'Was Bucky Watson one of them?'
'I believe so.'
'There was another man with the group. He may have been Hispanic or Mexican. Do you remember meeting him?'
'I can't say that I do.'
Gilbert held out a photograph.
'Please look at the man at the extreme left of the picture with his head partially turned away, and tell me if you know him.'
Roger leaned forward and looked.
'I don't know him.'
'He may own a house in Rancho Caballo.'
'I wouldn't know.'
Gilbert put the photograph away.
'I understand that some time back you lost a key to the governor's private elevator and had to have it replaced. Did you ever find the key?'
'No.'
'You didn't loan the key to anyone?'
'No.'
'Did you ever date Amanda Talley?'
'Yes, we dated for a while, two years ago, soon after she came to town.'
'But not recently?'
'I said it was two years ago.'
'I'm a little confused about your answer. Last month you were seen in the governor's suite after hours with Amanda Talley.'
'I may have run into Amanda at my uncle's office one evening, Sergeant, but that's all there was to it.'
'Why would Ms. Talley be in the governor's office after hours?'
'Do you suspect Amanda, Sergeant?'
'What was your business there that night?'
'I believe I left a legal brief for the governor's chief of staff to review.'
'You didn't rendezvous with Amanda at the governor's office that evening?'
'Are you suggesting a romantic interlude of a sexual nature? Isn't that how you referred to it in my office? I did not. As I told you, our relationship has been over for a long time.'
'Several of Ms. Talley's closest friends suggest otherwise.
They report that you and Amanda continue to meet privately upon occasion.'
Springer blinked.
'If you've spoken with Amanda, I'm sure you know that's simply not true.'
'We haven't been able to reach her yet. She's out of the country.'
'Isn't it premature to make accusations you can't substantiate?'
'We found some pubic hairs on the carpet in the governor's office.
Right in front of his desk.'
'Did you?'
Gilbert reached out, plucked a loose hair off the collar of Springer's bathrobe, and inspected it.
'From two different individuals,' he lied.
Springer paled considerably as he watched Gilbert place the hair between the pages of his notebook and close the cover.
'You just violated my constitutional rights,' Springer said.
'You have no authority to collect physical evidence without a search warrant.'
'Physical evidence?' Gilbert replied innocently.
'You're not a suspect, Mr. Springer. Didn't I make that dear? I don't think you have any reason to be concerned.'
'It's time for you to leave. Sergeant.'
Outside, Gilbert took a deep breath. A piece of the puzzle had fallen into place, although it probably didn't matter much, since he couldn't actually prove Roger Springer had jumped Amanda Talley's bones on the governor's carpet.
The whole thing had been a bluff, and the ploy could cost him, big time. Gilbert was sure the brass would hear about it in the morning, and the thought that he might get bounced off the investigation and stuck in some cubbyhole, sorting evidence inventories for die rest of his career, didn't sit well.
Gilbert doubted he would get much sleep when he got home. the doctors had given Robert painkillers. He woke up to Kerney's gentle shaking with a small groan. His beard had been shaved off, and there were bruises on his mouth and chin. His lip was split and two upper front teeth were missing.
Without the beard, Robert's face had an unused quality to it, except for his eyes, which looked very old.
His left arm was suspended in a cast, and his torso had been wrapped to immobilize a broken rib.
He looked at Kerney and said nothing. It made Kerney wonder if Robert was hearing voices in his head. Finally, Robert licked his lower lip and coughed.
'How are you, Robert?' Kerney asked.
'Un poco de agua, por favor,' Robert said.
With great care, Kerney tilted Robert's head off the pillow and placed the straw protruding from the plastic water jug between Robert's lips.
Robert took several small sips and then pulled the straw from his lips.
'It hurts to use my mouth,' he said.
'You don't have to talk now, if you don't want to.'
'You understand Spanish, Kerney,' Robert said.
'Who did this to you?'
'El Malo.'
Kerney knew the term. It meant 'the evil one,' a colloquialism for the devil.
'How did he do this to you?'
Robert blinked and looked confused.
'My head feels better.'
'I hope it stays that way.'
'El Malo never stays with me. He's just non hatajo de mentiras.'
'He lies to you?'
Robert smirked.
'He says I'm not crazy.'
'That must be good to hear.'
'It's a lie.' Robert paused for a moment.
'Once I dreamed I was Jesus Christ. You know what I did in the dream?'
'What did you do?'
'I killed myself.' Robert giggled.
'Isn't that funny?'
'That was some dream.'
'El Malo makes me dream shit like that. It's bad luck to dream you're Jesus.'
'Who beat you up, Robert?'
'I was naguitas, Kerney. A real sissy. I didn't even throw one punch.
Not one.'
'Maybe you didn't have the chance.'
'You're supposed to fight back. That's the rule.'
'Even tofe bolos like you can get tricked,' Kerney ventured.
Robert considered Kerney's statement.
'You got fucked up pretty bad, shot and everything. Isn't that right?'
