Death Walker (20 page)

Justine came up and cleared her throat. “Do you have a moment?”

Something in Justine’s tone made Ella’s flesh prickle. Something was wrong. She was suddenly very tired of surprises.

Ella led Justine away from the porch. She could feel her young cousin’s growing tension. When she was certain they were out of Ralph Ben’s hearing range, she stopped. “What’s going on?”

“I’ve got
bad news. The
hataalii,
Leonard Haske, was just found dead.”

It took a few seconds for the news to register over the sudden numbing of her brain. “You don’t mean from natural causes, do you?” Ella observed, her voice uneven.

“No. He was murdered, and it’s some sort of ritualistic thing, from the preliminary report I just got.”

“Where?”

“Near the Shiprock itself. I’m not sure about this, but
I think it’s at his family’s shrine. He was supposed to meet with someone he was training to take over for him someday, Vernon Kelewood. Do you know him?”

“Vaguely.”

As Justine started her vehicle, Ella placed the bubble on top of the car and switched on the siren. “Step on it. The way the clouds are building, I’m almost certain it’s going to rain this afternoon.”

The irony of such a crime
occurring near Shiprock, Tse’ Bit’a’i’ to the
Dineh,
passed through Ella’s mind. The dark igneous rock, once the throat of a volcano, stood over 1,450 feet above the floor of the desert. The massive geologic feature figured prominently in Navajo ceremonial lore.

In one story Monster Slayer hid on the mighty rock and killed two enormous bird-creatures who had been preying on the People. Later,
he turned the babies of the creatures into the eagle and the owl.

Shiprock itself had once been considered sacred too. Part of the Enemyway ceremony, which included rituals for protection and power, was performed near the rock. But when a Sierra Club climbing party profaned it in 1939, it could no longer be used in sacred rites. Ella wondered if the killer, or killers, knew this.

They arrived
forty minutes later. The trip would have taken closer to an hour if Justine hadn’t practically floored the accelerator until they left the main road. Ella glanced at the police officer who was standing alone at the scene, his back to the high volcanic wall or dike that projected from the desert floor. The massive structure was one of three ancient lava flows extending from the volcanic neck of Shiprock
like collapsed tripod legs. Officer Winston Atcitty looked as if he would have rather been anywhere else on earth than there.

Ella stepped out of Justine’s car, her gaze taking in the scene. As she walked closer, she saw that Haske’s body lay facedown near a cairn of rocks, halfway up the slope to the dike. This was, in turn, about fifteen yards from the dirt track that passed as a road. Blood
stained the ground around the body, having seeped from its back and legs. “Who found him?” she asked the officer.

“His apprentice, Vernon Kelewood. He’s with the family right now. The daughter took it badly.”

Ella nodded. “Did you call in the crime-scene unit?”

Officer Atcitty nodded. “They’re on the way.”

Ella glanced back and saw that Justine was already busy taking measurements and sketching
out the crime scene. “Stay here until we’re finished. I’ll be needing you to help us canvass the crime scene for evidence.”

As a breeze blew across the mesa, Ella gazed at the southeastern horizon. With luck, it wouldn’t rain for at least four more hours. But a breeze was coming up, and that meant evidence could be obscured or lost. “Work as fast as you can,” she told Justine as she approached
the body.

Ella crouched near the crudely sewn suede-cloth medicine pouch that lay near the victim’s right hand. Herbs of a type she didn’t readily recognize had been scattered about. She picked up a tiny piece of leaf and sniffed it. There was no scent she could make out.

Justine handed her an evidence bag. “We better get those secure right away, or the wind will carry them everywhere.”

Ella
studied the medicine pouch, mentally comparing it to the one she remembered Haske carrying. “This isn’t his, or if it is, it’s a new one. The one I saw him with had an ear of corn done in beadwork in its center. It was leather, and much better made.”

Justine pointed to the man’s waist. “Like that one?”

Ella moved closer, saw the large deerskin pouch partially beneath Haske’s side, and nodded.
“So what’s this other one doing here?” she mused, glancing back at it. “I think we better ask Vernon.”

“There’s no gunshot or stab wound, but it looks like someone smashed part of his skull and neck,” Justine said. “His legs are at a strange angle, too. I’ll bet they’re broken. I’ll be interested in Carolyn’s findings,” she said, mostly to herself.

“There’s no sign of a struggle, so either he
didn’t put up a fight or the body was moved.”

“It’s bad business,” Justine commented. “A
hataalii
maybe killed by another.” She gestured to the extra medicine pouch. “At least that’s what the killer wanted us to think.”

Ella studied faint tracks and a trail of dark clumps on the ground that could be blood. She noted there were only two sets of footprints. One obviously had come from the victim.
The other, she surmised, were probably Kelewood’s. She’d confirm that later.

“Someone spread sand over these marks and drops of blood. And take a look at the back of his shirt. There are small paint chips clinging to it. My guess is he was struck by a car, and then dragged here.”

Ella went to the road, searching for clues there. Someone had taken his time, because all tire tracks had been removed.
Yet Haske’s truck was still parked there, and its tracks led back up the road a ways. They disappeared where they had been mixed up with the killer’s vehicle. A few scattered clumps of blood and sand were at the edge of the area where the tracks had been swept away.

“I think he was struck by the killer’s vehicle right here. Then the body was dragged over to the shrine, and the extra pouch was
placed by his hand. Then the killer wiped out his tracks as he went back to the road,” Ella told Justine.

As Justine studied the evidence, Ella went directly to the car. She had to verify Peterson Yazzie’s whereabouts. A quick check confirmed that he was still at the psychiatric facility, locked in his room.

Ella walked back to Justine. “You take care of things here. Officer Atcitty will help
you out, and Tache and Ute should be arriving soon. I’ll take your vehicle and go talk to Vernon Kelewood. I also have to speak to the victim’s wife and family. I’ll be back as soon as possible.”

Ella drove down the road to the house where Haske had been living. Recriminations pounded in her brain. She should have done more to protect him, despite Haske’s annoyance at the prospect. Her instincts
had clearly warned her that he could be in danger.

She thought of his family and the sorrow they now had to bear. Her heart went out to them. She knew what it was like to face such a loss. To make matters even worse, his daughter had just had a baby. That child would never know its grandfather. Anger began to build inside her, and she fought against it, wanting to keep her thinking clear and
focused. For the second time in as many weeks, the life of a man who had so much to give to others had tragically ended. She wondered what the death would do to the tribe. Fear could spread like wildfire now. The balance between good and evil had suffered another blow.

When Ella pulled up at the house, Vernon Kelewood came out. Ella parked the vehicle and got out as Vernon approached. Although
he had been training to take Haske’s place someday, Ella could tell at a glance that he had little of the charisma his mentor had possessed. His head was bowed and his shoulders slumped as he walked, like a man defeated.

“I knew you would come here. I waited.”

“Tell me what you know, and what you saw today.”

“I went up there to meet the
hataalii.
He told me yesterday to come at sunrise and
plan on staying all day. I was to begin learning certain Songs of Blessing. He warned me that there was danger to everyone on the reservation. He told me that he’d warned you too.”

She saw the accusation in his gaze and forced herself not to flinch. “What else did he say? Did he mention being afraid of anyone in particular?”

“He was afraid for the People, not himself. The
hataalii
was aware
of the danger we all are facing. He spent his life benefiting others, yet when he needed help no one was there. Now he’s gone, and we are without his protection.”

Once again Ella heard an accusation in his tone. Refusing to allow herself to be distracted, she focused on the questions she needed to ask. “Tell me exactly what you saw when you arrived at the scene.”

“I saw his pickup but not him,
so I called out. He didn’t answer so I went looking for him.” He stared at the ground for a long moment. “I found him by the cairn of rocks. That’s his shrine.”

“Who else knew you would be meeting him there?”

“It was no secret. We’d both been at a Chapter House meeting last night, and I know we talked about it then. He mentioned to the others there how important it was to keep to the old ways
in these troubled times. He complained that the younger ones didn’t respect things like their own family shrines. There was even graffiti spray-painted in places that were holy to the
Dineh.
”

“Had your teacher ever mentioned taking on other apprentices?”

Vernon considered it. “I know he felt that we needed more Singers, and he was willing to teach. As far as I know though, no one had approached
him. Learning to be a Singer takes dedication and a lot of hard work. Just one of the Songs can take years to memorize. Rituals leave no room for mistakes. They’ve got to be done exactly right.”

“Was your teacher satisfied with your progress?” She knew Navajos were always reluctant to speak on behalf of others, but she figured she had to ask.

Vernon hesitated for several long moments. “I can’t
say for sure, but I will tell you this: A few months ago Duncan James came to talk to him. You know that he’s always wanted to be a Singer, but with his family and all, he just never went after it.” Vernon paused, and looked at the empty hogan. “Duncan asked to become an apprentice. I heard my teacher tell him he was much too busy with me, that I had showed remarkable progress, and he didn’t want
to divert his attention.”

Ella considered what Kelewood had said. “
Have
you shown remarkable progress?”

Vernon gave her a sheepish smile. “Yes, and no. He was satisfied with what I’d learned so far, but he never felt I was particularly bright or gifted. I think my teacher didn’t feel Duncan was suited to become a Singer, and used me as an excuse to refuse him.” Kelewood took a deep breath, then
let it out again with an audible sigh. “But I really don’t know for sure. All I’m doing is guessing.”

“Thanks, I appreciate the help you’ve given me.”

As she turned to walk back to Justine’s car, she heard running footsteps. Ella turned around and saw a young woman rushing toward her.

The woman stopped in front of Ella, facing her squarely. Her hair was tied back in a traditional bun at the
nape of her neck, and her black eyes shone with tears. “You knew there was danger. My father even did a Song over you for protection. But you did nothing to stop this.” Her voice cracked but she continued. “He came here to see his grandchildren, and now he’s gone. His death is on your hands.”

“I did offer him protection, but he wouldn’t allow me to do anything that would interfere with his duties
as
hataalii.
”

“He was stubborn. You should have insisted! My father paid with his life for your incompetence.” Tears streamed down her face. “Your family only brings sorrow and misery. I wish you’d all just leave!” She turned and ran back to the house.

Ella watched Haske’s daughter for a moment. She’d spoken out of grief, but the words were still hard to take. Ella was tired of having her family
take the blame for every bad thing that happened. These murders had nothing to do with them! Yet she also knew the futility of trying to defend herself against an accusation like that.

Frustrated, Ella went back to the car. She’d return to the crime scene and help out there. Then, after Haske’s family had had a bit more time to adjust, she’d return.

Ella drove back to Haske’s shrine. She went
around Officer Atcitty, who was studying vehicle tracks. Up ahead, she saw Carolyn was examining the body. Justine was helping Tache and Ute, making sure nothing was missed.

Ella went directly to Carolyn. “Anything noteworthy that you can tell me right now?”

“The killer left us his signature. Once again he’s marked the victim with a bone. This time I found it lodged inside the Singer’s mouth.”

“Human?”

“I doubt it. Probably cat again.”

“Cause of death?”

“A crushing blow to the skull. He was struck by a car, too, just prior to the lethal blow. From the level of impact on his body, I’m sure his assailant was driving a car rather than a truck. The main contact area was his spine, so I can tell you he wasn’t facing the vehicle when it made contact. Death wasn’t instantaneous. He was
still alive when he was dragged over here. Blood flowed from the lacerated skin around the spine, and soaked the ground. Had he been dead, there would have been no blood flow.”

“Thanks, Carolyn.” Ella left her and went up to Justine. “Have you got anything for me?”

“Not yet,” Justine reported. “Any theories on what went down here?”

Ella thought about it for a minute before answering. “The killer
must have known the victim was coming here, or else followed him. Either way, it was premeditated. The victim undoubtedly heard the vehicle, and hadn’t been afraid of its approach because he stayed on the road. Possibly he recognized the driver or the car and didn’t feel threatened. Or maybe the car slowed down, as if to stop, then sped up at the last second. Either way, by the time the
hataalii
realized the driver’s intentions, it was too late.”