Winter Kill - lanyon Josh - Страница 14

• Предыдущая
• 14/48
• Следующая

“You’re sure? Because that would be convenient.”

“Wouldn’t it?”

“Seen enough?”

“I think so.”

“I want to show you something else.”

They started back toward the front of the museum. Adam paused at one of the smashed cases. There were three masks similar to the one worn by the mannequin near the entrance doors. Old and elaborate concoctions of carved cedar and brilliant plant dyes. They were large and would be very heavy and awkward to wear. Visibility would be nil. You couldn’t wear them hunting or fighting. Their purpose would have to be ceremonial only.

On the far right was a bear mask, similar to, though larger than, the one worn by the mannequin in the front lobby. The second was of a dog or a wolf, and the third seemed to depict a bald man with a pierced lip and goggling eyes.

“What was he after here?”

“We think he took a mask,” Rob said. “That’s what it looks like. If so, he took the card with it. If he took one, I don’t know why he wouldn’t take all four. They’re probably the most valuable things in the museum. Collectors pay big bucks for these ceremonial masks.”

Beside the case was a placard with browned paper. Adam leaned forward to read it. “‘Spell of the Laughing Raven’?”

Rob shrugged. “A story. A Modoc legend.”

Adam read.

At “dance place” when the Klamath Lake people danced, many people were there.

Kemush, Old Man of the Ancients, went there. Then Old Raven laughed at them, laughed when they danced, and all people dancing there became rocks.

Gray Wolf entered Kitti above, from the north. There he stopped and lay down, although not yet having reached his home. In full dress, at that spot, moccasins with beads on toe, stopped and rested.

Then Old Grizzly approached Old Gray Wolf while lying asleep. And Old Grizzly stole from Gray Wolf his moccasins, beads also, and put them on to go to the fishing place.

Upon this, Old Gray Wolf, waking up, threw Old Grizzly down hill. He rolled him down over the rocks for having robbed him of moccasins and beads also. Thus killed he Old Grizzly.

Upon this, the Klamath Lake people began fighting the Northerners because Old Grizzly had been killed by Old Gray Wolf.

Then Old Raven laughed at them when fighting and they became rocks.

He looked over at Rob who was watching him with an odd expression. “What does it mean?”

“You’re asking me?”

“You said you’ve been reading up on this stuff.”

“I just started,” Rob said. “We’ve been a little busy around here, you may have noticed.”

Adam turned to examine the case contents again. “I’ll tell you what he took,” he said. “He took the raven’s mask.”

Chapter Five

Of course. It was so damned obvious when you weren’t trying to find a logical reason for murder and robbery. Adam’s almost impatient certainty was annoying. So Rob said stolidly, “Yep. That’s one theory.”

As though reading his thoughts—right down to that flicker of childish You don’t know everything!—Adam smiled. It was a tiny smile, true, just a glimpse of those white and too pointy incisors. He said gravely, “Oh? What’s your other theory?”

“Simple theft. Like I said, these are valuable collector’s items.”

“Like you also said, why take one mask and not the others?” And now Adam was not bothering to hide his smile. He was full out grinning, full of confidence and superiority.

“No idea,” Rob said curtly. “Why take the card describing the mask, but not take that placard, if it’s related to the mask?”

“True.”

Only partially mollified, Rob turned away. “I want to show you where we think he found the actual murder weapon. Although maybe you’ll decide it was actually a tomahawk he took.”

Adam said nothing. In fact, his silence was so complete that Rob wished he had kept his mouth shut. The problem was the G-man thing was a little intimidating, and Rob was not used to feeling out of his league. He was also not used to running into a guy who could apparently take or leave him without a second thought. Because he had given Adam a second thought. And maybe a third and fourth too.

He stopped in front of another damaged case. This one contained iron knives of different sizes and shapes. Some had simple handles of bone or wood. Others were carved with more elaborate designs.

Adam said nothing, waiting for Rob to do the honors, apparently.

Rob said, “He didn’t break into every display case, so we believe that the cases he did break into held items he wanted.”

“That makes sense,” Adam said politely.

“Every one of these knives matches up to one of those descriptor cards. So either he didn’t take anything, or he took the card along with the knife.”

Adam nodded.

“For whatever reason, he doesn’t want us to know what he took, although he clearly wasn’t worried about hiding the fact that he took something.”

“It doesn’t seem like he was in any kind of a hurry either,” Adam said.

“Well, he wouldn’t be. There’s nobody for miles around. And Cynthia’s daughter was spending the weekend with friends.”

“How would he know that though?”

“Tiffany is a cheerleader for the basketball team, and Haney High is in the playoffs. The kids up here usually stay with friends in Klamath when there’s a Friday away game.”

Adam seemed surprised. “That would be common knowledge?”

“Yep.”

Adam smiled tentatively. “Small towns.”

Rob smiled back. “That’s the truth.”

Adam returned to studying the broken case. “Joseph must have kept a catalog of the museum’s contents and their provenance. We should be able to look at her files and see what’s missing.”

“Frankie’s working that angle. The last photos of the exhibits are outdated. Joseph sold a few artifacts a couple of years ago to come up with funding to keep the museum open. And items have been moved around. A lot of Cynthia’s notes are handwritten, and Frankie’s one of the only people who can decipher her handwriting.”

Adam started to say something, then seemed to think better of it. “It would be useful to check out Joseph’s home. I suppose we don’t have access yet?”

“Sure we do. We can walk over right now.”

It took about three minutes to walk the snowy and uneven expanse from the museum to the small white house at the edge of the forest. Adam appeared to be deep in thought, so Rob left him to it. The afternoon air was bitterly cold, and it turned Adam’s face pink and the tip of his nose red. Rob forgot his irritation. Maybe Adam was a know-it-all, but at least he wasn’t as big an ass as his partner.

Though the land between the museum and the house where the Josephs lived had been left wild, a neat square of lawn surrounded the house. Clumps of snow covered the flower beds. The flag pole in the center of the front lawn was bare.

“Cynthia’s NPS truck is still in the garage,” Rob said, unlocking the front door. “This door was left unlocked. There’s no indication her killer came inside. No mud or rain water on the floor, nothing out of place as far as we can tell.”

The house was dark and quiet, the only sound the rain on the roof and the clock ticking patiently away in the living room. The first room off the entry hall was the kitchen, dated but tidy.

The dishwasher was sealed, green light indicating dishes were clean. A small wood burned sign above the refrigerator read: A man travels the world over in search of what he needs, and returns home to find it.

“Happiness is found in your own backyard,” Adam said.

Rob gave him a puzzled look. Adam nodded at the sign.

“Maybe it’s true,” Rob said. “It depends on the backyard. Her bedroom is down the hall.”

The master bedroom faced the museum. One set of window blinds were tangled as though they had been opened in a hurry. The bed was unmade. A pair of slippers rested on the woven rug beside the bed. The shirt of a Park Ranger uniform was tossed on the floor.

• Предыдущая
• 14/48
• Следующая