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with his fist, near hard enough to crack a bone. I thought he was going to do it again but he didn't. Instead he leaned against the wall and said without turning, "Who did it? Why?" in that hard, snappy voice of his.
    "We don't know yet."
    That brought him around. "Don't know? God Almighty, you've had two days to find out!"
    "Easy, now, Mr. Bodeen—"
    "Don't talk down to me. Why haven't you caught the son of a bitch who killed my brother'?"
    "Nobody saw what happened or has any idea why it happened, that's why." My dander was up too, now. Emmett Bodeen may have had a hard loss, but that did not give him the right to come into Tule Bend and throw a tantrum. "Could be you can shed some light on the matter."
    "What in hell would I know about it?"
    ''What brought your brother to Tule Bend, for one thing."
    "I don't know why he came here."
    "Either of you know anybody lives in this area?"
    "No."
    "He ever been here before?"
    "Not that I know of."
    "How about you? You been here before?"
    "No."
    "When did you last see or hear from your brother?"
    "Three weeks ago."
    "In person?"
    "I had a letter from him."
    "Answering the one we found in his bag?"
    Bodeen hesitated before he said, "That's right."
    "Where was it sent from?"
    "Marysville."
    "He say anything about leaving there?"
    "No."
    "Nothing about coming down to Stockton?"
    ". . . No, nothing."
    "Reckon that means he wasn't interested," I said.
    "Interested in what?"
    "Big-money venture of yours, the one you mentioned in your letter."
    "That's right," Bodeen said flatly, "he wasn't interested."
    "What else did his letter say?"
    "Family talk, that's all."
    "Your family a large one?"
    "No."
    "Any other kin besides your brother?"
    "One sister."
    "Living where?"
    "Tucson, Arizona."
    "Native Arizonians, are you?"
    "No. You got a reason for all these questions?"
    "Your brother lying there dead," I said, "that's my reason. Mind saying where you're from, originally?"
    "New Mexico. Albuquerque. Folks been dead a dozen years. Sister's name is Louise, she's married to a man claims he can make rain with a machine. Jeremy and me always let her know where we are; that way she can forward letters, if needs be. You satisfied now?"
    "Mostly. Surprise you your brother left Marysville without telling you in his letter?"
    "No. He was fiddle-footed. Been that way ever since he was fifteen. Soon as he had an itch, he'd scratch it."
    "How'd he pay his way?"
    "Worked at odd jobs when he needed to."
    "Any special kind?"
    "Handy work. He was good with his hands."
    "Anything else he was good at?"
    "Drinking whiskey and chasing women," Bodeen said, snotty.
    Obe laughed—one of his nervous titters. I asked Bodeen, "That your hobby, too?"
    "Sometimes. Isn't it yours?"
    "Can't say it is, no."
    "Too bad for you."
    "Not in my job. What about yours, Mr. Bodeen?"
    "What I do for a living is my business."
    "Sure. But if it's honest work, you shouldn't mind saying what it is."
    He didn't care for the implication of that. But he had a tighter cap on himself now and he didn't blow off again. After a space he said, "I work with horses."
    "Stablehand, you mean?"
    "Hell no. Racehorses. I help train them."
    "Work for anybody in particular in Stockton?"
    "No."
    "That big-money venture you told your brother about—it have anything to do with racehorses?"
    Bodeen's eyes glittered. "That's enough questions," he said. "Instead of wasting your time with me, why don't you go find out who murdered Jeremy. If you don't, I will."
    "Meaning?"
    "Meaning just what I said."
    "Better think twice before you do anything you'll regret, Mr. Bodeen. We take a dim view of lawbreakers in this county."
    ''Then do your goddamn job.'' He turned toward the door, yanked it open, and started out front.
    "Hold on a second," I said. And when he turned, "I take it you're planning to stay on in Tule Bend a while?"
    "You can count on that, Constable."
    "I'll also count on you making burial arrangements with Mr. Spencer here, stopping by my office in the