Nantz prowled around, burning nervous energy.
Service sat, thinking a nap would be nice. Why didn’t Nantz park herself? She had ants in her pants. She had spoken to Kira? Would’ve liked to have heard that exchange. No, you wouldn’t, he corrected himself.
It was late afternoon when they hiked farther up the Mosquito River to the site with the single column of granite. Once again Lemich collected samples and studied the area with intense concentration.
While Lemich worked, Service and Nantz made a camp on the west bank of the river. Nantz built a fire. Service took two slices of venison tenderloin out of the cold pack in his ruck and braced a small grate over two logs with the fire in between. He hadn’t counted on three for dinner. Nantz disappeared for more than an hour and returned with wild strawberries stuffed into a two pint-sized Baggies.
They worked, side by side, saying nothing, each seeming to know what the other was going to do before they did it.
As it neared dark Nantz said, “You want me to fetch Rocky?”
“He’ll be along when he’s ready.”
Nantz sat down and poked the fire with the toe of her boot. “Level with me, Grady. What’re we doing here?”
“Remember the glass Newf found?”
Her eyes said she remembered.
“They were several garnets—and a diamond.”
“Right,” she said as she grinned and poked the fire again.
“I’m serious,” he said. Her eyes narrowed.
Lemich came into camp with his sample bags bulging. His face was flushed and he looked dusty and tired. He dropped the bags unceremoniously, sat down, and slumped back on the ground.
The fire crackled. Service watched tendrils of campfire smoke rise and drift.
Lemich sat up and looked at the CO. His voice was stern yet assertive. “Why did you bring me here?”
Service exhaled. “Because a man was murdered on the river over where the fire was. Things are going on here that we don’t understand and I think the rocks are somehow connected.”
“I think there’s kimberlite here,” Lemich said, sucking in a deep breath. “It shouldn’t be here, but it is kimberlite. I’ll need to do chemical assays and such, but it’s kimberlite. One pipe for sure, maybe a pair. And if we can see two, you can bet there are more around here. These things always occur in clusters.”
“Like genital warts,” Nantz said.
Lemich chuckled. “That’s a good one.”
“Kimberlite?” Service said.
“Don’t play the goofball with me,” the professor said.
“A chopper was seen here, possibly carrying a magnetometer, flying a pattern just across the river. A while before that, I ran into a stranger with a hammer like yours and as soon as I met him, he got nervous and bugged out. Two fires have been set around here since then. Two parcels of land in the Tract are leased by a man named Knipe. He’s originally from Pelkie.”
“Pelkie?” Lemich had a sly grin.
“What?” Service asked.
“Back in the eighties the US Geological Survey published a paper by a couple of geologists who believed there might be cryptovolcanic structures in the Pelkie area. This was based on their finding Paleozoic rocks that are often found covering kimberlites.”
“Were these pipe things found near Pelkie?”
“Not that I know of, but that paper no doubt got the corporate and wildcat diamond hunters’ attention. They started looking at geologic formations and ended up moving their focus southwest toward the Wisconsin border.”
“Dow Chemical?” Service said.
“They were just one among several companies,” Lemich said, nodding.
“Exactly how they were involved is not at all clear.”
Service said, “Dow Chemical moved into Crystal Falls to look for diamonds in the eighties. Knipe moved down there about the same time, and now he owns a lot of land in the area where pipes have been found.”
“The word is out that the mining companies haven’t found gemstones and are cutting their losses,” Lemich said, “though it’s always hard to figure out exactly what these outfits are up to.”
“Knipe hasn’t left,” Service said. “Diamonds scare me, Rocky. All it takes is a rumor to start a run of prospectors. If that happens here in the Tract, it will be a disaster for this place. I’m not going to let that happen.”
Lemich grunted and lowered his voice. “Who said anything about diamonds here? We’re talking about kimberlites, and this is pure speculation on my part. We have a pipe here, maybe two. Or none. Over by Crystal Falls they have a heap of pipes and reportedly found microdiamonds in more than half of them. Let me tell you, that defies the hell out of geologic odds. Usually one in ten kimberlite pipes has micros, but maybe one in a hundred has real gems. Of three thousand diamond mines in the world, maybe twenty are paying off. Diamond hunting is a humongous gamble. The odds just plain suck. Even if you find gems in a rich pipe, you have to dig and move fifty thousand tons of rock to get five thousand carats. On the other hand, if you actually find gem-quality stones, you can forget the odds.”
“What makes you think there’s kimberlite here, and what exactly are these pipes you keep talking about?”
“The technical term for pipe is diatreme. It’s a volcanic eruption. Lava shoots up a hundred miles or so from the earth’s core and explodes on the surface. Understand, this happened during the Paleozoic period. We’re not talking hot news and we’re talking about small structures, not major volcanoes. And this usually happened in hours, which is the geologic equivalent of the speed of light, eh? I’m talking fast. After the Paleozoic, glaciers came down from Canada, then retreated, leaving the bedrock and pipes under hundreds of feet of debris. Kimberlite is dark green, but exposure to weather and erosion turns it reddish brown. When the lava rises it brings all sorts of smaller rocks, which mix into the kimberlite. By the time it gets spit out on the surface, it’s like a funny-looking purple clay. I’ve seen some evidence of this stuff at all three sites today. The amazing thing is that these formations are nowhere near Crystal Falls or Pelkie. Not even close. Probably it’s all connected underground, but this is the first time I’ve seen evidence that maybe we can correlate aboveground connections of this kind up here.”
Scientists loved theories, big-picture crap.
“How long will tests take?”
“A few days.”
“Then what?”
“Not all pipes have diamonds. Most don’t. To find out you have to drill down two or three hundred feet with a five-inch-diameter bore. You take a couple of tons of rock from each boring, break it up, examine the contents, and analyze.”
Nantz listened attentively, but didn’t interrupt. Not even with her usual one-liners.
Service said, “Chances are there’s nothing here?”
Rocky Lemich nodded. “If you believe the odds, that’s right, but I’ve been in this game a long time and you just never know. People in the diamond hunt take it real slow. And they tend to be very cautious and extremely thorough. It doesn’t cost much to send out mineral cruisers to scope formations, but it costs heaps to do even rudimentary exploratory drilling.”
“But if somebody got a wild hair and started to drill here, it could start a rush.”
Lemich agreed. “True enough. Diamonds send dreamers off the deep end. But,” he added, “this is wilderness and the law doesn’t allow drilling.”
“Laws can be changed,” Nantz said.
Service looked at her and turned back to the old goalie. “What does a diamond mine look like?”
“Well, it’s somewhat like standard hard-rock mining, like copper and iron used to be up here. A kimberlite pipe tends to be ragged and ziggy-zaggy. The pipe is twisted like a strand of broken DNA and narrows the deeper you go. Think of an askew funnel, all bent to hell during the violent uplift. You never know exactly where diamonds will be in the pipe. Usually they’re dispersed and found in pockets in different parts of the pipe. Magnetic readi
ngs can help identify target sites. You bore sample holes. Poke around, look in water for evidence of gems being spit out and eroded by hydraulic pressure. Most diamonds are first found by some schmuck, and then engineers follow the diamond trail back to the original source. If you decide you want to dig for real, you offset and dig vertically. Once you have the shaft in, you dig sideways to intersect the pipe. Some mines in Africa go down three or four thousand feet. Here in the U.P. we have old iron and copper mines that go down as deep as nine thousand feet. But you don’t sink a shaft until you know you have a bloody good chance for the gems.”
“How far away from the pipe would the shaft be?”
“That can vary. Three hundred yards, four hundred. The farther away it is, the more expensive the cost of engineering and extraction. In mining, depth and distance are money.”
“Is there a limit?”
Lemich pursed his lips and squinted into the smoke. “If you have stable bedrock below you, the only limit is how much dough you want to spend to get at it.”
Meaning the leased properties Knipe had were close enough to where Newf had found the diamond. If Knipe had his eye on diamonds here, he had access. A chopper could bring in construction equipment and people and haul out rock. They would never have to touch public land, so they couldn’t be gotten for trespassing. And there was nothing to stop them from digging if the DEQ approved a development plan and granted them a permit, which under the Bozian regime was a paper requirement. This was shaky ground. Knipe had a loophole and Bozian had weakened the state’s environmental agency to the point where it was rubber-stamping everything. Service felt his stomach roll.
“What about garnets?”
“Nature’s way. If you find diamonds, you usually find garnets. Yin and yang.” Lemich looked at Service. “Do you want my opinion? I couldn’t care less if there are diamonds here or anywhere in the Yoop. I like it the way it is and I know history and what a bloody mess copper and iron brought. You want me to forget all this, it’s forgotten. But it’s gonna cost you.”
Nantz and Service glanced at each other. “What’s the price?” he asked.
“You gotta get back into hockey, eh? Coach some kiddies.”
Nantz frowned. “What hockey, you guys?”
Kids? Service thought. “Deal,” he said reluctantly.
The two men shook hands.
“What hockey? C’mon you guys,” Nantz said with a mock whine.
Service grilled the tenderloin steaks for them, cutting his in half to share with Nantz. Lemich ate heartily while Nantz chattered away in the flickering light of the fire. The wild strawberries were so sweet that the three of them closed their eyes and let themselves get lost in their thoughts.
After dinner Service walked into the woods and used his handheld radio to get a phone patch to Kira. There was no answer at his place. He wondered if she was still ticked off.
When he got back to camp, Nantz was helping Lemich put up his tent. Hers was already up. Service put his on the other side of Lemich.
When they were in their tents Service doused the fire, leaving a pall of smoke lingering over the camp. Frogs peeped. Way off in the distance a coyote yipped. Sometime in the night he heard a rustling sound and woke up, but before he could react a hand closed over his mouth.
“Not a word,” Nantz whispered as she wriggled into position beside him. “Are you serious about diamonds?”
“One diamond,” he said.
“Don’t niggle,” she scolded. “Where there’s one, there may be more.”
“Get out of my tent,” he whispered.
“Okay, call me crazy, then live with it. I listened patiently all day and kept my mouth shut, now I want answers.” She was behind him, her breath on his neck. “How many of the stones were garnets?”
“Seven of them,” he said.
“Jesus,” she whispered.
“You heard what Lemich said. There are pipes here.”
She said, “This could be a disaster.”
“If the governor gets wind of this, all he’ll see are dollar signs; he’ll make all the usual political noises about environmental safety, then order the DEQ to make sure mining companies get what they want as long as the state gets a fat cut.”
“Fighting the governor could be risky. He likes to get his way, and usually he does,” Nantz said.
She was right about that. “We have to fight silently and smart until we’re forced to go public. When that happens, we want to be set up so there’s nothing anybody can do to get at these pipes.”
“Don’t underestimate Bozian,” she said. “He looks and talks like a clown, but he’s a heavyweight. There’s talk in his party that he could eventually reach the White House.”
How did she know such things? “I’m not underestimating him.” He remembered Bozian’s warning that he had a long memory.
“Can we trust the professor?” she asked.
“We have to,” he said. His gut said yes.
She murmured and nestled closer, and he tried to pull away.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
“You can’t stay.”
“Don’t be a worrywart. I’ll be out before daylight.”
“We have a neighbor.”
“He’ll never know,” she whispered.
“Good night, you two,” Lemich called pleasantly from his tent.
“Oh well,” Nantz said, laughing softly.
She was warm and soft, but he slept restlessly, thinking about Kira. When he awoke in the morning Nantz was gone, just as she had promised.
The three of them had coffee while Service scrambled Egg Beaters with bacon bits, garlic powder, and onion flakes.
When they packed up, Nantz got Service aside. “Drop him off and come back, okay?”
“Why?”
“We need to look for more pebbles. If we find any we need to cache them until we figure out a more permanent solution.”
She was right. “Quick as I can get back,” he said pulling out his folding knife and handing it to her. “Notch a boot.”
Nantz stared at him. “Why?”
He showed her the sole of one of his boots. It was marked with a tiny triangle. “When I see your tracks, I’ll know it’s you.”
She grinned. “You’ll know mine!”
Lemich promised to get back to him with test results in a week to ten days. He expected Kira to be at the clinic, but her truck was parked at the end of the cabin. Service took the professor to his vehicle and went inside. Newf and Cat were both glad to see him. Kira was sitting at a table looking troubled, her eyes puffy.
“Hi,” he said.
She answered, “Grady, I’m sorry. I think I know now how your ex felt. I’m really sorry,” she added breathlessly, “but I’m just not cut out for this. I can’t live with you. I just can’t. It’s not your fault, Grady. I think for now we shouldn’t see each other. You can keep Newf. She was yours from the beginning.”
They’d only lived together for a week and she was already bailing out.
“I can’t take Newf today,” he said. The dog nuzzled his leg.
“I’ll take her for now, but I want you to keep the bed. Sleeping on footlockers isn’t healthy. I am really sorry to do this so abruptly. You made a wonderful gesture for us, and I appreciate that, but I’m just not as strong as you.”
He hated beginnings because they inexorably led to endings.
Her speech done, she took her purse, called Newf, went out to her truck, and drove away. Service watched until the truck was out of sight. He considered going after her, but what would that accomplish? Her mind was made up. He wished he could just sit and let Kira’s words settle in, but there was no time. He had to get back to the Tract. Nantz was waiting and duty called.
He telephoned del Olmo. “What have you got?”
“I can’t figure it out,” the younger CO said. “Knipe has a lot of parcels, maybe twenty-five of them, but none of them is closer than a quarter mile to any of the suspected pipe are
as.”
Service knew why. A slanted mine could intercept a pipe. “But all the parcels are in relatively close proximity?”
“So far.”
“Any that are miles away?”
“Nope. If you listen to rumors over here, they’re all adjacent to kimberlites, but nobody can say for sure because the exact location of the sites is being held close.”
It figured. Knipe was going to try to cash in, one way or another. The question was, How?
“Here’s a good one,” del Olmo said. “He’s got one site fenced in and electrified. There are motion sensors all around, and security people are on duty around the clock. Dogs, too.”
“Where?”
“Not far from Lake Ellen and one of the Dow properties.”
Did Knipe have a pipe on his property or was he trying to burrow into somebody else’s? Why the fence and heavy security arrangements?
“Simon, how well do you know your DEQ counterparts?”
“Well enough.”
“We need to know if Knipe has a permit to drill.”
“He’d need an approved plan first.”
“Exactly.”
“Si, jeffe.”
“Be circumspect, Simon.”
“Hey,” del Olmo said. “That’s my religious preference.”
The next call went to Gus Turnage. There were no messages on his answering machine. Cleaned out by Kira?
When he reached Gus, he sounded tired. “I was out all night.”
Service said, “Did you call?”
“I’m just getting in,” Turnage said. “I’ve been dogging those names. One of the three no longer works at the university. His name is Fox and he left maybe six months ago. People over there seemed pretty nervous and evasive about him. Could be he was canned. I’m trying to nail that down. The other two haven’t done a job in a year and never up here in the Yoop.”
“Where’s Fox now?”
“He left to quote ‘pursue other interests’ end quote. That sound like personnel-puke talk to you?”
It did.
“I don’t have the foggiest where he went, but I’ll stay after it, okay?”
Ice Hunter (Woods Cop Mystery 1) Page 23
