Al shook his head, lowered the Colt and eased the hammer forward. The door opened behind Joe, and Augustino returned alone. Al laughed. “You were right,” he told Augustino, “it’s going to take a while after this war to get things back to normal.”

Augustino looked at the gun. “Out,” he told Al.

“I was just—”

“Out, both of you.”

While the cowboys slipped past Joe and through the door, Augustino sat on the map. He took a cigarette from a case, lit up and sighed.

“Fun and games, fun and games, Sergeant. Not to be taken seriously. A pair of drifters like that, if they weren’t employed by the government they’d be in a soup line. At least they can stay on a horse, which is more than we can say for the Military Police. Sometimes I think we have the Dead End Kids in uniform.” His gaze shifted to the door and the car waiting outside. “She says she asked you to drive her around. She says you were a courteous chauffeur all day and all night. Dr. Oppenheimer says he sent you back to check on the dancers. Everyone’s covering for you, Sergeant.”

“Yes, sir.”

The captain removed his cap, setting a tone of informality. In the light of the bulb, his eyes were deepset and hidden. His narrow cheeks had a faint blue sheen. Hair crept from his cuffs to the back of his hands.

“You know, Sergeant, the incident between Fuchs and your medicine man sounds to me like a classic misunderstanding between races. Now you’re Dr. Oppenheimer’s unofficial liaison with the pueblo. I can understand how you wanted to settle the problem quietly. But I hear that on Sunday, after you left Fuchs, you were looking for me. Did you find me?”

“No, sir.”

“You were told I was up on Bathtub Row. You looked for me there?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Who did you see there?”

“No one was home, sir.”

“And after that you didn’t look for me anymore?”

“Slipped my mind, sir.”

Augustino shook his head like an overburdened confessor.

“Sergeant, I think you’ve gone over the edge. You allow Fuchs to be assaulted with a gun. You couldn’t overpower a blind man, but you do attack an officer of the Indian Service? You in an Indian dance? You! I’ll tell you, Sergeant, tonight you were already back in the hole at Leavenworth and deeper than ever. You were buried until you drove up in that car.”

Joe followed the captain’s eyes to the Plymouth. “Sir?”

“Racing up and down the highways today, I went through Esperanza. I saw that coupe in a motel courtyard. I know all the cars on the Hill, and I made a note of the license and the time.”

“We may have stopped there for coffee, sir.”