Keep rubbing them. And keep talking. Do you know the timetable? Leaphorn asked. Did you hear anything about that?
They told the Scouts they’d probably be here about two or three days. Maybe less. Until they get the ransom.
Do you know how many are involved? I’ve seen three in the cave. Are there more than that?
I’ve seen at least five, Father Tso said. When my brother brought us back, first there was just a young man here they call Jackie. Just my brother and Jackie. Then when they brought the Boy Scouts there were three more of them. One with an awfully disfigured face, called Tull. He’s still here, I think. But I haven’t seen the other two again.
This Jackie. How was he dressed? Leaphorn asked.
Jeans, Father Tso said. Denim shirt. Red sweatband around his forehead.
Yes, I’ve seen him, Leaphorn said. Where are the other hostages? And how’d you get away?
They’ve got a sort of cage welded together out of reinforcing rods or something, Tso said.
Set back in a part of the cave way back there. That’s where they put Theodora and me at first, and then they brought the Boy Scouts in. Then a couple of hours ago they took me out and moved me into another part of the cave. Tso pointed behind him. A sort of big room back in that direction, and they put these things on my wrists and ankles and they sort of anchored me to a stalagmite. Tso laughed. Tied a rope around How’d you get loose?
Well, they warned me that if I moved around too much with these nylon things on they’d tighten up and cut off my circulation, but I found that if you didn’t mind a little of that, you could work the strip around so that the knot was where you could get at it.
Leaphorn remembered trying on the nylon cuffs when the department was considering them, and how quickly pulling against them caused them to cut into your wrists. He glanced at Tso, re-measuring him.
The people who invented those things counted on people not wanting to hurt themselves, Leaphorn said.
I guess so, Father Tso said. He was massaging his ankles now. Anyway, these calcite deposits are too soft to cut anything. I thought maybe I could find some sort of outcropping granite or something where I could cut the nylon off.
Is the feeling coming back? Leaphorn asked. Good. I don’t think we want to waste any time if we can help it. I don’t have a gun. He helped Tso to his feet and supported him.
When they come to the cage to get the questions answered, who comes? Just one of them?
The last time it was just the one with the red headband. The one they called Jackie.
You okay now? Ready to move?
Father Tso took a step, and then a smaller one, and sucked in his breath sharply. Just give me a second to get used to it. The breath hissed through gritted teeth. What are we going to do? he whispered.
Were going to be there when they come back to the cage. If you can find a place for me to hide. If two come, we wont try anything right now. But if just one of them comes, then you step out and confront him. Make as much noise as you can to cover me coming, and Ill jump him.
As I remember it, there’s not much to hide behind, Tso said doubtfully. Not close anyway.
They moved slowly through the dark, the priest limping gingerly, Leaphorn supporting part of his weight.
There’s one other thing, Tso said. I don’t think this Tull is sane. He thinks he dies and comes back alive again.
I’ve heard about Tull, Leaphorn said.
And my brother, Tso said. I guess you’d have to say he’s sort of crazy, too.
Leaphorn said nothing. They moved silently toward the light, feeling their way. From ahead, suddenly, there came the sound of a woman’s voice distant, and as yet undecipherable.
This is terrible for Theodora, Father Tso said. Terrible.
Yes, Leaphorn said. He was remembering Captain Largos instructions. He flicked the flash on getting direction and quickly off.
My brother, Tso said. He stayed with my father, and my father was a drunk. Tsos whisper was barely audible. I didn’t ever live with them. All I know is what I’ve heard, but I heard it was bad. My father died of a beating in Gallup. The whisper stopped and Leaphorn began thinking of other things, of what his tactics would have to be.
My brother was about fourteen when it happened, Father Tso said. I heard my brother was there when they beat him, and that it was the police that did it.
Maybe, Leaphorn said. There’re some bad cops. He flicked the light on again, and off.
That’s not what I’m talking about, Father Tso said. I’m telling you because I don’t think there’ll be any hostages released. He paused. They’ve gone too far for that, the voice whispered. Theyre not sane. None of them. Poor Theodora.
They could hear the voice of Theodora Adams again, a matter more of tones echoing than of words. Leaphorn was suddenly aware that he was exhausted. His hip throbbed steadily now, his burn stung, his cut hand hurt. He felt sick and frightened and humiliated.
And all this merged into anger.
God damn it, he said. You say you’re a priest? What were you doing with a woman anyway?
Tso limped along silently. Leaphorn instantly regretted the question.
There are good priests and bad ones, Tso said. You get into it because you tell yourself somebody needs help . . .
