[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
mollydancing for many days and I am quite familiar with the unfortunate details of the murder."
"What were you working on before they put you on the Kettrick?"
"A local killing. And I was not 'put on' the Kettrick case. I volunteered to work on it. Fascinating
business." The elevator slowed. "Here we are."
Moody followed him out into a covered parking structure. That's when it hit him. The air. There was
something not right about it. The lack of oxygen he'd expected and was prepared for. Klagetoh was
nearly six thousand feet above sea level. But the dryness came as a shock. He was inhaling something
cool and utterly devoid of moisture; oxynitro as pure as the symbology of a periodic table. Dizzy, he
paused and tried to recover, convinced the potted plants lining the walkway were leaning hungrily toward
him, about to puncture his moisture-rich form with hypodermic air-roots capable of sucking the water
from his body.
"Hey, Moody; you okay?" Ooljee eyed him with concern.
"Just gimme a minute." The detective straightened, breathing deeply. The dizziness went away.
He picked up his luggage and resumed walking. Ooljee said nothing about the delay, but did slow his
relentless pace.
"I'm glad somebody finds the case interesting," Moody wheezed. "Got everyone jittery back home. We
haven't made a whole helluva lot of progress lately."
"I hope we can be helpful."
"Yeah. Say, why do your friends call you crazy?"
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"Everyone in my clan thinks I would be a plant manager by now if I had gone into commerce instead of
police work. It does not matter to them that I happen to like police work. It suits my nature. What do
you know about Navaho sand-paintings?"
"I know one guy got himself killed over one. That's about it. In my department you don't have to take
anthropology to make detective."
"Different departments. Why don't we rest here a moment? Sometimes it helps, when you have just
come up from sea level."
Moody hesitated, checked with his heart and lungs, and gave in to their reply. He set his luggage down
next to a bench and then gratefully let the hardwood slats cradle his weight. Ooljee remained standing.
"You will be seeing sandpaintings all over town, especially in the hotels and gift shops. It is a big
business. Some are still done using colored sand, while others are just painted on canvas or board."
There was a twinkle in his eye. "The first thing you should know is that every one of them is wrong."
"Wrong? Wrong how?"
"The colors, the tilt of a figure, the way it faces, the arrangement of plants or designs; one or all are
incorrect. No one would make an accurate sandpainting to sell to a tourist, because the magic might get
loose.*'
So now I know why they call you crazy, Moody thought amusedly, suspecting he was being skillfully put
on. "You're not telling me anybody out here actually believes in stuff like that anymore?"
"Oh no," replied Ooljee with exaggerated concern. "To do so would mark that person as an unrepentant
primitive, a throwback, an apologist for ancient superstition."
"Then why bother to change the paintings that are sold to tourists?"
"Many of the people here, especially the older ones, tend to adopt an unspoken agnostic-like position.
They can be ninety-nine per cent sure there is no magic, but the remaining one per cent might make life
unnecessarily complex. So those who manufacture the sandpaintings for mass distribution will tell you it is
all old nonsense at the same time as they are making sure at least one small part of each painting they turn
out is inaccurate.
"It's easy for them, because only a trained hatathli, a medicine man, knows how to make an accurate
medicine painting, and they do not make things to sell to tourists. So you need not worry if you buy one.
There will be no real magic in it."
"That's a great relief," said Moody. "Now I can embark on a life without fear."
"Hold to the comfort of your skepticism. We may need it later. Do not forget that someone, and I
concur with your department that he is most likely Navaho, has murdered two people and violated the
security of a major multinational insurance firm because of a sandpainting."
"But no specific suspects yet?"
"I regret not. It will come. Your cadcam portrait was very distinctive, and we have more to go on than
that. There is, for example, the fact that the victim's secretary heard the perpetrator make his request to
Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
acquire the sandpainting a fourth time. In our culture a request made a fourth time must be honored. I
think it an unlikely ploy for a non-Navaho to try."
"Any idea why he destroyed the painting after making such an effort to acquire it? The theory out my [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
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mollydancing for many days and I am quite familiar with the unfortunate details of the murder."
"What were you working on before they put you on the Kettrick?"
"A local killing. And I was not 'put on' the Kettrick case. I volunteered to work on it. Fascinating
business." The elevator slowed. "Here we are."
Moody followed him out into a covered parking structure. That's when it hit him. The air. There was
something not right about it. The lack of oxygen he'd expected and was prepared for. Klagetoh was
nearly six thousand feet above sea level. But the dryness came as a shock. He was inhaling something
cool and utterly devoid of moisture; oxynitro as pure as the symbology of a periodic table. Dizzy, he
paused and tried to recover, convinced the potted plants lining the walkway were leaning hungrily toward
him, about to puncture his moisture-rich form with hypodermic air-roots capable of sucking the water
from his body.
"Hey, Moody; you okay?" Ooljee eyed him with concern.
"Just gimme a minute." The detective straightened, breathing deeply. The dizziness went away.
He picked up his luggage and resumed walking. Ooljee said nothing about the delay, but did slow his
relentless pace.
"I'm glad somebody finds the case interesting," Moody wheezed. "Got everyone jittery back home. We
haven't made a whole helluva lot of progress lately."
"I hope we can be helpful."
"Yeah. Say, why do your friends call you crazy?"
Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
"Everyone in my clan thinks I would be a plant manager by now if I had gone into commerce instead of
police work. It does not matter to them that I happen to like police work. It suits my nature. What do
you know about Navaho sand-paintings?"
"I know one guy got himself killed over one. That's about it. In my department you don't have to take
anthropology to make detective."
"Different departments. Why don't we rest here a moment? Sometimes it helps, when you have just
come up from sea level."
Moody hesitated, checked with his heart and lungs, and gave in to their reply. He set his luggage down
next to a bench and then gratefully let the hardwood slats cradle his weight. Ooljee remained standing.
"You will be seeing sandpaintings all over town, especially in the hotels and gift shops. It is a big
business. Some are still done using colored sand, while others are just painted on canvas or board."
There was a twinkle in his eye. "The first thing you should know is that every one of them is wrong."
"Wrong? Wrong how?"
"The colors, the tilt of a figure, the way it faces, the arrangement of plants or designs; one or all are
incorrect. No one would make an accurate sandpainting to sell to a tourist, because the magic might get
loose.*'
So now I know why they call you crazy, Moody thought amusedly, suspecting he was being skillfully put
on. "You're not telling me anybody out here actually believes in stuff like that anymore?"
"Oh no," replied Ooljee with exaggerated concern. "To do so would mark that person as an unrepentant
primitive, a throwback, an apologist for ancient superstition."
"Then why bother to change the paintings that are sold to tourists?"
"Many of the people here, especially the older ones, tend to adopt an unspoken agnostic-like position.
They can be ninety-nine per cent sure there is no magic, but the remaining one per cent might make life
unnecessarily complex. So those who manufacture the sandpaintings for mass distribution will tell you it is
all old nonsense at the same time as they are making sure at least one small part of each painting they turn
out is inaccurate.
"It's easy for them, because only a trained hatathli, a medicine man, knows how to make an accurate
medicine painting, and they do not make things to sell to tourists. So you need not worry if you buy one.
There will be no real magic in it."
"That's a great relief," said Moody. "Now I can embark on a life without fear."
"Hold to the comfort of your skepticism. We may need it later. Do not forget that someone, and I
concur with your department that he is most likely Navaho, has murdered two people and violated the
security of a major multinational insurance firm because of a sandpainting."
"But no specific suspects yet?"
"I regret not. It will come. Your cadcam portrait was very distinctive, and we have more to go on than
that. There is, for example, the fact that the victim's secretary heard the perpetrator make his request to
Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
acquire the sandpainting a fourth time. In our culture a request made a fourth time must be honored. I
think it an unlikely ploy for a non-Navaho to try."
"Any idea why he destroyed the painting after making such an effort to acquire it? The theory out my [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]