"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 h.e.l.l 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 B B1222 would come after B 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 advertis.e.m.e.nt 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?"

"I don't know," Leaphorn said. "I'm going on out there now and see if I can find a bunker with that number on it. And I thought Jim or you might want to check on it."

"You bet," Bernie said. "And by the way, Mr. Denton called for you here. He said he needed to find you as soon as he could. He said it was urgent. He wanted you to call him."

"Did he say why?"

"I asked. He wouldn't tell me."

Mrs. Mendoza answered the telephone at the Denton home, confirmed that Mr. Denton wanted to talk to him, and put him through.

"Leaphorn," Denton said. "Are you still in Gallup? Come on out to the house. I've got something I have to tell you. Something important."

"I don't work for you anymore, Mr. Denton," Leaphorn said. "In fact, I never did work for you."

"To h.e.l.l with that," Denton said. "This is something you really need to know."

"Then tell me."

"Not on the d.a.m.ned telephone. I think the FBI has had this line tapped because of the Doherty case. They think I'm involved in that. Come on out."

"I learned in all these years as a cop that when somebody has something important to tell me, it turns out to be a lot more important to them than it is to me."

Silence. Then Denton said, "Meet me halfway then. Where are you?"

Leaphorn considered that. "All right," he said. "In fifteen minutes from now I'll pull into the parking lot at the Smith grocery on Railroad Avenue. You remember my pickup truck?"

"I do," Denton said. "I'll be there."

And there he was, sitting in his big, mud-splattered off-road sports utility vehicle watching as Leaphorn made his turn into the lot, getting out and walking over as Leaphorn parked, leaning in the pa.s.senger's-side window.

"Let's take your truck," he said.

"Take it where?" Leaphorn asked.

"Someplace quiet where I can tell you my secret," Denton said while he opened the door and got in.

Leaphorn wasn't liking any of this. He had the uneasy feeling he'd miscalculated.

"We'll do our talking here," Leaphorn said.

"No," Denton said, shaking his head. "Let's get away from all these people."

"Just tell me this secret of yours," Leaphorn said. "Not that I guarantee I'll believe it."

"Part of the secret is I may have to kill you," Denton said, and he pressed what felt like the barrel of a pistol against Leaphorn's ribs.

27.

When dealing with federal agencies, Sergeant Jim Chee was always conscious of the "Navajo time" stereotype applied to the Dineh. Thus he showed up at the Gold Avenue address of the FBI ten minutes early. Bernie was in the entrance area talking to the receptionist as Chee pa.s.sed through the metal detector. She looked, as usual, slightly disheveled, as if some impossible breeze had invaded this guarded office, ruffled her hair, and moved the collar of her uniform shirt slightly out of its official alignment. With that notion of her thus confirmed by his glance, Chee's a.n.a.lysis and conclusions advanced to another level. Officer Bernadette Manuelito was a very bewitching young woman in a way he couldn't quite define. Certainly Bernadette's style was equal to (and far beyond) the perfect beauty of Janet Pete or the sensuous, soft, blonde charms of Mary Landon. With that established, and just as Bernie noticed his arrival and turned and recognized him with a smile, Sergeant Chee's consciousness took the great jump to the very top level. Face it. He had fallen in love with Officer Manuelito. And what the devil could he do about that?

Bernie's welcoming smile faded into a wry look.

"The meeting's been postponed," she said. "Something came up down at the Zuni Pueblo, and the Albuquerque Office supervisor came in, and now Osborne has to go down there with them."

Chee said: "Oh, well." Which wasn't what he would have said had he not been suddenly engulfed with a flood of thoughts about Bernadette Manuelito. "So what?" he added.

"And," Bernie added, "Lieutenant Leaphorn called for you here. He wanted to ask you the number that was on a card with Mr. Doherty's stuff."

"Number?" Chee said. "What number?"

"The number was D D2187," Bernie said. "Don't you remember? It was written on the back of a business card Doherty had, and n.o.body had any idea what it was about."

"Oh," Chee said. "I remember telling Leaphorn about it. I thought he might understand it. Has the Legendary Lieutenant now solved the number puzzle?"

"He thinks it's the army's munitions depot code number for one of the bunkers out at Fort Wingate," Bernie said. Chee was just standing there, staring at her with a strange look on his face but no sign of understanding.

"He thinks it might be near where those kids heard the wailing woman the night Mr. McKay was killed," Bernie said, wondering what was bothering Chee.

"Oh," Chee said. "He wanted me to call him? Where? I need to call him anyway about talking to Hostiin Peshlakai this morning. About what Peshlakai said."

"Maybe at Mr. Denton's place. He said he had to see Denton about something. But he also said he was going out to the fort to see what he could find out," Bernie said. "And what did Hostiin Peshlakai tell you?"

"It's complicated," Chee said. "Let's find Leaphorn first."

He called Denton's number. No, Mrs. Mendoza said, Leaphorn wasn't there and neither was Mr. Denton. "I heard them talking on the telephone. I think Mr. Denton drove down into Gallup to meet him somewhere."

"Let's go find Leaphorn at the fort," Chee said. "I'll tell you on the way out."

"You sound nervous," Bernie said.

"I am," Chee said. "From what Peshlakai told me, I think our Legendary Lieutenant is playing with fire."

28.

As he rolled his truck through the grocery parking lot toward the exit, Leaphorn was a.n.a.lyzing his situation. It didn't seem reasonable to believe that Wiley Denton actually intended to kill him. However, there was a lot of circ.u.mstantial evidence that suggested otherwise. For one thing, he had given Denton a motive. Louisa had warned him that Denton was dangerous. He'd already known that. And yet Leaphorn unloaded on the man the very evidence Denton had already killed one man-and probably two-to protect. He had poked Denton's two sorest spots-his obsession to claim the Golden Calf, legendary or not, and his desperate love of his missing wife.

At this tense moment, Leaphorn was doubting his judgment on several things, but not on that. Denton dearly loved the girl who had been willing to marry him. Leaphorn had been a fool for love himself, had been there and done that, would never ever forget Emma. He crept through the parking-lot traffic, giving right-of-way to everyone, thinking about tactics.

"Move along," Denton said, pushing the pistol against Leaphorn's side. "Do a left turn out on Railroad Avenue."

"You were going to tell me something I needed to know," Leaphorn said. "Remember? Called it a secret. That's how you got me to meet you."

"We'll get to that when we get where we have some privacy."

"Give me a hint," Leaphorn said. "Tell me what McKay told you about his back-up plan. No use to keep lying, is there?"

Denton snorted. "You're not going to believe this, either."

"Probably not," Leaphorn said. "Why not try me?" He stopped again and waved ahead a blue Chevy that was waiting for him to pa.s.s.

"All right," Denton said. "McKay said he had a love affair started with Linda, but she didn't want to leave me. So he made this bet with her. He took her to a little hut way back in the Zuni Mountains. Took her shoes away from her, and said he was going back to see me and tell me I could have her back along with his Golden Calf map for fifty thousand dollars."

The Chevy drove past. The pickup behind Leaphorn honked.

"What else did he say?"

"He said he bet her I wouldn't pay to get her back."

The pickup honked again. Leaphorn eased his truck forward.

"What'd you say to that?"

Denton's laugh had a bitter sound. "Just like the court records show. Marvin McKay pulled out his pistol, and I shot the son of a b.i.t.c.h."

Leaphorn was heading for the exit now, a bit above the legal pace. "Didn't you believe him?"

"Of course not," Denton said.

"How about now?"

"Well, maybe some of it. Do a left on Railroad."

Leaphorn jammed down on the accelerator and made a tire-squealing right turn into a gap in the traffic. He felt the pistol barrel jamming into his ribs.

"Left," Denton said. "We're going the wrong way."

"We're going the right way," Leaphorn said. "And I don't think you're going to shoot me because I think you still want me to find Linda for you."

"Fat chance of that." Denton said. But the pistol moved away from Leaphorn's ribs. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, I think I know where she is, and I want to go there and find out. But first, I've got to make a telephone call."

Denton laughed. "Oh, come on, Leaphorn. You've been calling me a liar, but you never called me stupid before."

"I call Lorenzo Perez; he calls the security man at Fort Wingate and tells him we've got business out in the bunker area and to let us in."

"Fort Wingate?" Denton said. "You said McKay was there the day I shot him, and he had a woman in his car. Right?"

Leaphorn nodded.

"Who's this Perez?"

"Former undersheriff. Knows people at the fort. Hand me the cellphone out of the glovebox."

Denton got out the cellphone, inspected it, said: "What's the number for Perez?"

Leaphorn told him.

"You know how it sounds when you c.o.c.k a pistol?"

"Sure."

"Then listen to this." The click of a pistol being c.o.c.ked followed. "The pistol is a forty-five caliber. You know what that does to somebody. If you say anything to Perez that sounds suspicious to me, then I shoot you, turn off the ignition, grab the wheel, pull your truck off the road, wipe everything down for my fingerprints, leave the gun on the floor. No prints on it and none on the rounds in the magazine. There'll be not a drop of blood on me. I just open the door and step out and walk away."

"You won't have to bother with a self-defense plea this time, then," Leaphorn said.

"Right," said Denton. He pushed the speaker volume to the top, dialed the number, listened for a second to the voice that answered, then handed it to Leaphorn.

"Lorenzo, this is Joe Leaphorn. Can I get you to call security out at Fort Wingate and ask them to let me in? Just tell 'em I'm working on something with you."