into a moment of personal splendor.
He told Burr he was jacking it out of El Paso that night. Then, as he toasted the air and said, 'Mexico or bust,' Burr saw him hesitate, saw those agate eyes pare away everything around him except the halfcaught sound of tires breaking in front of the house, then the scruff cutting of boots across gravel. He had the curtain open quick and saw Justice Knox and two men sprinting up the walkway and spreading around the house with weapons drawn.
'Goddamn,' he said, scrambling across the den past Burr and through the kitchen, frightening the cook so she gasped, only to be met by gunfire as he made the screened-in porch.
He dropped down to the floor, gun drawn, and huddled up behind the porch wall. He sat there out of breath, and as he was ordered to surrender he yelled back, 'You're either good Christians or bad shots. Either way it doesn't speak well of you.'
Then Rawbone heard scattershot voices moving through the house. He could make out justice Knox shouting to his men, who answered they had him pinned down on the porch. He pulled his legs up and rested his arms on his knees.
Justice Knox called to him from rooms away, 'Give it up peacefully!'
Rawbone banged the back of his head against the porch wall in anger. 'I'm up some well-digger's ass who's at the bottom of a hole.' He shouted, 'What says my attorney?'
'Give it up peacefully,' Burr answered.
'Is that your best legal advice?'
'I'm saving that for later. So take heed.'
He rose up in the sandy light, arms first, and was surrounded there on the porch steps. John Lourdes watched how he took his capture as a boring and peremptory ceremony. And as they manhandled and cuffed him, Rawbone noticed one of the agents was the young man he'd spoken to in the building lobby. 'Well,' he said, 'I see you took my advice and got those gunsights up.'
six
T HAD HAPPENED too fast and not near with the force John Lourdes had always imagined. He'd hoped some physical law of existence would be affected. There had been no suffering and no acknowledgment from that dusky figure that he would now face his end. John Lourdes felt barren and empty, as if the dust of everything that had been his life blew through the whetted bones of his chest.
John Lourdes rode with justice Knox and another agent in a poor excuse for a touring car. Agent Howell had been ordered to follow the girl from the Mills Building and stop her at the border. She was now being held incommunicado in a basement room at Immigration.
When Knox and his agents arrived, the girl was bundled up on the floor behind some filing cabinets. She was a pathetic sight rocking back and forth while keeping her face hidden behind her hands.
'What's going on here?' asked Knox.
Howell pointed at the girl, 'She's an imbecile.'
Lourdes walked past the agent, saying, 'I told you she was deaf.'
'She may be deaf, but she's an imbecile.'
Knox rebuked Howell with a look. 'She has information we need.'
'She's an imbecile.'
Lourdes knelt down. The girl clenched up at being touched, but by proceeding gently he managed to get her hands away from her face. When she finally saw who it was, she seemed to ease a bit, even as she stared at the strange men in this hostile setting. He coaxed her to stand and then to sit at a table. The room had brick walls and no windows. There was a single electric light that hung from the ceiling. It was a dire kind of place, unlikely to put one's fears at rest, but he tried by placing a hand to his heart and then touching her shoulder.
He turned to his commanding officer. 'Sir?'
'Does anyone have an idea how we deal with her?'
No one did. Only John Lourdes offered, 'May I try something, sir?'
'She seems to be at ease with you.'
He sat at the table opposite her. He had been turning over in his head ways to try and reach her during the ride to Immigration. He took out his pocket notepad and pencil. He began to write.
'She's an imbecile,' said Howell.
