Twenty Blue Devils

what he was looking for, a long-barreled, old-fashioned revolver...

'That old Ruger Single-Six,” Nick murmured to himself. “Tari's had it forever.'

'I knew he was going to kill me,” Rudy said with a burst of energy that sat him upright. He looked up fiercely, taking all of them in. “You have to believe that. If it had happened to you, you'd know too. Otherwise I'd never have had the nerve, not in a million years...'

He had jumped up and stumbled half-consciously across the room, he said, and grabbed frantically at the gun with both hands. The instant he touched it, it went off—

'Must have had the hammer cocked,” John said.

'Yes, the hammer, that's right!” Rudy exclaimed, as if this were some vital point. “It makes a little click—I heard it. I think that's what woke me up...'

'And the bullet struck him?” Bertaud asked.

'Yes...well, the funny thing is, I thought I was shot at first. It's amazing—I was sure I felt it hit me, I thought I was dying, and Tari was just standing there without moving...but in a second he just—he just fell over—backward, like a big tree falling...'

A shiver rolled visibly down his body. The energy went out of him once more. He closed his eyes again and didn't open them as he continued. “There's a fireplace with a raised hearth. He hit the back of his head on it. I...heard it crack. He didn't move. When I went to look at him I could see—'

Dumont came back, huffing from his run. “Dead as a herring,” he said to Bertaud in French. “Gunshot wound in the right temple, blood all over the place, what a mess. I called headquarters. LePeau and his people are on the way.'

'Good. See if Dr. Viennot is available too. He'll want to have a look. Then get this one'—this one was Rudy—'off to the hospital to have his head looked after, and then have Brusseau take his statement.'

'I don't need a hospital,” Rudy said in English. “I'm perfectly fine, all I need is a Band-Aid. I was just a little woozy there for a—'

The policeman ignored him. “Should I seal the cabin?” he asked Bertaud.

'No, I'll take care of it. I want to go and see for myself.'

Dumont left, hauling a querulous, weakly protesting Rudy with him.

Bertaud opened the back door, then hesitated. “Mr. Lau, Dr. Oliver—if you would care to see the scene...?'

They both answered at once.

'Sure,” John said.

'Good God, no!” said Gideon.

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Chapter 25

* * * *

'Sorry, I just don't buy it,” Gideon said with a shake of his head. “I just feel there has to be more to it than that.'

'Interconnected monkey business?” John said, munching peanuts. John too had heard Abe discourse on the subject.

'That's right. There's too much going on, John. Brian's murder figures in here somewhere.'

John scooped up another handful of nuts from a bowl on the bar and popped some into his mouth. “What happened to that other law you're always spouting off about—the one about how you're not supposed to make anything more complicated than it has to be?'

'Occam's razor, the law of parsimony,” Gideon said “Economy of assumptions. Choose the simplest explanation that's consistent with the data.'

'Right, makes sense, so why go out of your way to assume there's some mysterious connection to Brian when you don't have to?'

Gideon sipped from his glass of Chablis. “Then what's your explanation?'

'Of what? When Brian got killed Tari figured that was his chance to get away with a little skimming, but he got greedy—or stupid—he got caught with his hand in the till, he panicked—and he wound up dead. What's to explain?'

'Brian's getting murdered, for starters.'

John sighed. “As far as we know, that's an unrelated issue, Doc. Let's not make things any harder than they are. You know what my boss says about you?'

'Yes, I know,” Gideon said sourly.

John waggled his fingers to call for another Hinano. “Economy of assumptions, I like that. Uh-oh, watch out, here she goes again.'

The bartender, one of a pair of Junoesque Tahitians in floral tiaras, bright pareus, and bare feet, used a hammer to whack a mounted pair of cymbals at the center of the circular bar.