Green Desert - Chapter 6.5.1 - Sétıpímo

My finger was on the doorbell to ring it a second time with Judge Rapımaré opened the door.

His wrinkled face lit up with surprise upon seeing me. “Sétıpímo!” His gravelly voice matched his buzzcut hair, as if he belonged on a battlefield rather than in a courtroom. But this was his house and I was calling at dinnertime. “What brings you by? A social call, I hope. Or something to do with the cop killer?” He stepped aside, holding the door open. “Won’t you come in.”

“Thank you, Ríko.” I entered the well-lit, high-ceiling entryway. A television talked in the study down the hall.

“They’ve just shown the crashed helicopter on the news.” Ríko led me down the hall. “They don’t know what happened. Do you?”

“No.” My knowledge was fourth-hand, through the dispatcher and Laparıpasamé and the news crew. And the brass wouldn’t let me go help. Too old to be useful. Dead deputies. Injured deputies. And I was too old to help.

In one corner of the dark, book-lined study, a fifty-centimeter television tuned to Channel Six proclaimed Breaking News. Irézí Sıvíhí blathered nonsense with that stupid grin on her face. Behind her, our helicopter lay on its side, someone crawling inside it. I stepped closer. The fuzzy image turned its head and I saw a familiar face: Deputy Nulıpésha.

I sighed in relief. At least she was alive.