Читаем Los Alamos полностью

“Why. Why. He asked me, I suppose. I’m easy. You ought to know.”

They glared at each other.

“Tell me,” he said quietly.

She broke the stare, looking down to rub out her cigarette. “Last year. A few times. It didn’t mean anything.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Maybe I didn’t want you to think I was that kind of girl.”

“Where?”

“Where?” she said, exasperated. “Places. There are places, you know.”

“Santa Fe?”

“Nowhere we’ve been, if that’s what you want to know,” she said angrily. “Someplace on the road to Albuquerque. Look, it happened. I can’t help that. It was over. What do the details matter? You’ve no right.”

“Yes, I do. Did you love him?”

“Stop it.”

“Did you?”

“Of course I didn’t bloody love him. We had sex. I enjoyed it. I didn’t enjoy it. Is that what you want to hear? Anyway, it stopped. I didn’t want Daniel to know. I was afraid.”

“You’re not afraid of anything.”

“I’m afraid of you,” she said, then looked away. “You want too much. ‘Tell me everything. Where did you go? Did you enjoy it? Were you ashamed?’ All angry and wounded, as if it had anything to do with you. I didn’t even know you. It had nothing to do with anybody, really. Except him. And then later he was killed. What did you want me to do, run over and tell everybody in security that we’d been having it off in some motel down the road? I was relieved. I thought nobody would ever know.”

“And it didn’t matter that there was a murder investigation?”

“Why should it? I didn’t know anything about that.”

“Even when they said it was a homosexual murder.”

She looked stunned. “What are you talking about?”

“They thought Karl was homosexual. They still do. They convicted a man because they thought it.”

“But why?” she said, bewildered. “That’s crazy. He wasn’t that.”

“You never told them otherwise.”

She shook her head, confused and angry. “That’s not fair. I never knew. You never told me, come to that. He was killed in the park-that’s all I ever heard. A robbery. Why would anyone think-” She trailed off, still trying to digest it.

“You’re sure.”

“What do you want to know?” she snapped. “What we did in bed? Is that part of the investigation? It was lovely, all right? Maybe he thought I was a boy. How would I know? It didn’t feel that way to me.”

“Emma, whoever killed him tried to make it look like that kind of crime. Probably so we wouldn’t look anywhere else. He succeeded. There was no reason to think otherwise, no-history. Until now. That’s why I had to know. That’s all.”

“Is it? Is that what this is about? I only went to bed with him, you know. I didn’t kill him.”

He turned away from her, squinting into the sun, his voice toneless and quick as he questioned her. “Did you go to Santa Fe with him that night?”

“No, of course not. It was over long before that.”

“Did you ever go to San Isidro?”

“No. Yes, I suppose so, when I first came here. Everybody does. Oh, what does it matter? Stop this.”

“I can’t.”

“You mean you won’t. You’re putting me on trial. For what? Did I hurt your feelings? Well, I’m sorry.”

“This isn’t about us.”

She was biting her bottom lip. “Isn’t it? I thought it was.”

“Emma,” he said patiently, “he wasn’t killed, he was murdered. That means there was a reason. It’s important. You’ve got to help me.”

She looked at him, disconcerted by his tone. “What do you want me to do? Tell the police I slept with him? That they’ve made a mistake?”

“No. It wouldn’t make any difference. They don’t care.”

She stared at him for a minute, taking this in. “But you do.”

“I just want to know.”

“No, that’s when you were just a cop. Now you’re judge and jury as well. I’ve told you-isn’t that enough? I went with him. I’ve done it before. You weren’t the first.”

“Why him?”

“I don’t know. He was good-looking. Maybe I was bored. It just happened. Is that so hard for you to believe?”

“Yes.”

“Why? Does it disappoint you? Did you think I was better than that?”

“It wasn’t like that,” he said evenly, sure now. “It didn’t just happen.”

“How would you know? Oh, you think you know something. You don’t know anything. Leave me alone.”

She turned to walk away but he grabbed her arm, bringing her back and holding her. “You’re lying to me again.”

“Leave me alone.”

“Just a casual fling? With Karl? No. Karl wasn’t like that. He liked to know things, that’s what he cared about. He knew something about you. So you slept with him. Because he made you. Or maybe it was your idea, to keep him quiet. That’s what happened, isn’t it? Was it your idea?”

“Leave me alone,” she shouted, pulling her arm free and moving away from him.

“What was it, Emma?” he said to her back. “What was so important that you’d do that? Did you give him money too, or was the motel enough?”

But she was walking away from him. “Go to hell,” she said. The low wall of the kiva stopped her and she stood against the piled stones looking down the canyon, not crying but heaving gulps of air. Connolly moved toward her slowly, afraid a quick movement would make her bolt. When he spoke his voice was gentle, soothing a startled horse.