TCL

SHERIFF

TC778: Huge swaths of the high plains still lay under snow that first fell in November of  '42, but it was  a dry cold  and the roads were clear. From the air Headwater looked like an abstract map drawn in  fine black  ink  on paper  bleached an  unearthly white.

The victim was found by a man in his eighties named Tashunka. He was older than the town of Headwater, a mere  boy of the People when the Killing Relic  came to Jashen. The biggest animal he ever killed was a coyote baited with a live hare.

TC779: Tashunka  almost  didn't  see the  girl. Her body  was dangling at a  so-called  roadside attraction  that had  always bored him. On a United  States  map  one line  terminated  on another. Three Great Plains states came together at this place, but even when there  was no  snow Tashunka  had never  seen any lines. What caught his eye was  not so much that  the dead girl was naked but how her head  and arms drooped back,  and how her feet didn't touch the ground, as  though she were nailed  to an invisible cross.

TC780: He backed  up  his  truck and  parked  at the  tri-state monument. It looked like a corral. There were two other set of tire tracks in the snow and  two sets of footprints which became a tangled net near the body. Tashunka tried to be careful in his approach to leave the site clean for the sheriff. He could see no movement of the  girl's chest and  no condensation  from her mouth. The dead girl was too pale to be one of the People. Of a certainty she had been part of the White Wing of the Church.

TC781: Old Tashunka wept with frustration when he found that he could not  do the simple  kindness of closing the  girl's frozen eyes staring out upon eternity. But now he recognized the dead girl. It was Erik  Zinter's  kid. Then he  wept more  deeply, because he knew why she had been murdered and he guessed who the killers must be. The long and unhappy union of the Red Wing and the White Wing of  the Church  of Green  Dome was  finished for good. Tashunka carefully retraced his steps to the truck.

TC782: An hour later Tashunka returned with  Sheriff Rod Walker to the little fenced-off area. The tri-state marker was a beam of treated wood embedded in the ground, one foot  square with a sloping top,  and Kimberly's back  rested on this, held  fast by frozen blood.

The sheriff told Deputy Bill  to start snapping  pictures while Deputy Bob followed Walker around with a notepad and took down a running commentary.

"I need to steal your sole with my camera, Chief," Bill said, so "lay it out there."

TC783: Tashunka smiled weakly at the joke and lifted one foot as best he could. Bill got a photo of the bottom of  both the old Indian's boots  to  make  sure  they  could  differentiate  his footprints from that of the perps. Then Tashunka was left behind as Bill methodically photographed his way to the girl's body.

When the  sheriff  and  his deputies  completely  surveyed  and documented the murder scene they all pitched in to lift Kimberly free of the survey marker and set her on a foldaway stretcher.

TC784: Walker shouted an oath when he read the plaque that Kim's body was covering. He realized they were at the exact place some surveyor decided the corners of two states ran flush against the border of a third. At a stroke that made the case Federal.

They walked the  body out  of there,  but paused  a moment  for Tashunka to get another close look at it.

"This was Kimberly Zinter," he told them, and he put his fingers on her face just long  enough to melt  the eyelids so  he could close them.

TC785: "I've seen her at Temple," said Bill.

The sheriff opened the glove box of his truck and came back with a manila envelope containing a photo, which he  compared to the dead girl's blood-streaked face. "The gentleman is right, boys. This was the local girl the Bureau was looking  for. One of the two, anyway."

He also took note of the girl's headdress. It was similar to the jewelry some of the Kuwapi townspeople frequently wore. It was a lattice of beads adorning two curving white horns.

TC786: After the deputies loaded the body in the  canopy of the department's green 1940 Dodge half-ton truck, Bob said, "So this was never going to be our  case, even if she  wasn't lying dead spread out over three states."

Tashunka turned to Walker and  said, "I remember when  you left the Church, Sheriff. Your men  are Greendomites in good standing but they  might not  be up  on Church  politics from  the Kuwapi perspective. I  don't know  who did this  terrible thing  to the girl but I can tell you why."

TC787: Inactivity had cooled the sweat under  Walker's coat. He shivered in the face of  a stiff  wind from the  frozen plains. "This is not the place,  Tashunka," he  said. "The body of the girl must go to  our little hospital. But if you  meet me at the station in about an  hour I will listen to what  you have to say about this."

After that Walker  drove with  one of  his deputies  around the large hill near the crime scene named Green Dome. It loomed some eight hundred feet above the town of Headwater.

TC788: "I just can't win, Bill," Sheriff Walker lamented. "Half the male population of Headwater under forty-five is off killing Japs and Krauts and Eye-talians. Things were getting real quiet around here. Then the Bureau set  up shop and stayed all summer. Now I have my first homicide."

They passed the  corner of  federally-owed National  Grasslands that crossed the gravel road. There the FBI had parked a small trailer but there were no lights on and no smoke was coming from their wood stove.

TC789: Bill nodded at  the manila  envelop on  the dash  of the truck. "Those girls were in federal custody  somewhere for half of last  year, but apparently  they've escaped and made  the FBI look -- hell,  they are incompetent. And they tasked  us to help find 'em."

"But they wouldn't tell us what it was all about," said Walker. "Well, now I suppose they will."

Headwater came into view. Even with a reduced wartime population of a thousand souls it was  bigger than anything for  a hundred miles around.

TC790: "What do you want me to do after we give the body to Dr. Wahkan?"

"Develop the film  and  file the  negatives,"  Walker told  his deputy. "Then get back  to the  scene and  help  Bob look  for the  murder weapon.  It's probably  a  knife. I  didn't see  any footprints  leading  away  from  the  marker  so  I  figure  the perpetrator either  tossed it away or  kept it. The best  way to look is to walk a steady  spiral out from that little corral, if Bob hasn't already thought of that. Take all the time you need."

TC791: The town's one doctor was known as Wahkan to the People. The whites called  him Plenty  Practice. No one had  ever died under his scalpel, but even a  local legend such as  Dr. Wahkan could not bring the dead back to life.

"Kimberly Zinter,"  the doctor  said  when  he saw  the  bloody corpse. "Heartbreaking. And her father  Erik was taken  from us only  last year.  I can't  imagine how  Clara is  going to  take this."

Hearing this the sheriff winced. He knew he must be the one to break it to her.

"I saw this girl last spring when her mother brought her in. And I also saw another girl who is the same age, the one named Sofie Krause. They both had the same symptoms."

TC792: Dr. Wahkan donned a pair of rubber gloves. "I have never had the displeasure to carry out this protocol for you, Sheriff, thank God, and for your father I only did it on three occasions. That alone tells you Headwater really is a good place."

"You identified her at a glance, Doctor. Did you know her?"

"Kim was something of a big deal in the Church, Sheriff Walker. She was  the star vocalist in  the choir, and very  recently she was named the Prophet of the Church. Did you know that?"

TC793: "No. One  of the  deputies mentioned  something about  a family squabble in the Church.  Apparently there was a big split starting at the top, but he said nothing about a new Prophet."

"Well, I also saw this girl last spring when her mother brought her to the clinic. There's another  girl who's the same age, her name is Sophia Krause. Naturally  I'm allergic to discussing any details of a patient's medical condition but this really isn't a disease, no matter what the government thinks it is."

TC794: "Disease?"

Dr. Wahkan pulled Kim's headdress away, but the two white horns remained in place. Removing the jewelry and displaying  it, he said, "No doubt you have seen something similar to this before."

Walker nodded. "I know it's a Kuwapi thing. My  first guess was Kim was wearing it because it was  starting to catch on as a fad among  the white  kids in  town.  Sort of  like their  so-called music."

Wahkan reached down to grabbed  one on the horns  on Kimberly's head and firmly shook it.

TC795: This caused her whole head to shake as  well. "They wear the jewelry to cover up the fact that these horns are real."

"I'll be damned," Walker said. "I never guessed!"

Dr. Wahkan lifted Kim's hair so the sheriff could  see the skin of her  scalp where  the  horns  emerged. There was a  smooth transition. The skin simply hardened and merged with the horns. The horns themselves were not mere a feature of  the skin, like calluses. They were rooted to the skull. They actually were made of bone.

TC796: "We  call  this  the   Change,"  the  doctor  told  him. "Naturally both  girls  and  particularly  their  parents  were alarmed when it started to happen to them, but in terms of their health  they were  quite safe.  The  Change is  known among  the Kuwapi people."

"Why did it happen to these two girls?"

"It spreads by sexual contact. I know that among the changed are the Begotten and the Made. I  also know that both  the Begotten and the  Made can  make the  Change, but  only the  Begotten can beget the Change.

TC797: "I told Kim and Sophia the Change had been present among some members of the Red Wing  for a lifetime, and if you believe the Green  Book is  true history  it goes  back even  further. I tried to  explain all  this to their  mothers but  they wouldn't believe me. They took the  girls somewhere for a second opinion, and now our town has these outsiders."

"Headwater is a good place, Doctor, just like you said, but the killers deliberately  draped her body across  three states. That forces my hand."

TC798: "I understand," said  Dr. Wahkan. "Now you must report this crime to  the very outsiders I spoke of,  the ones who have made things less good here over the last few months."

Walker said, "I don't believe  for a minute someone  killed her over her choice in costume jewelry."

"Sheriff, her flirtation with the Red Wing obviously ran deeper than a penchant for hair  accessories," he pointed out. And with that, he began to run the body of the girl through the necessary indignity of an autopsy.

TC799: Old Tashunka  waited outside  the sheriff's  office long past the time when Walker said he'd meet him. He had been trying to stay warm inside his  running truck. Walker invited the old fellow to come indoors for some fresh coffee.

"I'm sorry I'm late.  Doctor Wahkan  had some  very interesting things to tell me about  the deceased, and even more interesting things to show me."

Tashunka accepted the sheriff's invitation and  followed Walker inside. He sat shivering until the coffee was ready.

TC800: "And what of the three stupid boys who took a bullwhip to a young plains Indian  and didn't think  he'd have  friends who could do something far worse in retaliation?"

"Those three stupid  boys  were still  there looking  perfectly miserable until they laid eyes on  the dead girl. That seemed to make  their  whole  day.  Would  that  Headwater  had  a  bigger hospital.  They wouldn't  tell me  what was  so funny.  I figure you're about to tell me."

Tashunka leaned back in his seat and nursed his coffee.

TC801: His eyes  landed on  a photograph  of the  elder Sheriff Walker, now deceased. Had it been two years already? "Everyone greatly respected your father. I was there at his Final Rite."

Rod flushed  with  sudden  anger. "And I, his  son,  was  not permitted to  be there  because I don't  believe in  fairy tales about sun  gods and  killing relics  and I  made the  mistake of letting everybody know that."

"Sheriff, if you allow your heart  to grow black you  will take everything I say in a way I do not mean."

TC802: Walker glared at him while he took another sip of coffee, then lowered his eyes. When he was calm again he said, "You are absolutely right, Tashunka. I know how important the relic is to the life of your church."

Tashunka said, "The  Red and  White  wings of  the Church  swap authority but the Killing Relic is considered an heirloom of the Shybear family. Jashen  thought it would quiet things  to let it pass out of his hands, but he gave it to his son Gabriel instead of Apostle Klaus Hansen."

TC803: "Gabriel Shybear. That explains how he got his whipping. They must have been trying to beat the relic out of him. I count myself fortunate  I never embraced  the faith of the  Green Dome Church as my own, Tashunka. It's much too violent."

"There's more," Tashunka said. "Jashen set aside the rule that Greendomites must marry only their  cousins, in one instance, so Gabriel  could marry  Kim  Zinter. When  they  heard that  Klaus Hansen  and half  the Bunners  stood up  and walked  out of  the Temple."

TC804: Walker smiled at the old man's use of the word 'Bunners'. Greendomites had to wear their hair in a ponytail, even the men, but in the White Wing  this ponytail was done  up in a  bun. He remembered how close he had come to being a Bunner himself. But even outsiders knew about  the Church  of Green  Dome's biggest hobby horse: mandatory cousin marriage. Walker knew a deep stew of racism simmered among  the Bunners  but the  dogma requiring consanguineous marriages had kept it from boiling over.

TC805: Kimberly Zinter was  in the  fourth generation  from the original pioneers. She had no kin among  the Red Wing  but her marriage and any  subsequent children  and grandchildren  would blow the door wide open.

Tashunka seemed to read the sheriff's mind. He said, "Hansen saw this marriage between  Gabriel and  Kim as  a horrible  disease infecting the pristine body of  the Church. Their children would have marriageable  cousins in  both wings. With  each generation this disease would just grow worse."

TC806: "So now I have motive," the sheriff said.

The deputies rushed in just then and threw a  Cellophane bag on Walker's desk. It contained a bloody blade.

"We found it," Bob said, "just like you guessed. In Wyoming. No more than throwing distance from the body."

The blade was thin  and flexible. It was just a  steak knife, really.

Walker frowned with disappointment. "This game isn't so fun when the perps don't even try  to win.  Not a Sears  Roebuck kitchen knife: no, something handmade."

TC807: What followed was a duty Sheriff Walker  did not relish. He recalled the recent death of Erik Zinter. How does one tell a newly-widowed woman that her entire  family has now  been wiped off the face of the earth?

But the woman who answered the  door was not Clara  Zinter. She was younger and her hair was a rich, dark red. She had eyes that were a light, icy green, very  striking for being so  rare. But what really  stood  out  were  the  two  white  curving  horns, precisely like those of the victim.

TC808: The young lady was  the spitting image of  the deceased. She stood in the doorway waiting  for Walker to speak  while he pulled out the file to be sure. Identical twin? She had to be.

He cleared his throat  and said,  "Good afternoon.  I'm Sheriff Walker. Is Clara Zinter here at home?"

"Mother moved away recently," the young lady  said. "She's with her own folks back East. I'm Robyn. Do you want to come in? I'm sure you have questions and it will be better than standing here in the doorway."

TC809: Walker took off his hat  and accepted her offer. He saw the hardwood floors were covered with throw-rugs. He could smell the very slight odor of a  gas furnace. The radio was tuned to Headwater's  one station. It was playing  "I've Got  a Gal  in Kalamazoo" by  Glenn Miller and  His Orchestra. Robyn turned it down.

The sheriff said, "Please, Robyn,  if you could turn  the radio off entirely. I  afraid I have very bad news  for you." The girl complied, then she invited the sheriff to be seated.

TC810: Walker  got  the  impression  the  Zinters  were  firmly situated in the middle-class. Not destitute by any  means, but not ostentatious either. A small coffee table lay between them. Robyn smoothed out her plaid woolen dress and Roddy saw she wore bobby socks and saddle shoes.

"You were about to tell  me you found  the body of  my sister," Robyn said. "You were to break it to me how  she was stabbed to death."

On one  level Walker  was  relieved. His duty to  notify  the next-of-kin had been mooted.

TC811: But Robyn  had stated  things she  should not  yet know. Walker took a pen and a small notebook out of his jacket liner. The sympathetic bearer of bad news had become a detective again. "When did you know your sister was dead, Miss Zinter?"

"Call me Robyn, please," she  said. "Just one name: Robyn. Not Miss Zinter.

"Did an old Indian fellow pay you a visit earlier today?"

"Nobody else has visited me today,  Sheriff. But if I  tell you the truth you will probably think I'm a little crazy."

TC812: "You are well  advised, Robyn, to  hold that  thought in mind,  that you  must  always  tell me  the  truth.  But as  for thinking  you  crazy,  I'm  already  having  trouble  with  your attitude toward your own sister's murder."

"Sheriff, have you  ever  heard those  stories about  identical twins who seem to have a link that defies any explanation? Twins who were separated  at birth? They never met, yet  they they led lives  with coincidence  piled  upon  coincidence, with  similar jobs, and even similar spouses?"

TC813: "And the same horns, Robyn? Are you Begotten, or Made?"

"I was Made, the same as Kim. I hated it when people could tell us apart."

"Okay,. so are you saying you  have some kind of  radio in your head tracking what was happening to your sister?"

"No, Sheriff, nothing like that."

"Good, because if that's what you  were trying to say  to me, I wouldn't  believe you  were  nuts. I  would run  you  in to  the station  for knowing  material  facts about  this  case with  no plausible explanation why."

TC814: "Sheriff, look, if  you do  that I'll  just clam  up and you'll  run out  of time.  None of  the evidence  points to  me, circumstantial or  otherwise, and the clock  is ticking. Someone was very clever.  He made this bigger than a  local case and the feds are  coming. He thinks  he can cut  some sort of  deal with them. But  he also had  an accomplice who  is not so  clever, or maybe he was  set up to take  the fall. There's a  unique set of kitchen knives that are missing one blade. And tomorrow is trash day."

TC073: On  the eve  of  Special  Agent  Felt's transfer  to  DC Hoover  telephoned him  personally. Felt knew he  was in  for a disappointment. The San  Antonio  field office  was  deemed  a punishment detail where agents were  sent to be toughened up and it was  particularly hard  on  ones  who were  married. Felt's transfer to Washington to work counter-espionage was put on hold until he solved a simple homicide in the middle of the country. Hoover took the case personally and so, naturally,  the FBI did as well.

TC074: "You'll be  coordinating  with Special  Agent in  Charge Clyde Tolson on this one," Hoover said. "Do you know him?"

Felt could only answer that he knew Tolson ran a division of the Bureau known as DECON, but  neither he nor his  associates knew what the initials meant.

"In Clyde's pretty little head DECON stands for Domestic Enemies Containment, Observation, and Neutralization.  But to  you, the other agents and  most important of all,  Congress, Tolson heads up the Special Projects section."

TC075: "I understand  sir," said  Felt, "but  what if,  by some misfortune,  my work  runs at  cross-purposes to  those of  SAiC Tolson?"

Hoover said, "Your case will take precedence.  Mesh with Tolson where you can but your reports  go directly to me. Also you will have  the  complete cooperation  of  the  local law  enforcement community,  such as  it is.  Not even  Tolson has  that. But  be forewarned, Felt: Headwater  is a small town at  the ragged edge of nowhere. They don't even have a motel where you can stay.".

TC076: Hoover wrapped up with a few more  details, saying Agent Felt this and Agent Felt that. After twenty years J. Edgar would call Mark Felt 'Felt' but he'd  never be on a  first-name basis like 'Clyde' which would suit him fine.

Felt did win one important concession. He received permission to draw a Bureau sedan so his  wife Audrey could proceed  to DC as originally planned while he took  his own car north through most of Texas and  three other  states to  fix this  burr under  the Director's saddle

00: Scissors, paper, rock, and Deputy Bob Lurz had to be the one to climb into the garbage truck at the place where 6th made a little jog  north. Paul Bergin lived  on N  Street and  6th. Deputy Bill Holsinger stayed out of sight and drove to L and 7th to pick up Bob when he  was done. The fellow driving the truck and the fellow dumping the cans were duly deputized. At O street Bob was told that Paul Bergin was making a last minute addition of a grocery bag to the can already out on the street.

01: Two more pickups  and Bob  had this  grocery bag  in his hands.

"Jesus Christ, Bob,  you reek!" gasped Bill when his  partner piled into the truck with the evidence.

"All in the line of duty. Look  what we got." He let Bill peek inside at a wooden knife block. The handles matched the murder weapon and one blade was missing.

"So it's Deacon Paul Bergin  for sure," said Deputy  Bill. "I'm with the  sheriff  on  this one.  When  the  perpetrators  make catching them this easy it's no fun at all."

02: Special Agent Mark  Felt drove to  the strip  of Federal land where Hoover told him the Bureau had dropped a trailer. It was unoccupied. Felt let himself in using the spare  key he had obtained from the Wichita field office.

The kitchen was  still a  kitchen, but  the living  room was  a workspace. He checked the trailer's  two bedrooms and  saw they contained two cots apiece. Before anyone else arrived he shat, showered, and shaved to make himself presentable once more after two days on the road.

03: When he was  finished Felt helped  himself to  the files stacked on the desks. One of them contained  brittle yellowed paper that Felt instinctively handled with great care. lt was a report on the  final days  of a  certain Fort  Price. The file contained pages  from  the  commanding  officer's  journal  and testimony of six surviving soldiers, including one who had been captured and maimed. Felt steadily read the file until he heard the sound of a vehicle's tires crunching up to the FBI trailer.

04: Felt met Clyde Tolson  when he inspected  his graduating class with Hoover but this fellow wasn't he. When the agent came in Felt thought the man looked more movie  gangster than G-man, investigatee more than investigator. Later Felt would learn he was one  of the few  liberal Democrats  to be accepted  into the Bureau.

"Are you William Mark Felt?" the newcomer asked.

Felt, who had been  sitting ramrod straight  in his  chair, now stood ramrod straight on his feet and extended his hand.

05: 'Just Mark Felt, please.'

The newcomer remarked on their mutual good fortune,  as his own name was  Bill  Sullivan,  and two  Williams  would  have  been confusing. He approached the desk  to see  what Felt  had been reading, amused by Mark's body language which seemed to dare him to remark on the presumption.

"Ah yes, cowboys and Indians," he said when he saw the material a little bit closer. "The latest obsession of SAiC Clyde Tolson and part of the reason we're here. How far did you get?"

06: "The Indians dropped a couple cows,"  Felt replied, "and the cowboys  dropped a couple  Indians. If you hadn't  shown up, Bill, I'm sure  I would have plowed my way  through to where the US Army  lost their fort.  Why is  this one of  Tolson's special projects?"

"DECON,"  Sullivan   said. "Domestic  Enemies   Containment, Observation, and Neutralization. I'm  sure the Director told you this was Special  Projects but my advice is that  you play along with Tolson, at least until you break the murder case."

07: Felt donned his overcoat. "The Director gave me almost nothing in the way  of a briefing, but he did  warn me about the DECON thing. What is Tolson looking for, exactly?"

“Now that," Sullivan said, "is a secret he's holding close to his vest. Right now he's waiting for you at what qualifies for a hospital in this tiny burg. It’s practically a one-room log cabin. He’s with Dr. Ian Trochmann. I’ll take you there, but I won’t be staying. I’m still looking for a  fugitive, one Sophia Krause.”

08: Sullivan drove  Felt to  the hospital  to take  over the investigation. He said, "You got me wondering why Tolson gives a damn about the Army losing a fort way back when. Hell, it was a lifetime ago."

Sullivan shrugged. Clyde Tolson was playing coy and  there was much he didn't know. "I guess Fort Price  was kinda  like the little brother  to Custer's  Last Stand.  One thing  that really strikes me about the Indian wars is how the Indians gave as well as they got. We only beat them with numbers."

08: "Numbers, time, and the fact that they weren't really as bloodthirsty as people made them out to be. Did you ever hear of something  they  called  'counting  coup'? It  was  the  wartime equivalent of  touch football. They  went to  war like we  go to ball games."

At the little hospital a plump nurse in her fifties wheeled out a shivering boy with bandaged stumps where his feet should have been. She was followed by Deputies Bill and Bob wheeling out one boy apiece, each with identical injuries.

09: As Sullivan led Felt  up the  walkway he made  the first introductions. "Felt, this is nurse  Ella Fader, and  the young man  in the  wheelchair  is  Scott Hilling.  Ella,  this is  FBI Special Agent Mark Felt."

Felt couldn't help grinning at her name and  almost cracked the obvious joke, but she shook her head slowly to warn him off.

Sullivan introduced Deputy Bob  Lurz pushing Johnny  Sunkel and Bill Holsinger pushing Larry Porter.

Felt wondered, "Why are they being rolled out to see the snow?"

10: "Agent Tolson was of the mind they needed  fresh air for about an hour," Bob explained.

Sullivan said, 'The Indians around here used to believe if they could make a captive scream  his shade  would have to  be their personal slave in the afterlife. Some still remember. Not quite the touch football you mentioned  earlier! I think some of the Kuwapi worked these boys over with knives as payback for taking a whip to one of their  friends. But nobody is talking. Nobody wants to name names."

11: "Oh, there you  are Felt," said  SAIC Clyde  Tolson when they arrived. Felt remembered his oblong face  and searing gaze from Quantico when he inspected the graduating class 15 with the Director. The sheriff was  also there  and  Sullivan made  the introduction, "Special Agent  Mark  Felt, this  is Sheriff  Rod Walker."

Felt hit the ground running. As he shook Walker's hand he looked at his watch and said, "Sheriff, it's quarter of  four and I am assuming responsibility for this investigation."

12: "Special  Agent  Felt,  this department  will  pull  out every stop  to cooperate with  your investigation. But  I'm left wondering about another homicide just  over the state line a few years back.  My father reported it  to the Bureau but  they told him to handle it locally."

12: "Special  Agent  Felt,  this department  will  pull  out every stop  to cooperate with  your investigation. But  I'm left wondering about another homicide just  over the state line a few years back.  My father reported it  to the Bureau but  they told him to handle it locally."

Felt said, "In  the  present case,  Sheriff,  the deceased  was already  the subject  of a  DECON investigation  by SAiC  Tolson here, and  frankly the perps  carried out  this murder in  a way that deliberately antagonized the Director."

13: Tolson  seemed  pleased  that Felt  didn't  need  to  be reminded of his preferred term for the Special Projects section. He suspected Sullivan was instrumental there.

Sheriff Walker introduced Dr. Wahkan.

Tolson introduced yet another man,  who was donning  scrubs, as Dr. Ian Trochmann. He was part of Tolson's DECON project and was preparing to perform the autopsy all over again.

Wahkan said, "I don't think there will be much of the girl left if you insist on going through with this."

14: Hoover had said Felt's own investigation took precedence over whatever Tolson was trying to do. He decided to put that to the test. "Talk me out of it, Dr. Wahkan,"  Felt said. "Tell me what you think you  found and I'll  see what I  can do  for the girl."

Dr. Wahkan accepted this bargain. "The deceased is a Caucasian female,  known from  her  appearance and  dental  records to  be Kimberly Anne  Zinter of  Headwater, seventeen  years of  age, a high school student and a vocalist in her church choir.

15: "The deceased has  been dead for  approximately eighteen hours with little  evident decay as she  was discovered outdoors in sub-freezing weather. I counted thirteen deep knife wounds to the chest. Six of the wounds pierced the heart. Those six wounds were the proximate cause of death. The actual cause of death was exsanguination. The size  and the number of  the wounds suggests she  was killed  by  a weapon  larger than  a  pocket knife  but smaller than a hunting knife, with a thin flexible blade."

16: "Please get to the good part, Doctor,"  said Tolson, who was visibly agitated.

"The good part?" Dr. Wahkan was indignant. "None of this is good."

Tolson grew annoyed. "I mean the part that must be redacted from your own report."

The doctor sighed and got to it. "Protruding through the scalp in the back  of the head of the deceased  are two small, curving structures of white bone and cartilage resembling horns."

Felt drew near to  Kimberly's body to  confirm what  the doctor just stated.

17: Tolson regretted that Sheriff Walker  couldn't be sliced out of the examination like the deputies and the nurse had been. "Have you ever seen the like before, Doctor Wahkan?"

The doctor said, 'Last May this girl's mother brought her to me. Her friend Sophia  came in  also. She was accompanied  by both parents. The skin was not broken at the time. The girls only had two bumps on their heads. Their folks didn't like what I said so they went to another doctor in Wyoming for a second opinion."

18: "Did you tell them it was just a tick  bite? The lack of urgency that drove their parents  to another doctor causes me to believe you  have seen  these horns  before, perhaps  many times before. Is that not, in fact, the case?"

After considering his reply, Dr. Wahkan said, "If  I answer one way, I'm lying  to a federal agent,  which is a crime.  And if I answer another way, I'm breaking doctor-patient confidentiality. So you will understand my position when I say nothing more about this affair."

19: Tolson said, "Doctor Wahkan, you could  easily lose your license to practice medicine if you fail to help me contain this outbreak."

"Special Agent Tolson,"  the Sheriff  cut in,  "the doctor  has assured me  this change is  transmitted sexually. If  you really thought the girl was contagious you wouldn't even be in the same building with her body."

To this Tolson had  no answer. Dr. Trochmann flashed  a raised eyebrow and wry smile at Tolson. He dared to venture, "He's got you there, sir."

20: "Pardon me,  sir,"  said Special  Agent  Felt, but  this girl's horns, or bone cysts, or whatever they are, what bearing do they have on my own investigation?"

"Possibly none at all," said  Tolson, "but as the  Sheriff just said, the doctor claims they are passed along by sexual contact. I don't  need to  remind you that  sex has  frequently motivated murder. I mean to find out more."

"And unfortunately for Dr. Wahkan, I agree with you sir. I have no professional objections to a second autopsy."

21: Tolson appeared pleased with  this call, but  Hoover had ordered Felt to  play nice  when  it was  possible. Turning to Sullivan, he  said, "There is  another young lady with  the same horns, a  Miss Sophia  Krause. I presume  she's still  alive and hiding  somewhere in  this very,  very small  town. So,  Special Agent Sullivan, you know what, and you know when."

"I do indeed, sir," said Sullivan. He put on his gray fedora, tipping it to the sheriff, the two doctors, and Felt as he made his farewells.

22: Sheriff Walker found a sudden need to be outside and Felt followed him. On the way out  they heard  the doctor  say, "My prayer is  you find whatever  you are looking for,  quickly, and never again return to Headwater.  Not even uncivilized men treat their dead in this manner."

Sheriff Walker heard Special Agent Mark Felt's stomach growl and guessed the man  might  not have  eaten  since breakfast. Felt agreed to dine with him, so long as there  was no discussion of the case in the restaurant.

23: The Sheriff  decided  on Bea's  Chicken  Inn, only  five blocks east of  the hospital. Headwater was not a  very large town. Walker took him over in the half-ton truck  and along the way Felt invited him to spill, as quickly as  he could, what he had uncovered up to that point.

Walker said, "We have what is very likely the murder weapon. It has fingerprints. We have photographs of the scene with tire and boot marks in  snow. And we have more evidence  that I wanted to talk to you about first."

24: "Is there a problem?"

"We collected the  evidence this  morning after  a lead  by one Robyn Zinter, the twin sister of  the deceased. The lead was too good to risk passing up. If  we waited the opportunity to obtain it would have been lost for good."

"Do you think this Robyn is indulging in misdirection?"

"Agent Felt, I can't figure her out at all.  She expresses zero sorrow for her sister. She's  intelligent and sweet but half the things that come out of her mouth make no sense at all."

25: "I can't wait to meet her," Felt said. "But first, Bea's Chicken Inn, you say? Do  you know I  haven't had a  bite since early this morning in Witchita?"

"Then you're in luck,  Agent Felt,  homestyle fried  chicken is Bea's forte. When I heard you  were coming I thought I would put Headwater's best foot forward."

When they went inside and were seated Walker  remarked that the place was much less busy that it used to be on weeknights. "Coal was the mainstay of the town and that's drying up."

26: Felt said,  "I  understand wartime  meat rationing  will probably start in a month or two."

Walker nodded. "Places like this won't  close up,  but they'll have to  collect ration  cards from customers  and put  them all together to get resupplied. I suppose it'll be even less crowded then. But tell me, Agent Felt, what steered you into the FBI?"

27: The  Sheriff  said,  "In wartime  our  country  actually becomes,   always    temporarily,   thank   God,    a   military dictatorship."

Felt nodded. "All hands on deck. And  you're right, we  have a genius for flipping everything back to the way it was."

"So your education was not actually in criminal law?"

"Well, make no mistake, I  was thoroughly immersed  in criminal law at  Quantico. But the  crimes that draw my  attention lately don't happen in little towns like  Headwater. I want to go after spies."

28: The waitress came to take their order. She took the menus but left the two silver half-dollar coins that had  been on the table when the men were seated.

"The people who ate at this  table before us were  from the Red Wing of the Church of Green Dome," Walker said confidently.

"How do you know that?"

He gestured at the two coins. "Those half-dollars. They're dated 1942. The mint mark should be D for Denver, but they'll both be O because the die was worn and nobody caught it in time."

29: Mark Felt looked closely at both coins and confirmed that Walker's guess was true.

"How strange. But what's the connection to the Red Wing?"

"There's a fellow I know here who runs a  pawn shop, he brought these to  my attention.  Normally a  mint mark  of O  would make these collectible.  He looked into  it and found out  the Denver Mint struck  about a hundred  of these flawed  fifty-cent pieces before their quality control spotted  the problem and halted the run. But thousands are circulating!"

30: "So it's  another Headwater  mystery, Sheriff?  Like the girls with the horns?"

"Everywhere you go in this town you'll see them. They're always from  folks in  the Red  Wing. Usually  it's retirees  living on social security.  This old fellow gets  a tube for his  radio at the hardware store  and leaves some half-dollars.  That old lady gets her hair done and leaves another stack."

"Do you think somebody in Headwater  is actually counterfeiting coins? I don't really see the point to doing that."

31: "Right. If you melt a silver half-dollar down all you get is a half-dollar's worth of raw silver bullion."

"But your guy says the little O under 'In God We Trust' makes it collectible."

"Sure, if there was  only a  hundred of  them. There's  tens of thousands of them  now and they're breeding. I chalk  it down to one  of the  many  unexplained things  about  this town.  Here's another one: The  Squaw River provides a steady  supply of water even in drought years and geologists can't explain it."

32: The waitress  arrived with  their food  so they  stopped conversing and ate while  Mark Felt expressed  his appreciation for the food with grunts and eyebrow gestures.

After a time Walker asked, "How many spies have you caught, gent AFelt?"

"None so far," Felt admitted. "I've only been with the Bureau for a year. Half of '42 was  spent at the Academy and in DC, and for the  rest of the  year I was in  Texas in hot  field offices interviewing  references  listed  by applicants  for  government jobs."

33: "Hardly the exciting life of a g-man  that I envisioned. But how's the pay?"

"About sixty a week."

"Not shabby at all, Special Agent Felt."

"What is shabby is having to pick up and move every few months. My wife Audrey and I were in the middle of another move to DC so I could catch spies like I  wanted, but I got diverted here. The Director  moves agents  around just  to toughen  them up,  as he puts  it. That  takes  a  toll he  will  never understand.  He's a...confirmed bachelor, let us say."

34: At the  station everyone  donned gloves  before Bergin's knife holder was removed from  the grocery bag. Photographs were taken from every angle. One blade was removed and photographed next to the  tagged  murder weapon  for  comparison. The knife handles were not identical, but  that was  to be expected  in a hand-crafted  set. Everything was dusted  for fingerprints  and photographed again.

Felt began to interrogate the  deputies as though he  were some pricey Kansas City lawyer Bergin might retain.

35: "Are you sure this came from Mr. Bergin's house, Deputy?"

"I counted four stops after I got in the truck. There are three houses between the Bergin place and where I crawled inside."

"But did you actually see that you were in front of his house?"

"No, sir, I was inside the truck."

Deputy Bill had also been out of sight. But he said, "The driver of the garbage truck and  the pick-up  man both swear  they saw Paul Bergin  throw this bag  in his  trash can just  before they scooped it up."

36: Mark Felt looked simultaneously pleased and troubled. He said, "Sheriff Walker, I'm pleasantly surprised  by what you've managed to get so far, but I  wonder if you see the glaring hole in our case?"

The sheriff nodded. "I do, Special Agent Felt."

"I can give you their names if you wish, Agent Felt," said Bill. "The trash men were deputized for this operation  just like the Sheriff told us to do. That gives them legal standing."

"It also gives them elevated responsibility," said Walker.

37: Deputy Bob said, "If it's any help, right after stopping at the Bergin  place the guy driving the  truck immediately took me around the corner and three  blocks away to meet up with Bill out of  sight. We briefed them  already. They both knew  what we were after. This bag came from  the Bergin house, no doubt about it."

That made Special Agent Felt  relax a  little bit. He said, "I think  we're  ready  to  see  the local  judge.  We  might  have sufficient just cause to fingerprint Mr. and Mrs. Bergin."

38: The investigation experienced  the first  headwinds from Judge Karl Porter when he refused to permit the sheriff to bring the Bergins to the station to be fingerprinted.

Undeterred, Felt then asked the  Judge for permission  to bring Robyn Zinter to the station for questioning.

The judge denied this also and mused aloud, from the den in his own home at 6 o'clock in the evening, that the case was becoming a fishing expedition.

If Special Agent Mark Felt was disappointed it didn't show.

39: "We'll visit the Bergins  tomorrow anyway," he  told the Sheriff outside the judge's home. "I want to see if I can shake something loose."

"Do you want Bob and Bill to tag along?"

"No, I need them to call the state capitol and get the number of Bergin's plates, then have them  go up  to the temple  and take photographs of his tire treads."

"Oh, we already have Bergin's  plate number," Walker  said. "He doesn't think the  wartime speed  limit  of 35  miles per  hour applies to church officers."