“Not that I recall. She kept pleading with me to do everything I could to save him. She seemed more concerned than his wife was.”

“But she didn’t say anything about an alibi?”

“Alibi?” Kendrick smiled ruefully. “What’s she been handing you?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Watchman said. “Right now the point is Joe seems to think he’s got a grievance. He’s got his hands on a long-distance magnum rifle with a ’scope sight and I believe he thinks he’s got a reason to use it on somebody. I’d like to find out who his target is before it’s too late.”

“I doubt I can help you.”

Watchman studied him. “It’s not the kind of thing you can hold back out of professional ethics or statutory privilege. Not any more. If you know anything about this you might save somebody’s life by telling me what it is.”

Kendrick’s mouth twisted a little. He twined his fingers together and studied the design they made. “I don’t know who Joe might have a grudge against. It could be anybody.”

Watchman said, “All right. Try another one. Where did Maria Threepersons get the money she was living on?”

Kendrick frowned. “What made you ask me that?”

“What made you freeze?”

Victorio’s dark eyes shifted toward Kendrick with new interest. Watchman knew he had something.

Kendrick’s long fingers fanned the air by his chest. Finally he said, “The money came from me.”

7.

“If this thing blows up it’ll come out in the end anyway,” Kendrick went on. “You’d find out I signed the checks.”

Victorio was watching him with obvious bewilderment. Kendrick waved his sinuous hands at them both. “The money was put in trust for Maria Threepersons. I was the executor of the trust. Now that she’s dead I suppose it dissolves and goes back to the original donor.”

“I want his name,” Watchman said.

“I can’t give you that. Under the terms of the trust I’m expressly forbidden to divulge that. I’m sorry.”

“Then get in touch with him. Tell him to come forward.”

“I doubt that would do any good.”

“If Joe knows who it is, he may have a rifle pointed at him right now. Tell him to identify himself—at least we can try to give him some protection.”

“I’ll try to get in touch with the person who established the trust. I can’t promise anything.”

“But Joe knows who it is, doesn’t he.”

“How would I know?”

“Joe was taking the rap for him. He must have know who it was.”

“I’m not buying that part of it,” Kendrick said.

“Not out loud, anyway. If you’d known about it you could be disbarred or maybe worse.”

Kendrick’s eyes narrowed. “Watch your mouth now.”

“That’s the point, isn’t it. You can’t admit you knew anything about Joe’s innocence. If you had evidence that you didn’t present at the trial, you could be in a lot of trouble for keeping it to yourself.”

“You’re out of line, Watchman.”

“And you’re out on a limb. I want that name.”

“I can’t give it to you. Look I’ll put it out on the table for you, face up. I defended Joe Threepersons the best way I knew how. I did a damned good job. Any other lawyer would have lost him to a life term at best. I got him off with second-degree. It was after Joe went to prison that this person asked me to set up an anonymous trust to support Maria and the little boy. The client didn’t explain any motives to me and I didn’t ask—I thought it was a generous thing for the client to do. Now you won’t find any malfeasance in that so let’s just quit throwing raw meat on the floor.”

“It must have been a sizable trust.”

“What makes you say that?”

“The curio shop. The house. The private school.”

Kendrick’s eyes flickered. “You could find out anyway, I suppose. I received a capital sum of sixty-five thousand dollars from the client, exclusive of my own fees and commissions. Out of that we made the down payment on her house and paid the first six months of the lease on the Katchina Boutique. The fixtures and inventory were also paid for out of capital. It left something like fifty thousand dollars out of the original sixty-five, and I invested that in ten percent corporate bonds. I paid over the interest every month to Maria—it came to four-hundred-odd a month, and on top of that she had commissions on whatever she sold in the curio shop. The shop was self-sustaining after the first few months. She had a good business head, she hired the help herself. The shop wasn’t a fantastic success but she made a good living out of it.” Kendrick spread his hands out expressively. “It wasn’t a big fortune, after all. The fifty thousand dollars’ capital was to revert to the client in any case. Maria was only getting the interest on it.”

“It’s a lot of money any way you want to cut it,” Watchman said. “There’s one thing you’d better think about. This client of yours could be a killer.”

“You’re off base a mile. The money doesn’t prove Joe didn’t murder Ross Calisher. There could be a dozen reasons for it, beginning with honest charity.”

“Tell me something. When you come across a case of a gunshot death right after a husband-and-wife dispute, do you believe the story that it was a gun-cleaning accident?”

“What’s that got to do with anything?”

“I don’t like coincidences,” Watchman said. “She gets the money a week after Joe goes to prison.”

“Well Joe couldn’t support her from prison. Of course there’s that connection. It doesn’t prove a thing about his innocence or guilt.”

“Maybe it doesn’t to you. But that client of yours could end up dead within the next few days or maybe the next few hours if you don’t give me a name.”

“I’ll get in touch with the client. That’s all I can do. I can’t say a word without the client’s permission.”

“I hope you don’t end up explaining that to the client’s corpse.” Watchman turned on his heel and tramped to the Volvo.

Victorio trotted to catch up. When Watchman looked past him Kendrick was gone. Victorio said, “Man I want to talk to you.”

“You’ve been doing that all day.”

“I didn’t know anything about that trust fund. It changes things. Look, why don’t we run over to the Arrow, I’ll buy us a beer.”

8.

The one-armed barkeep sat on a stool at the end of the bar with a fingernail inserted in his nostril. He was very carefully not looking in Watchman’s direction.

Victorio appeared from the men’s room feeling for the top of his zipper. He called down the length of the bar: “You want another firewater?”

Watchman nodded and inhaled the fumes of his nearly empty beer. It was all surmise. He wanted to believe Angelina but her word was unsupported; she might have seen Joe that night in Cibecue but suppose her watch had been an hour slow? Kendrick was right: there could be any number of explanations for the trust fund, half of them unconnected with Calisher’s death. Joe had confessed and produced the murder weapon. Everything else was hearsay and the people who talked to Watchman had attitudes that were colored by their feelings for or against Joe; either way they would naturally tend to make pinks red and greys black.

But he kept coming back to the original proposition because it accounted for the facts, even if it was full of holes. It explained a lot of things that otherwise looked like coincidence. Coincidences offened Watchman’s sense of orderliness. If Joe weren’t innocent there were too many of them to explain: the coincidence that brought money to Maria when Joe went to prison; the coincidence that sprung Joe efficiently from Florence less than thirty-six hours after Maria’s death; the coincidence that connected Joe Threepersons to three murders, at least two of which he could not possibly have committed; the coincidence that placed a .375 magnum in Joe’s hands at a time when everything else suggested he had escaped and armed himself in order to avenge the deaths of his wife and son.