The staked Goat

nearly a whole valley, of redwoods only about an hour’s drive from San Francisco. Someone, not Muir, saved the valley from being developed. Nobody ever does anything there except maintain the trails. We hiked about half a mile off one. I hit him with a stone. A few times. Then I used a folding entrenching tool to bury him. The ground was pretty soft. It didn’t take long.”
    ”Then?”
    ”I came to Boston, sent the army a change of address so I could do my income taxes correctly as Clay Belker, and lived happily, conservatively, ever since.”
    ”Until last week.”
    His face clouded. ”Yes,” he said. ”The fool. How can one contemplate that a moron from the army would go through telephone books looking for... Oh, it’s simply too ridiculous.”
    ”He tried to call you, thought it was the wrong guy, but—”
    ”Oh, I handled it badly. My receptionist was out getting coffee. I took the call, and I realized who it was but feigned ignorance. He told me later that he recognized my voice. That was arrogant of him. I think instead that he just could not believe that he was wrong and came to the office to see me. Apparently he spotted me getting into my car and followed me to my home. He knocked on my door.” He gestured with the gun. ”Can you imagine that? He actually knocked at my door and came in. I told him I would have to gather the money. We arranged the drop-off for the next day. A warehouse area”—he swung his head around slowly—”not unlike this one. He was very nervous. And not too smart, after all.” He sneered at me.
    ”How did you take him?” I asked.
    ”I rigged a bundle with a gas trigger. Not unlike the substance Ricker said he used on you. In any case, the baboon opened the bundle at the drop-off. He keeled over, and I waited till he revived and then interrogated him.”
    ”Were you acquainted with Jacquie’s father, too?”
    ”Jacquie?”
    ”Ricker’s wife.”
    ”No. Outside of ‘Nam I barely knew him. Ricker, I mean. Or Mayhew. They were just people in the network. Ricker told me on the telephone that you recognized him from a photo... oh, of course. That’s how you recognized me, too. From the photo in the file.”
    ”No,” I said, shaking my head. ”I recognized you from the photo in Al’s package.”
    ”Package?” He looked pained. ”What package?”
    ”After Al spotted you, he sent me a package. Photos of you. From Weston Hills. With a little chronology of how he found you by flipping through the telephone book.”
    ”You’re lying,” he said evenly. ”You’re definitely lying. He never had time for that.”
    ”Sure he did. He wrapped it up for me. Fourth-class mail. It didn’t arrive until after I left for his funeral. In Pittsburgh.”
    ”You’re lying. He never mentioned anything about a camera or a package to me.” Again the sneer. ”And believe me, he would have, he told me everything else. After what I did to him, he begged me to let him tell me.”
    I took a chance. ”If you were so good at interrogation, how come he never mentioned me?”
    Crowley caught himself and lied. ”He did.”
    I shook my head. ”No, the first time you heard about me was when you decoyed the hotel clerk and saw the message in Al’s box. Just after you tossed his room.”
    ”How did you—”
    ”No,” I interrupted, ”Al never mentioned me to you. I was his insurance policy. I was the one who would see to it you paid the debt if he couldn’t make you.”
    Crowley ground his teeth a bit. ”Where is the package?”
    ”No,” I said. ”First we open your bundle. Then we open mine. Just like at Christmas.”
    ”Where’s the goddamned package?”
    ”You first,” I said.
    Crowley lowered his weapon till it was pointing at my crotch. ”Where’s the package?”
    ”I’m afraid you’re going to have to play it my way. If you shoot me, I lift my foot and the sanitation men draw some overtime. If you open your package first, at least you’re still in the game.”
    Crowley smiled suddenly, in a superior manner. ”You said that his package arrived after you left for Pittsburgh?”
    I sighed. ”That’s right. At my post office box. It and three bills are the only other paperwork I’ve got left after my apartment was leveled.”
    Crowley dropped the smile and looked a little queasy.
    ”By the way,” I said, ”did you arrange that?”
    ”What?” he said, lost in thought.
    ”I said, did you plant the bomb at my place?”
    ”No, no. That would have