CHAPTER 21
Manny pulled into the
parking lot just as Willie emerged from the OST police building. “I
was coming to hunt you up, but we can jaw inside.”
Manny followed him
through the locked door and into the empty break room. Willie shut
the door and shuffled to the coffeepot. Empty. He scrunched his
nose at the burnt coffee in the bottom of the pot before putting it
back on the burner. He turned a chair around and sat facing Manny.
“I talked with Aunt Lizzy, but I don’t feel very good about it.” He
looked down. The guilt Willie held inside made the room feel as
heavy as a low-flying summer storm cloud.
“Did she tell you
about Clifford Coyote?”
“She did. I just
can’t figure why I didn’t see some of this.”
“What?”
“There never was a
Clifford Coyote.”
“We knew that, but we
didn’t know why the ruse.”
“After the Two Moons
murder, Jumping Bull took the name Coyote out of fear of being
killed next. Jumping Bull was Aunt Lizzy’s cousin from Crow Creek.
When she moved out here after she married Reuben, she got Jumping
Bull his first place to stay here in Pine Ridge, and tried to
recruit him into AIM right after that Custer takeover
fiasco.”
“But he never made
the grade.”
“How’d you
know?”
Manny forced a smile.
“There are some things I recall about those days. For one thing, a
man had to be a warrior, or be considered a warrior by some
convoluted standards in order to be accepted by the others and
allowed to join. From what Chief Horn said, Jumping Bull was
anything but. He was just a drunk and a petty thief.”
“Anyway, Jumping Bull
fled after Reuben killed Billy Two Moons.”
“Then he was
blackmailing Jason?”
Willie nodded.
“Jumping Bull knew that Jason paid Billy Two Moons to kill his
parents.”
“How did he
know?”
“Two Moons and he
were partying on the money Jason shelled out to rig that car wreck
with the Red Clouds. When Reuben found the car that night in China
Gulch, Jumping Bull hid in the backseat, because he knew Reuben
would have him killed, too. But before he fled to Minneapolis,
Jumping Bull also told Aunt Lizzy what he knew. At first, he was
content to just be alive and gone from the rez. Then he got greedy
and started blackmailing Jason. Aunt Lizzy felt like Reuben did,
that Jason sold out for the almighty dollar rather than stay in the
movement with the other AIM brothers. She was happy to help Jumping
Bull bleed some of that Red Cloud money from Jason.”
“You believe
that?”
Willie nodded. “It’s
what she told me.”
“Chief Horn said that
Two Moons did mechanic work for the police when he was in jail, and
on his own when he was out. He could have made the wreck appear as
if the brake lines had ruptured, to make it look like an
accident.”
Willie nodded again.
“Jason’s lackluster performance with the family business
disappointed his parents. The year after Jason graduated college
and started working for them, he lost the company’s clients tons of
money. The Red Clouds didn’t want their business pissed away, and
tasked their corporate attorney to deed their assets to the tribe
when they died.”
“That new car Two
Moons drove the night he was murdered,” Manny said. “That’s how
someone without a pot to pee in managed a new
Chrysler.”
Willie walked to the
vending machine. “You’re right on there,” he called over his
shoulder. “The new car was Two Moons’s payment for rigging the
wreck.” When the machine spit out a MoonPie, Willie returned to his
seat.
“And Elizabeth
despised Jason enough that she kept Jumping Bull’s whereabouts
secret all those years?”
Willie nodded. “When
she was in AIM and WARN, the thing she hated the most was the
status quo. Jason’s hiring Two Moons to kill his parents for
control of the family business got to working on her. She knew she
could turn in Jason at any time, but she thought it would hurt him
more to be bled dry all those years.”
“But things went
south for Jason. Clara showed me a letter. Jumping Bull was fixing
to pull the plug on his long-distance relationship with the ‘Donald
Trump of the West.’ ”
Willie nodded. “Aunt
Lizzy confirmed what Clara told you, that Jason ran the business
into the ground. He had a string of mediocre properties mixed with
some that fell flat. He spent money like there was no tomorrow—or
no yesterday to catch up with him. He bought Lakota antiquities he
couldn’t afford, and something had to give. So Jason thought that
he could cut off his blackmail money to Jumping Bull, that after
all those years no one would believe him if he implicated Jason in
masterminding the car wreck that killed his parents.”
“But that letter
called Jason’s bluff.”
Willie nibbled on the
outside edges of his MoonPie. “Jumping Bull sent Jason that letter
threatening to expose him. He became obsessed about finding his
address, and charmed information out of the new girl at the post
office. He learned that Aunt Lizzy received Jumping Bull’s monthly
checks in Pine Ridge under Clifford Coyote’s name, and figured Aunt
Lizzy was Jumping Bull’s go-between. He snuck into her office one
night a few weeks ago and tried finding Jumping Bull’s
address.”
“The argument that
Lumpy walked in on.” Manny stood and reached for his pack of
cigarettes, but his pocket was empty. A Camel used to help him sort
things out, like an obnoxious yet trusted friend at his side.
“Lumpy said file drawers were strewn all over. Jason and Lizzy
arguing fiercely. Did Jason find the address that
night?”
“Now she thinks he
did, and she’s carrying a powerful amount of guilt because she
didn’t warn Jumping Bull that Jason might know his address in
Minneapolis.”
Willie looked at his
empty MoonPie wrapper, turned it over, read the nutrition facts.
The young officer had matured with his interview of Elizabeth, but
Manny had one last question that needed answering. “Did you ask her
about Jason’s murder? If she could kill me, she could kill him,
too.”
Willie dropped his
eyes and stared at the floor. “She told me she didn’t know anything
about Jason’s death, even though she hated him enough that she
could have killed him. She knew all about his embezzlement of the
tribe’s money and how he would implicate Erica if he was caught.
Sure, she could have killed him, with considerable pleasure. But I
don’t think she did.” Willie looked away. Manny knew Willie didn’t
believe his aunt was in the clear on Jason’s death.
Manny put his fingers
together, building a tent with them, as he often did when things
came together in an investigation. He thought of his suspect
list—when Lumpy blocked the doorway. He was backlit by the bright
hall light, and he still had a fading purple stain on his right
cheek from the thief powder. Manny swallowed down a
smile.
“You think this is
funny?” Lumpy said. “It’ll be on my skin for a month.”
“A week,” Manny said.
“A week is more like it.”
“How do you know
that?”
“It’s what I remember
when we used it back in the day, remember?”
Lumpy ignored him and
tossed a manila envelope on the table between Manny and Willie.
“FedEx overnight. Must be important.”
It was from the FBI
lab in Quantico. Manny left it unopened on the table.
“Thanks.”
Lumpy stood waiting
for Manny to open the envelope. When he didn’t, Lumpy started to
leave, then turned back. “Before I forget, Hotshot, your boss
called.”
“And?”
“He didn’t say much,
but he seemed to get pretty upset when I told him you were in Rapid
City visiting your girlfriend.”
Manny could argue
that Clara was not his girlfriend, but Lumpy probably didn’t know
about Clara and was referring to Sonja. “What did Niles
want?”
“Not sure,” Lumpy
answered. “All he said is: ‘Two days. Things start in two days, you
tell Manny Tanno that.’ And what the hell did you tell Nathan
Yellow Horse when he interviewed you?”
“Why?”
“He left in a damned
hurry. Didn’t say a word, just brushed past me.”
“Oh, I just hinted at
some places where he might begin his story.”
Manny waited until
the sound of Lumpy’s footsteps died down then propped his feet up
on another chair and waited for Willie to continue. Elizabeth had
told Willie more, and he was anxious to get it off his
chest.
“Aunt Lizzy still has
a thing for Reuben,” he said. “She got used to them being a couple,
got comfortable being the woman of a local celebrity, even if he
was a violent AIM celebrity. I think she protected him as much as
she protected Erica.”
Willie reached into
his briefcase and took out a bundle of letters held tight by a
single deer-hide thong. Willie started untying the bundle when he
dropped the letters. They scattered on the floor. “Pick one, any
one, they’re all alike.”
Manny grabbed one
postmarked SOUTH DAKOTA STATE PENITENTIARY, SIOUX FALLS, MARCH OF
1989.
“They’re all dated
that way, up until Reuben was paroled from the penitentiary.”
Willie pulled up a chair and sat beside Manny. “I’ll spare you
reading them. Aunt Lizzy and Reuben never actually broke up, even
after the murder. They were corresponding all those years he was in
the lockup. And they’ve been intimate. They were divorced on paper
only.”
“How’d you find
these?”
“Aunt Lizzy asked me
to pack her some clothes for her stay at the state hospital. I
found these in Reuben’s old Marine footlocker in her bedroom
closet.”
Manny picked up
several letters, all sent during Reuben’s incarceration in the
South Dakota State Penitentiary.
“She hid her love for
him all these years because folks wouldn’t have trusted a finance
officer who was involved with a convicted killer, especially one
with Reuben’s reputation. And she added one thing when I asked her
about Jason’s funding Erica’s college: She said Jason felt bad
about Reuben going to the pen. She said that Jason loved Erica like
she was his own daughter, and that Reuben knew from the beginning
that Jason intended paying her way through college.”
“But Reuben just
found out about it within the past few years.”
Willie shook his
head. “She was quite adamant that Reuben knew it from the start,
even if he told you different.”
“That’s just one more
thing I will talk to Reuben about,” Manny said. “Now let’s see what
Quantico has to say.”
He used his penknife
to open the manila envelope overnighted from the FBI lab. As he
watched Willie waiting expectantly to see the contents, Manny felt
like one of those Academy Award presenters about to read the
winner’s name. He pulled the lab slip out. “The ID section was
unable to come up with a match between the latents lifted from
Crazy George’s car and those of Jack Little Boy. Little Boy’s got
six points on each finger, at the most.”
“How could that be?”
Willie asked. He scooted his chair close and took the report.
“Everyone has at least twelve points.”
“Not if you’re a
mason. Little Boy’s been bricklaying for the last eight years,
according to his rap sheet. Eight years of constantly rubbing his
hands against brick and mortar will erode
fingerprints.”
“Then he could be
Jason’s killer. There was only partial prints found on the war club
along with Ricky Bell’s. We thought at first they were smudged
prints, but they could have been Little Boy’s.”
Manny nodded. “And we
can’t use even the partials if Little Boy is our man.”
He picked up the
other sheet. The crime lab had failed to locate Reuben’s
fingerprints. The sheet suggested they contact the South Dakota
State Penitentiary.
“Jeeza! How could
Reuben’s prints not be on file? He’s a felon.”
“Sealed, would be my
guess. The Special Task Force on Organized Crime investigated AIM
heavily in the 1970s. The Tenth Federal Appeals Court ruled they’d
been unjustly targeted by the government, and most of their records
were sealed. But that didn’t apply to state courts. I’ll call the
state pen later and have them fax over Reuben’s print
card.”
He returned that
paper to the envelope and grabbed the last one. And whistled. “The
.45 slugs Soske had sent to the lab from the Two Moons homicide
matched that old cavalry Colt I seized from Jason’s
office.”
Willie read the lab
report over Manny’s shoulder. “Let me get this straight: Billy Two
Moons was killed with the same gun Ricky Bell used to kill Alex
Jumping Bull?”
“Looks like
it.”
“But Reuben told
investigators he tossed the gun after he killed Two Moons. How did
Jason get Reuben’s gun?”
“Good question.
Apparently, Reuben lied about tossing his gun, too.”
They sat, each lost
in his own thoughts, until Willie broke the silence. “You know
you’ll have to talk with Reuben again.”
Manny nodded.
“Tomorrow afternoon,” he said. “Clara’s coming down in the morning,
and we’re driving to Chadron for breakfast. I’ll talk to Reuben
when I get back. But for now, all I want to do is get some
shut-eye.”
“She forgave you
after that article came out?”
“Finally,” Manny
answered. “It took some work to convince Clara that Sonja Myers set
me up for that photo op at the Rapid City bistro. I never had a
woman get jealous over me.”
“How’d you explain
all the messages from Sonja on your cell phone?”
Manny shrugged. “I
told the truth. I said Sonja called but I never talked with
her.”
“But you did, just
yesterday.”
Manny smiled. “I had
to tell Sonja about my exclusive interview with Nathan Yellow
Horse, and that your lieutenant had more information on the case
than I could give out.”
After Manny finished
stretching his hamstrings, he cracked the door and peered out into
the night. The single streetlight near his apartment burned yellow,
and he was careful to throw the new deadbolt on his apartment door.
His beginning pace was slower than usual, but he was able to work
through the pain in his ribs. When he hit stride at just over a
mile, the sweat drenched his sweatshirt. He had hit his zone, and
he needed to think.
Tomorrow Elizabeth
would be driven to the state hospital in Yankton where she would
undergo evaluation to determine her fitness to stand trial. Would
Reuben interfere? Would his love for Elizabeth overrun his love for
his brother and result in his killing the one person who could
testify against Elizabeth and send her away? Manny doubted that,
but seeing Reuben’s anger flare yesterday, he knew the man was
still capable of bad intentions.
A dog barked from a
house up ahead and Manny strained to see in the blackness. What
would Reuben’s motives have been for killing Jason? If he were
dealing with the Reuben of the American Indian Movement days, he’d
think hatred of the status quo was enough reason. But this was the
Reuben who had served his time in prison, had somehow found the
Lakota way, and now advised people in spiritual matters. Had Reuben
been that jealous of Jason to think that Elizabeth was having an
affair with him? Again, this was a different Reuben, yet still like
the old Reuben in many ways.
Manny rounded the
block on his last stretch to his apartment. Sweat flowed from every
pore, and he had forgotten the pain in his side from the bruised
ribs. He fumbled inside his sweatshirt pocket for the key while he
slowed to a walk to catch his breath.
And stopped and
listened.
The streetlight in
front of his apartment was out, and he stepped on broken glass. He
crouched low, crunching glass where someone had broken the light.
Willing his breathing to slow, his heart to quit racing, he
hunkered down at the base of the streetlight, straining,
listening.
Footsteps grated on
gravel between his apartment building and the next one. Manny took
in deep, calming breaths as someone neared, and the glint of a
blade reflected light from the apartment window above
Desirée’s.
The figure wore a
hoodie, but there was no mistaking Jack Little Boy by the way he
filled out the sweatshirt, by the way he held his knife out in
front of him. Like a predator, Jack picked his way cautiously in
Manny’s direction, but Manny noiselessly circled the base of the
streetlight. Jack’s head swiveled, trying to locate him, but Manny
hadn’t been raised a victim. Jack searched aimlessly in the dark,
unsure exactly where Manny was.
The knife scraped
against the metal base of the light and Manny drew his legs beneath
him. How long had it been since he wrestled another man? High
school? He was grateful for that, and for the custody control
classes the bureau required agents to attend annually.
Jack looked away and
Manny saw his opening. He pushed off from the base of the light and
sprang from his crouch. His first blow slapped the knife away and
it clattered somewhere on the sidewalk a heartbeat before Manny
found Jack’s neck with his forearm. His other hand slipped around
to lock in a sleeper hold, one that would put the much bigger man
out for the count. If he’d cooperate. Jack turned to Manny and dug
his elbow deep into his injured ribs. The blow threatened to do
what the stolen truck could not, and Manny lost his grip as he
rolled away in pain. Jack reached down, clawing at Manny’s throat.
Manny brought his knee up and connected with Jack’s nose. Blood
spurted over Manny’s face and got into his eyes. Jack screamed, and
Manny hit him on the side of the head before Jack disappeared into
the darkness.
Manny fumbled for his
apartment key and half crawled to the door. For all the bad vibes
he had gotten from Desirée since he’d been back here, he wished she
were looking out her apartment window now, wishing she would dial
911.