“I climbed it,” Ben said.
Strick looked over at him. “Not up those tent pegs you didn’t, they didn’t go high enough.”
“I climbed the other side.”
Strick smiled at him. “First you say you were running around out there naked, and now you say you climbed that butte, bare-handed and buck naked. Well, I tell you nobody without mountain-climbing gear could get up there. Isn’t that right, Les?”
“I couldn’t,” Les Stanton said.
“I did,” Ben said.
“All right, all right,” Hondurak said. “Now, Ben says he walked from the mountains over to the butte. Did you see any tracks of that, Strick?”
“Les says he thinks there’re some tracks, but they sure don’t look like tracks to me.”
“Les?” Hondurak asked.
“There are tracks,” Les said. “I can’t swear to what made ’em, they’re very indistinct. But if Ben was wearing sotol sandals the way he says, he might have made tracks like those.”
“Les is an expert,” Strick said, “but those things didn’t look like man tracks to me, sandals or no sandals.”
Ben watched Les, but he only shrugged his shoulders.
“Now, at the campsite,” Hondurak said.
“They’d been there two or three days,” Strick said, “so it was pretty messed up, you couldn’t tell nothing from nothing.”
“No slugs from the Hornet?”
“Nobody shot the Hornet,” Ben said.
“If there’re any there it’ll take awhile to find ’em,” Strick said. “We can go back when we’ve got more time.”
“Well,” Hondurak said, “it looks to me like we’ve got evidence that the old man was shot twice by a Hornet rifle up on the ridge and that Mr. Madec was shot by a Hornet rifle down on the desert.” He looked over at the two lawyers sitting together on the bench. “So it looks to me like we’re going to have to prefer some charges here. For the old man, suspicion of murder and, for Mr. Madec, felony-aggravated assault.”
Ben jumped up. “Wait a minute! You’re not even listening. You’re not even asking anybody anything. You …”
“Ben! Ben! Ben!” his uncle said to him. “Remember what I told you. Now hush up, Ben.”
Ben ignored him and walked over to where Les Stanton was sitting in a chair, his long legs stretched out in front of him. He drew them in as Ben came closer.
“Les, did you go up on that butte?”
“Yeah, we landed up on top of it.”
“Did you see that tunnel, about fifty feet down from the top, an old water tunnel with a catch basin in it?”
Les didn’t answer for a long time and didn’t look up at Ben as he finally said, “Don’t you remember, Ben? The day you and I flew over that butte, and I showed you the catch basin in that tunnel?”
“Les,” Ben said, “that’s why I went there. That’s why I had to get up there. For the water.”
Mr. Barowitz smiled and slowly shook his head. “Now that explains a great many things,” he said. “For example, it explains how you could describe that area very accurately—without ever having been in that tunnel!”
“I was in it,” Ben said.
Les kept looking down at the floor. “You couldn’t have reached that water using those tent pegs, Ben. You couldn’t have done it.”
“I didn’t. I came the other way.”
Les still didn’t look up. “Ben, I’m not calling you a liar, but a man couldn’t get into that tunnel from the other side.”
There was no use trying to convince them, Ben decided. He had to prove it to them. “Did you go down into the tunnel?” he asked.
“I roped down to it.”
For years Ben had thought of Les as one of the best and most honest of men, and the most desert-smart man he’d ever known. People liked to say that Les could track a bat.
“While I was in that tunnel,” Ben said, making his voice stay level and quiet, “I shot eleven birds with that slingshot. And I ate ’em. And left the bones. Did you see any bones, Les?”
Les didn’t say anything, just sat there frowning.
Ben couldn’t believe it. Les wouldn’t miss anything as obvious as those bones. “Gambel’s quail,” Ben said.
At last Les looked up. “There might have been bones, I just didn’t see any, Ben. It was getting pretty dark in there.”
Ben stared at him. “Then a whiptail lizard? I shot and ate one of those, too. Except the skin.”
“I didn’t see it, Ben,” Les said.
“Les, go back up there, will you? First thing in the morning.…”
Barowitz said calmly, “Your honor, I suggest that since this is not a trial but simply a hearing, we can avoid confusion by not dealing with minor details.”
Ben whirled on him. “They are not minor details! If there are bones up in that tunnel it proves I was there and not where Madec says I was.” He turned back to Les. “We’ve got to get ’em, Les, before something else does.…”
“Ben,” Hondurak said firmly. “I’ll handle this, if you please.”
“But don’t you see, sir? If there are bones …”
“May I interject something here?” Barowitz said. “Don’t birds sometimes die a natural death, your honor?”
As Ben started to yell at him, the sheriff held up his hand, but kept on reading from a notebook in his lap. “Now here’s what Mr. Madec said. That during the first couple of days you two were out in the desert you, Ben, were fooling around that butte. He says he doesn’t know whether you climbed it or not because he was off hunting bighorn, but you tried to climb it.”
“Fooling around!” Ben shouted and then lowered his voice. “If I was just fooling around, Ham, would I have eaten raw birds? And a raw lizard?”
Barowitz said, looking at Hondurak, “Although I agree with your honor that these details should be left to the court I would like to suggest that the mere presence of some bird bones does not in any way identify the person who ate the meat from them. In fact, and I bow to you men’s far wider experience in the desert, I think you will all agree that the mere presence of bones doesn’t even establish how they got there, or how the bird died, or what happened to the carcass.”
“Yeah,” Hondurak said. “Sit down, Ben. You know I’m real sorry about this, but you can see how things look. And I’m just the justice of the peace, Ben, and this isn’t a court, this isn’t final. All I’m doing is establishing whether there’s enough evidence to hold somebody. You see?”
“There’s plenty,” Ben said. “But not to hold me.”
“Now sit down, Ben,” Hondurak said sternly.
Ben sat down slowly, looking from man to man. The two lawyers were busy gathering up their briefcases and straightening their ties. Les just sat frowning down at the floor. Sergeant Hamilton had moved over and was talking quietly to Strick. Hondurak sat at the desk writing something.
No one was looking at him, not even Denny O’Neil, who was looking at his watch, or Sonja, who was gathering up the narrow folds of paper.
If these people who were once my friends will not believe me, will not even listen to me, Ben thought, what chance have I got when they take me out of this town and we go into a court at the county seat where nobody knows me?
Madec was so good. Everything was tied together, neatly and logically, with evidence to prove it.
And then Ben remembered. His voice sounded high and excited as he said, “Mr. Hondurak! Let me ask Les one more thing.”
“Now, Ben …”
“Just one thing.”
“Okay, make it short.”
“Les,” Ben said, “when you came down in the chopper where did Madec say I was?”
“In the mountains. He said you’d been shooting bighorn, and he was pretty sore about it.”
“How far away from the chopper?”
Les looked over at Denny. “Seven, eight miles?”
“About seven,” Denny said.
“So I couldn’t have seen you?”
br /> “What is the point of all this?” Barowitz asked.
“You wait,” Ben snapped at him. “Les, could I have seen you?”
“Well, you could’ve seen the chopper.”
“No, I mean you. What you had on, what you were wearing.”
“Well, I don’t know, Ben. No, I guess not. Not from seven miles.”
Ben looked over at Barowitz. Now, for the first time, he felt good, felt as though he were physically breaking out of this trap Madec had made for him.
“All right!” Ben said triumphantly. “But if I had been on the butte I could have seen you?”
“Sure. We landed right at the base of it.”
“All right! If I can tell you exactly what you had on then, I wasn’t in the mountains, was I? I was on the butte.”
Barowitz was standing up, as though ready to leave. “This is all very interesting,” he said, “but I wonder if it takes much imagination to describe the uniform a game warden wears?”
Ben just stood grinning at Barowitz as Hondurak said, “That’s a point.”
“Is it?” Ben asked. “Because Les didn’t have on his uniform. Did you, Les? You had on a purple shirt and yellow pants. And you had on white shoes. Didn’t you, Les?”
Les looked embarrassed. “Well, I had to take Clayton’s patrol at the last minute.”
Ben turned to Hondurak. “You see, sir, Madec is lying. Everything he’s said is a lie.”
“Mr. Hondurak!” Barowitz said, hurrying over to him. “I have to object to this sort of language, sir. I really do.”
“Now just calm down, Ben.… Les, what about it? Did you have on white shoes and a—purple shirt?”
Les laughed. “I go on patrol out of uniform one day in my life, and I wind up in the sheriff’s office.”
“I couldn’t have been in the mountains where Madec claims I was,” Ben said. “So if one of the things he said is wrong, why can’t all the things be wrong?”
As Barowitz walked across the room to the gun case on the wall, Hondurak said, “Now, take it easy, Ben.…”
Barowitz turned with Ben’s Hornet in his hands. He examined it a second and then said, “Quite a powerful telescopic sight on this rifle. I should think it would be quite easy to see what a man was wearing through a telescope like this.”
“Not from seven miles!” Ben yelled.
Barowitz held the gun up and looked through the scope. “I’m sure I could,” he said, putting the gun back.
The other lawyer spoke for the first time. “Or he could have been much closer but not on the butte. After all, he had left the camp some hours before. He could have been anywhere in the desert. Close enough to see what a man was wearing.”
Barowitz came back and picked up his briefcase. “I think you’ve made a wise decision, your honor, to charge this man. So, good night, sir.”
“Good night, good night,” Hondurak said absentmindedly.
As the door closed Hondurak slowly looked over at Ben. “I’m really sorry about this, Ben, but you see how it is. I’ve got to bind you over for trial.”
“No,” Ben said. “I don’t see. Madec shot the old man, and I shot Madec to keep him from shooting me. So I don’t see why I’m the only one being accused around here.”
“Okay, Strick,” Hondurak said, “lock him up.”
17
HIS UNCLE’S VOICE sounded faint and far away, a voice talking nonsense in a dream. “It’s all right, Ben. You’ll have a lawyer. It’s all right, boy.”
Ben looked at Strick. “Now I guess you really want me to walk in front of you.”
“Move,” Strick said.
Ben was reaching for the doorknob when the door opened, and Dr. Saunders came in. He was wearing the green smock with his instruments sticking out of the pockets.
Ben turned back to Hondurak. “Maybe the doctor knows something.”
The doctor looked at him as though he were some sort of bug and walked on by him, going toward Hondurak.
“Walk,” Strick said.
But again the door was blocked by the two lawyers coming back in.
“Hold it, Strick,” Hondurak said.
Ben stopped and turned around. The doctor was standing in front of Hondurak. He had his arms crossed and was looking down at Hondurak the same way he had looked at Ben. “I don’t like being sent for,” the doctor said.
Hondurak seemed surprised. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it to sound that way, Doc. I just thought you could help us.”
“Do what?’ ”
The two lawyers came up and stood behind the doctor.
Hondurak said, “These are Mr. Madec’s lawyers. Mr.…”
The doctor turned around and smiled. He held out his hand to Barowitz and they shook hands cordially.
“How are you, Doctor?” Barowitz asked.
“Did they fix you up in the motel all right?” the doctor asked.
“Perfect, thanks to you.”
“It was nothing,” the doctor said, smiling. “A pleasure.” Then he turned to face Hondurak and Ben saw all the haughtiness, the coldness come back into his manner. “Now, what did you want with me?” he demanded.
Hondurak said to no one in particular, “We need a doctor’s report on this matter.” Then he looked up at Saunders. “I mean, anything you can give us as evidence.”
“What’s involved?” the doctor snapped.
He was so cold, Ben thought, so hostile as he stood staring steadily at Hondurak.
Hondurak seemed intimidated. “Well, it’s a serious matter,” he said apologetically. “There’s suspicion of murder and aggravated assault.”
The doctor half-turned and stared at Ben coldly for a long time. “Justified,” he said.
Ben looked steadily back at him and said quietly, “I guess you want me to be scared of you, too, Doc. I’m not. I want …”
“Ben,” the sheriff said, “I’ve had enough of that. I don’t want any more interruptions from you.”
Ben turned to look at him. “Ham, I’m accused of murder. Haven’t I even got a right to try to defend myself?”
“You’ll get your day in court,” the sheriff said.
“If it’s anything like this one I’ll be in jail the rest of my life,” Ben said.
“Ben,” Hondurak said, “if you don’t keep quiet I’ll have you locked up, and I’ll also charge you with contempt. Now keep quiet.” He lowered his voice and said politely, “All right, Doctor.…”
The doctor turned to look at Ben. “This man has abrasions on his back, buttocks, arms, legs, feet and knees. These abrasions were made when there was nothing—no fabric or other material—between his skin and whatever was scraping against him. In other words, he was naked at the time. The lacerations of his feet and the cut on his cheek were apparently made by sharp stones. There were grains of sand in his hair, beard, ears and pubic area.”
“Interesting,” Barowitz said. “Tell me, Doctor, could those injuries have been caused by being hit in the face with a heavy metal locator which knocked him off a cliff down on some rather sharp stones?”
“Possibly,” the doctor said, and then added, “If he had been naked at the time he fell.”
Barowitz smiled at him. “Now, Doctor wouldn’t that be a little difficult to prove? Under oath?”
“I could have proved it last night when I cleaned the areas. I can’t prove it now.”
“I didn’t think you could,” Barowitz said.
The doctor shrugged and went on. “This man had also suffered from extreme dehydration and had been exposed for a considerable time to the sun, while naked.”
“If you remember, sir,” Barowitz said to Hondurak, “Mr. Madec complained in his statement that this man he had hired to take him hunting wasted a great deal of their time lying about, nude, taking sunbaths.”
“Oh, come on!” Ben said. He looked around at the others. “I’m not crazy. I don’t lie out in the sun in that desert. You know that.”
“Mr. O’Neil,” Barowitz said, “
didn’t you tell me that one time when you were in the helicopter you saw this man lying nude in the desert?”
“Well,” Denny said, not looking at Ben, “I don’t know whether he was absolutely nude.”
Ben stared at Denny until he at last looked at him. “Thanks a lot,” Ben said.
“I didn’t know he was going to twist it around like that,” Denny said.
Barowitz looked at Ben. “Do you deny Mr. O’Neil’s testimony?”
Ben slumped in his chair. “One time, I was trying to find out how a vulture would react to a body lying on the desert,” he said tonelessly.
“Oh, I see,” Barowitz said. “You weren’t taking a sunbath?”
“I wasn’t taking a sunbath.”
“Just lying there waiting to be devoured by the vultures?”
Ben saw some of them smile.
Barowitz turned away. “Now, Doctor,” he said pleasantly, “you’ve detailed the minor cuts and bruises of this man, but what of my …”
Hondurak interrupted him by saying, “Doctor, didn’t you put in your report that Ben had been shot, too?”
“Yes, in the arm.”
“And a very interesting wound it is,” Barowitz said, “I suggest you take a look at it, sir.”
Ben held up his arm, turning it so that the two bandages could be seen.
“Isn’t that a convenient little wound?” Barowitz asked. “The kind of minor flesh wound a man would inflict on himself in an attempt to accuse someone of shooting him. As you say in your report, Doctor, the bullet caused no injury to his arm. It’s evident, sir, that this man shot himself, being very careful not to hurt himself, and only for the purpose of trying to incriminate Mr. Madec.”
“Mr. Hondurak, how did I do that, if I didn’t have a gun?” Ben asked.
Barowitz said smoothly, “Sir, it has already been established that he did have a gun, that he took his rifle with him. That’s how he was able to see the warden’s clothes—with the telescopic sight.”
“Oh, that’s right,” Hondurak said.
Barowitz turned back to the doctor. “Now let’s get on to real evidence. The intentional, deliberate, premeditated—and actual—shooting of Mr. Madec by this man, who now claims that he didn’t have a gun. I’m sure, Doctor, that you can prove to any court’s satisfaction that Mr. Madec was shot, and shot repeatedly, with malice and with forethought.”