Michael McGarity - Serpent Gate

"How interesting. Is this information reliable?"

"It comes right from the governor's chief of security, a state police captain."

"Police make such excellent informants. The gentleman you introduced me to in the lobby. Tell me about him."

"Pletcher? He's local color. He's a very successful artist, collected on a national level."

"Does he own property in Rancho Caballo?"

"Not as far as I know. He lives near the Roundhouse, in one of the older neighborhoods. He was probably someone's dinner guest."

"I did not like the degree of interest he showed in me. Who are his friends?"

Bucky chuckled.

"Every queen, queer, transvestite, and transsexual in Santa Pc. The latest Fletcher story I heard is that he has a gay cop living with him."

"Really?"

"I don't know who it is. But knowing Fletcher, he's probably young and good-looking."

"He sounds harmless," De Leon noted, glancing at his wristwatch.

Bucky took the cue, stood up, and smiled at his boss.

"I'll stay in touch," he said.

"Make sure that you do."

Bucky left the bar feeling mined. Working for De Leon had made him a rich man, but he didn't have to like the son of a bitch's condescending attitude. aftbr learning a bit more about Amanda Talley, Gilbert Martinez believed his hunch about Roger Springer and his after-hours trysts with women at the governor's office deserved to be tested. Although it was fairly late, lights burned inside Roger Springer's house.

Gilbert was pleased; he had timed the visit to catch Springer away from the office and off guard, if possible.

He stopped his unit next to a BMW in the driveway, and exterior floodlights controlled by motion sensors immediately switched on.

Average in size by neighborhood standards, the house was situated off Gonzales Road in the foothills, with Santa Fe aglow below it, spreading haphazardly across the valley floor.

A round structure low to the ground, the home seemed anchored to the hillside. The curved walls had large windows and doors separated by buttresses, and all the rooms appeared to open onto a semicircular patio. Gilbert found his way to double glass doors that allowed him to see into a sunken living room. A fireplace glowed in the center of the room, and a wine bottle and two glasses were on a coffee table in front of a couch.

No one was in sight, so he knocked and waited, his attention drawn back to the dtyscape below. He could remember a time when except for the highway strip into town, Santa Pc stopped at the private college on St.

Michaels Drive. Now the profusion of city lights ran for miles past the college and washed out the night sky.

He looked through the double glass doors just as Roger Springer yanked one open. Wearing a terry-doth robe and a waspish expression. Springer ran a hand through his rumpled hair and gave Gilbert an irritated look.

"What is it. Sergeant?"

"I have a few questions, Mr. Springer. May I come in?"

"At this hour?"

"Only for a minute."

Springer nodded brusquely and stood aside. Gilbert stepped into a wide arched foyer that opened onto the living room. Recessed lights along the back wall of the living room accentuated an arrangement of paintings and lithographs above a stereo sound system on a low, built-in bookcase.

"What questions do you have?" Springer asked as he closed the door.

He made no gesture for Gilbert to move into the living room.

"I understand you're a friend of Amanda Talley."

"I know Amanda."

"You were with her at the O'Keeffe benefit, I believe."

"I was hardly with her, Sergeant."

"But you saw her there," Gilbert countered.

"We had a drink together with several other people."

"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.