Joseph Kanon - Los Alamos

Holliday raised his eyebrows. “Then why move him?”

“I don’t know. Maybe they didn’t want you snooping around, just in case somebody did see something. No crime, no questions. People don’t volunteer, do they?”

“Not much.”

“And they didn’t want him found.”

“So they move him to the center of town.”

Connolly sighed. “Yes.”

“Damnedest thing, isn’t it? You roll a guy, and instead of running away you take him away. All right. You don’t want him found-put a little distance between you and the law. So you’ve got all of God’s country around here, you can just drop him off somewhere in the woods and let the coyotes have him. But you don’t. You take him right back into town, where you know he’s going to be found. And then you take his ID, everything, so he’s not exactly found. Nobody knows who he is. Sounds like you can’t make up your mind one way or the other.”

“Go on,” Connolly said quietly, watching him.

“Now you take Mr. Kelly here. That’s a whole lot of trouble for him to go to. He’s more what I’d call the careless type. Love ’em and leave ’em. Don’t think he’d bother much about covering his tracks. He’d just get the hell out.”

“We know it’s not him,” Connolly said impatiently.

“And it’s not anybody like him either.”

Connolly looked up at him. “Meaning?”

“Meaning I don’t think he was rolled. I think it was somebody he knew. Or anyway who knew him.”

“That’s what I’ve been saying all along.”

Holliday grinned. “I never said you were dumb. Just an arrogant son of a bitch.”

“So why would whoever it was want him to be found?”

“Well, he was going to be, wasn’t he? You don’t just lose a security officer in a top secret government base. They’d be all over the place. In fact, you were.”

“So we’re back to square one. Why move him?”

Holliday lit another cigarette, taking his time. “Well, I’ve been giving that a little thought. And what occurs to me is how he was found. See, we don’t know him from Adam-all we got is a victim. You find a body in the desert, you got a real mystery on your hands. San Isidro? Well, what would he be doing there? But the way we did find him, there was no mystery about that. You get the picture right away. What you got there is kind of an embarrassment. You don’t want to look into that too closely-you never know what you’re going to find when you turn that rock over. You just want to clean it up. The army wouldn’t want to go looking for pretty boys. They’d be squeamish about that. He just thought they’d sweep it away.”

“And now they will.”

Holliday shrugged. “I have to say, I’ll bet he never figured on old Ramon. That’s just another example of how the Good Lord looks after his sinners.”

“So where do we go from here?”

“Like I said, this case is closed. I can give you the benefit of my wisdom-that just comes from being in the business. But Hendron finds out I’m conducting an illegal investigation and he’ll have my ass. He can do it, too.”

“Not if you blow the whistle on him first.”

“Forget it,” Holliday said. “Not me. Not you either. He’s got a signed confession, and you don’t have much more than a theory about a parking lot and a few pieces of goddamn turquoise. That’s not just sticking your neck out, that’s handing him the ax. So right now it’s his show and there’s not a damn thing we can do about it. Hendron’s the kind of guy, if we were in combat you wouldn’t be surprised if he got shot in the back. One bullet and out and nobody’d look twice. To save themselves, you know. But we don’t do that here yet. Maybe you ought to use some of your contacts in Washington and get the bastard drafted. Let him go push the Japs around.” He ground out his cigarette, finished with the conversation. “But I guess he’s too valuable keeping the peace at home. Something for our boys to come back to.”

Connolly was silent for a minute. “What about the car?”

“The car?” Holliday said, looking up, intrigued.

“You still need to find the car.”

Holliday smiled. “Well, you know, a missing vehicle is another story. Strictly speaking, it’s not part of this case at all.”

“Unless you find it.”

“Well, we have to find it first. Plenty of time to worry about that.”

“Thanks, Doc.”

Holliday looked at him. “This isn’t anything. Just a missing car.”

“Thanks anyway. You’ll sleep better. I guarantee it.”

“Don’t go giving me too much credit. I sleep pretty good now.”

“You’d think they’d want to know,” Connolly said, shaking his head. “I mean, don’t they care that whoever killed Bruner is still out there somewhere?”

“Well, you know, they probably should, but to them it’s just some fairy fight. Don’t matter. The thing is, nobody’s ever really cared about this except you.”

“I can’t now,” Oppenheimer said, coming out of the building. “I’m already late. I’m flying to Washington. Can’t it wait?”

“No.”

“Ride with me to Albuquerque if you like,” he said, nodding to the driver, who held the door for him.

“I’ve just come from Albuquerque. Two minutes.”

“Then ride with me to the gate. I really am late. Just like the White Rabbit.” He smiled, climbing into the car as if it were the hole in the tree. Connolly followed.

“Bad news?” Oppenheimer said as they passed the Tech Area.

“That depends on how you look at it. I thought you should know. The police in Albuquerque have arrested someone.”

“Splendid. Anybody we know?”

“No. Some kid who knifed a guy down there a few weeks ago. They got him to confess to both crimes.”

“Poor Bruner,” Oppenheimer said indifferently, his mind clearly elsewhere. “Well, it’s a relief in a way, isn’t it? One less thing to worry about.” He looked up when Connolly didn’t answer. “Isn’t it?”

Connolly shook his head and nodded toward the driver, a slight fair-haired soldier, but Oppenheimer waved his hand.

“He’s the wrong man.”

“Do you know that?”

“Yes.”

“Do they?”

“Maybe. They don’t care.”

“I don’t understand.”

“He killed their man. He didn’t kill Karl. But it suits them to wrap it all up, I guess. Neat and tidy. Anyway, they’re doing it.”

“You said they had a confession?”

“He’s lying. It wouldn’t hold up for five minutes in court.”

Oppenheimer looked at him, frankly puzzled.

“But no one’s going to challenge it. The police want to believe it, and Kelly-that’s the guy-wants them to believe it. He thinks he’s making a deal.”

Oppenheimer took this in. “What are you going to do?”

“Nothing. There’s nothing we can do. But I wanted you to know. It’ll be in the papers. Are you seeing Groves? He’ll want to know. He’ll want to believe it.”

They had reached the gate, and Oppenheimer asked the driver to pull over. “What exactly do you want me to tell him?”

“That I’m continuing our investigation and you support it.”

“Do I?”

“Yes, if you want to get to the bottom of this. Of course, you can go along with the police and send me back to Washington.”

Oppenheimer smiled. “Oh, I’m in no hurry to do that. I rather like playing Dr. Watson.” He hesitated. “Do I understand that you’re seriously suggesting there’s a miscarriage of justice—”

“It wouldn’t be the first time.”

“And we’re not going to do a thing about it?”

“Not now. What do we get by that? Officially, Karl was rolled in the park having sex with a street thug. Case closed. Theirs, anyway.”