said before didn't count. He'd been out of his pinche mind. If his story didn't match, he could say he'd been dreaming or something, so nothing before counted.
"Sorry, ese. I've been a little fucked up, you know?"
"Yes," the constable said. "That's why I wanted to speak with you. Do you mind?"
Like the fucker would go away if he refused. Ramon shrugged, added another little pain to his list of injuries, and gestured toward the small plastic chair beside the hospital bed. The constable nodded his imitation of thanks and sat on the foot of the bed instead, his weight pulling the mattress toward him.
"I was wondering what exactly happened."
"You mean?" Ramon gestured at his ruin of a body. The constable nodded.
"I got fucked up," Ramon said. "I went out surveying up north. That's what I do."
"I know."
"Yeah. Well. Anyway, I was up there, and I landed my van at the river, right by this overhang. I figured it was like shelter, right? So, middle of the night, the fucking thing gives out. Must have been three, four tons of rock. Knocks my van right into the river."
Ramon slapped his palms together, the needle in his arm tugging at his flesh in a way that was disconcertingly familiar.
"I was lucky to get out alive," he said. The constable smiled coolly.
"You got in a fight?"
Ramon felt his chest tighten. The heart monitor to his left betrayed him, the blue LED numbers jumping to something just shy of a hundred. The constable almost suppressed a smile.
"I don't know what you're talking about," Ramon said. "I thought you were here about the accident."
"The 'accident' left knife wounds in your side and your leg," the constable said. "Why don't you tell me about that."
"Oh, shit. That?" Ramon said and laughed. "No, man. That's my own dumb fault. I had my knife, out of the field kit. Used to make the raft. Anyway, I was trying to cut some vines, and I slipped. Fell right on it. I thought I was dead, you know?"
"So. No fighting?"
"Who's out there to fight with?" Ramon said. The blue numbers were slipping back down. The constable seemed unfazed.
"I notice that the field pack wasn't among the things recovered with you."
"Maybe it fell off the raft. I'm not so clear on those last couple days out there."
"Can you tell me where your van was when this landslide took it?"
"Nah. It was all logged on the computer. It wasn't the main river though. It was one of the tributaries." There might be a hundred places that would match the description. Proving Ramon was full of shit just got a whole lot harder. The constable looked peeved.
You could tell him the truth, a small voice in the back of Ramon's mind murmured. Tell him about Maneck and the yunea, the sahael, and the other Ramon. You could even give him proof. You could lead them all right up to that pinche mountain and everything under it. They took you prisoner, tortured you, almost got you killed. You don't owe them shit. You've got no reason to lie.
Except that the man was a cop, and Ramon was a killer.
And besides which, fuck him.
The constable coughed, rubbed his chin. The subject was about to change. Ramon took a breath, trying not to do anything that would change the readings on his monitors. No wonder they wanted to question him here and not wait until he could get out.
"Do you know a woman named Justina Montoya?" the constable asked.
Ramon frowned, looking for the trap in the question. He shook his head.
"Don't think so," Ramon said.
"Calls herself Keiko. Maybe you know her by that name. She's the governor's secretary. She was showing the ambassador around. Tour guide."
Ramon thought of the woman at the El Rey, the European's date. The laughing woman. She'd straightened her hair to look Asian. Maybe she would give herself a stupid name too.
"Don't think so, man," Ramon said.
"How about Johnny Joe Cardenas?"
"Shit, man. Everyone knows Johnny Joe."
"He's a friend of yours?"
"He's not anybody's friend. I respect him. Like you respect a redjacket, you know?"
"He doesn't have a very good reputation, does he? I thought it was strange, then, when I heard that he'd gotten in a fight defending Justina Montoya. He's not the sort of man to do something ... chivalrous like that."
The stink of danger made Ramon's skin crawl.
"Defend her from what?" Ramon asked. "Someone try to rape her?"
"Maybe," the cop said. "Maybe he would have defended her from that, even Johnny