'Well, those attorneys, artists, and a.s.sholes brought a lot of money to Marfa. See, I want this town to grow. Sam wants to write about the dying West. Sometimes I think he'll only be happy when he's the last person left in town to read his paper.' He shook his head. 'Sam, he's ... he's just not a big thinker.'

'Like you?'

The mayor turned his palms up and offered a 'What can I say?' expression. 'Marketing the art, that was my idea.'

'And "Jews to Judd,"' Nadine said.

'I'm trying to get folks interested in making a sequel to Giant, like they did with Dallas.'

'But all the stars are dead,' Nadine said.

'That is an obstacle. I was thinking, maybe we could pick up the story after Bick and Jett are dead. Remember at the end they showed Bick's two grandsons, one was Anglo, the other Mexican? Hollywood loves that multicultural angle. We could even make one of them a h.o.m.os.e.xual. I was hoping the Quaid boy could star in it, but he had to leave town pretty fast, to escape those a.s.sa.s.sins.'

'We heard.'

'h.e.l.l of a deal, Hollywood a.s.sa.s.sins running around Marfa.'

'So Sam says there's conflict in town ... other than a.s.sa.s.sins after old movie stars.'

'Oh, there's a little friction, is all.'

'Friction?'

The mayor nodded. 'Friction. When you've lived your life a certain way among similar people for fifty, sixty years, then new folks come to town who live a different way, they rub each other the wrong way, creates a little friction. Nothing to fret about ... long as it don't slow down the real-estate market.'

'We wouldn't want that.'

'Nope.'

'Well, glad things are going well in Marfa, Mayor.'

The mayor regarded Book a moment. His civic booster expression turned serious.

'We got a good thing going, Professor. Don't screw it up for us.'

'And how would I do that?'

'Acting like we got a murder mystery in Marfa.'

Book unfolded the funeral photo on the table. He could not find the mayor's face among the funeral guests.

'You didn't go to Nathan Jones's funeral?'

'I didn't know him. When they said Billy Bob's lawyer was killed in a car wreck, I said, "Who?" Which is odd since I make it a point to know every voter in town. Can I see it?'

'What?'

'The letter.'

'You know about the letter?'

'h.e.l.l, Professor, everyone in town knows about the letter. You been showing it off like it's a war medal.'

Nadine nodded in agreement. Book handed Nathan's letter to the mayor. He read it and then exhaled.

'You see his proof?'

'Not yet.'

'You've been in town, what, three days, and you haven't seen his proof?'

'No.'

'Maybe there is no proof. You think about that?'

'I have.'

'Heard you met Billy Bob this morning.'

'We did.'

'He do a yell for you?'

'He did.'

'I wish he hadn't,' Nadine said.

'Didn't he tell you fracking was safe?'

'He did.'

'He show you that fracking video?'

'He did.'

'Then what's the problem?'

'In my experience, Mayor, when there's money at stake, people tend to slant their testimony.'

'You saying Billy Bob's a liar?'

'I'm saying there are two sides to every story.'

'And you're getting the other side from Carla?'