the one you like,” and sat down.
“Joe,” he said. “You were going to tell us how that slow-moving love affair between Sergeant Chee and Bernie Manuelito came out of this. Did I miss anything?”
“Nothing interesting,” Captain Largo said.
“Well, I think you all know the happy ending,” Leaphorn said. “They had a fine traditional wedding at her mother’s place. But…”
“But what?” Pinto asked.
“Well, apparently Chee’s performance down in the canyon made such an impression on Bernie that she gave in, and they’re living in that little old house trailer Jim calls home.”
“I’ll bet that won’t last long,” Largo said. “That Manuelito girl, she’s something else.”
They tried their doughnuts, sipped coffee.
“Bernie heard from that Joanna Craig woman,” Leaphorn announced. “The one who was trying to recover her daddy’s arm bone. She said they’ve done the DNA test, and they have a perfect match. She told Bernie the lawyer who got control of the estate involved in this, he called her lawyer and was offering some sort of deal. And Joanna said she’d rather burn in hell than make a deal with that man.”
“Another thing,” Pinto said. “I heard Tuve told the Arizona State Police that Ms. Craig shot that private eye, that Sherman. How’d she get out of that?”
“The way I heard it, Sherman was maybe a little embarrassed getting shot by a woman with his own pistol, or maybe it was he didn’t want a lot of digging into what he was doing out there. Anyway, he insisted that it was an accident. Claimed he was fooling with the pistol and it went off.”
“What’s that all about?” said Largo. “I wasn’t in on that.”
“Don’t ask,” Pinto said. “It’s way too complicated to understand.”
“Well, how about the diamonds, then?” Largo said.
“Chee told me the Park Service and the Arizona people recovered the body of that Chandler fella. The Colorado River had washed him all the way down to the shallow end of Lake Mead. But no diamonds on him. Found the body of the Skeleton Man, too. But no identification. No more chance of doing that than they have of finding the diamonds.”
Joe Leaphorn, the legendary lieutenant, was smiling. “Just think. Million of dollars’ worth of diamonds on the riverbottom. Or Lake Mead. Maybe the pumps will suck some of them up. Maybe we’ll be hearing of diamonds being sprayed out of those wonderful Las Vegas fountains. Just think of the new set of legends this is going to produce.”
About the Author
Tony Hillerman is a former president of the Mystery Writers of America and has received its Edgar and Grand Master Awards. His other honors include the Center for the American Indian’s Ambassador Award, the Silver Spur Award for the best novel set in the West, and the Navajo Tribe’s Special Friend Award. He lives with his wife in Albuquerque, New Mexico.
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