Free Sacred Clowns by Tony Hillerman

councilmembers tonight, but I’ll be in after that.”
    “What else are you pushing with the tribe?” Janet said. “Does the firm still represent Peabody Coal?”
    “We lost ’em,” Zeck said. “I’m here this time solely as counsel for Continental Collectors Corporation. They’re lining up the paperwork to use an old strip mine over in New Mexico as a waste disposal site. Hire a hundred or so local folks at about eighteen dollars an hour to handle the machinery. Cause a big reduction in the unemployment rate. Put a big influx of property tax money into the school funds. And, after it fills up in about a hundred years, get that old hole in the ground reclaimed under a thick layer of topsoil so grass will grow on it. Mr. Chee here can tell you all about it.”
    “Yes,” Janet said. “It sounds great if you like a garbage landfill in your backyard.”
    “You know anything that could be helpful?” Zeck asked. He glanced down at Chee and then back at Janet. “I think we might need a legal consultant here.”
    “I’m working for the Navajo Nation,” Janet said. “I’m not for—” She paused, picking the word. “—for hire,” she concluded.
    “It would be a great way to represent the tribe,” Zeck said. “I know it’s mostly on Tano land, not on the reservation, but the rail spurs cross some Checkerboard land so it’d be worth something to have the Council for it.”
    “I’ve heard it would be a toxic waste dump,” Chee said. “Chemicals. Maybe radioactive stuff. Why don’t you store it there at Santa Fe? Or in Connecticut. Or Maryland. Someplace near your own backyard.”
    Zeck smiled down at him. “I bet you know the answer to that. It would cost too much money. They don’t have a big, empty open pit mine back there in Connecticut with the roads and railroad tracks already built.”
    “And nonunion labor,” Janet said.
    Zeck transferred his smile to her. “That, too,” he said. “Labor is cheaper out here. I’ll bet you’ve noticed that yourself.”
    “I took a pay cut,” she said. “But it costs a person less to live out here. Costs less than Washington I mean. And I’m not talking about money.”
    Zeck’s smile widened. “Janet,” he said, “you haven’t lost your sting, have you? But have you become a tree hugger? Or, as we call them in dilettante Santa Fe, a fern fondler?”
    She didn’t answer because another voice from behind Chee was saying, “Aha, Miss Pete. I have caught you consorting with the enemy.”
    “Here comes the man from Nature First,” Zeck said. “Hello, Roger. How are you?”
    “Fine,” the man said. “How about you?”
    “I think Janet and I are both losing it. We’re arguing, and we’re both lawyers, and lawyers don’t argue without getting paid for it. With that I have to leave you.”
    So did the man from Nature First. “I’ll be right back,” he said to Janet. “I want to tell the waitress not to hold that table for me.”
    Zeck looked after him, then down at Janet. “Well,” he said, “I think you already have a luncheon conference. Or is it a consultancy?” He chuckled. “I’ll see you later.”
    “He’s not joining us, is he?” Chee asked. “That second guy?”
    “That’s Applebee. I guess he’s out here working the other side—trying to stop the waste dump. You said you’d like to talk to him,” Janet said. “Here’s your chance. He wanted to see me, so I asked him to join us.”
    “Oh.” He’d intended it to sound neutral, but it came out disappointed.
    Janet looked up at him. “I guess I could have gotten out of it. I could still meet him later. But he’ll want to talk about the waste dump and you’re interested in that. Or I thought you were.”
    “That’s okay,” Chee said. “Sure I am.”
    “Did you want to talk to me privately? You know. Not just for a chat?”
    Chee managed a grin. “Always,” he said. “I want your undivided attention. Just you and me. We just shut out the world.”
    She