“And then, Sergeant, he starts to talk.” Jefferson settled back in the chair, his face grim. “Only thing you gotta understand about Hil, Sergeant, is that paper he wrote forty years ago on human settlement in the Bay made him. He got wrote up everywhere, he was on television when most of the people watching couldn’t have understood one word in ten he said, he won some shovelbum award. They give him that.”

He pointed at the cane. Liam followed his eyes and for the first time saw the tiny rectangle of brass screwed to the handle’s brace. It was inscribed with Houten’s name and a date and the words “For Distinguished Archeological Achievement.”

“It never left his hand after that, whether his arthritis was giving him a bad time or not,” Jefferson said. “His reputation was made and all the resource companies wanted him on retainer for his bona fide expert opinion on how none of the places they wanted to dig or drill would have any impact on the Alaska Native culture or ever had any importance in Alaska Native history. He never had to do another lick of real work, just opine. Hil was fucking great with opinions that sounded authoritative enough to shut down every greenie and tree hugger who raised a voice in opposition.” He shook his head. “He was something back in the day, before he got old. Before we all got old.”

“So when Erik Berglund came along this year, promising to refute all of Houten’s findings…”

Jefferson gave a curt not. “I figured it was professional jealousy, and hell, look at the two of them. One was on his way out, old, obstinate, opinionated, had no truck with or respect for the Sugpiaq. The other grew up on the other side of the Bay smack damn in the middle of them, young, smart, familiar with all the new scientific techniques or what the fuck ever, had a relationship with UNESCO and was threatening to pitch them on making the Bay a World Heritage Site or some goddamn such.” He rolled his eyes. “I don’t think there’s a hope in hell of that ever happening and I don’t think Erik did, either, but it’s what they was arguing about at Gabe’s party. Man was nice enough to give us a front row seat to the next blockbuster months before anyone else was going to get to see it and these two yahoos are ruining the party. I think Erik just wanted to poke the bear. They shut up when I went over to shut them up.”

“And after the party?”

Jefferson’s jaw tightened. “Hil wanted to wait for Erik to come out so he could finish the argument. Nothing I could say to talk him out of it. By the time Erik come out everyone else had gone. Hil got out of my pickup and started yelling. Erik laughed at him and turned his back and walked in the direction of the trail head. Hil went after him, thumping along with his cane. It was dark enough by then that I give it only a couple of minutes before I went after him. I found him standing alone at the trail head, leaning on that cane and vibrating like a shaker table on a gold dredge. Erik was nowhere to be seen. Hil said he’d gone down the trail, was going to sleep at the dig. So we went back to the harbor and bunked on my boat, and went home the next morning.”