A Study in Sherlock

He was silent again for a while. “I was afraid,” he said. “They wanted me to talk to the old man in Eyak. But they don’t know that there’re no Eyak speakers left. When my grandmother died, the language died with her. I know what it sounds like, but I don’t have more than a couple cuss words.”

Eyak, Kate told me later, was an Alaska Native language from east of Cordova and west of Yakutat. The Tlingits crowded it out from the south and the Athabascans from the north and the Aleuts from the west, and Kate says after the whites took over, the elders wanted the kids to learn English so they wouldn’t be at a disadvantage when they grew up. When the kids got sent away to the BIA (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bureau of Indian Affairs) schools in Sitka and Outside, they could even be beaten for talking anything but English. So most of the Eyak speakers are gone, except maybe a few elders.

Like the old man in the cabin.

“They brought me a long way, used up a lot of gas getting me there,” Totemoff said. “If they found out I couldn’t speak Eyak, I was afraid they would kill me.”

He was quiet again. I was getting used to his silences. They had a rhythm to them, he’d get so many words out, and then stop for a while like he was recharging. The tougher the story got, the more his grammar deteriorated. “The old man figured it out before they did. He started making signs when they’re not looking. I think maybe he spoke English just fine. From the way he looked at them sometimes.

“When they hit me I’d say the few words I knew. Wet snow. Dry snow. Snow drift. Bear. Wolf. Fish. Beaver. Titty.”

I don’t think he meant to say that last word because his face got red again.

“I mixed them up and changed the way I said them so they would think I was saying whole sentences. They made me tell him, over and over again, to sign the papers. The younger man pulled out a bunch of papers and waved them at him. The elder, I think he was pretending to be weaker than he really was, he’d just shake his head and moan.” Totemoff smiled for the first time. “What words he said that I understood, I’m pretty sure my mom would have washed my mouth out for using.” He shrugged. “But they don’t know the difference.”

Another silence. “I was there for a day and a night, I think. They had the windows covered up. It was a long time.” He paused. “Once when the younger man was outside and the older man was feeding the stove, the elder, he whispered something to me.”

We waited. Again, Kate didn’t move a muscle. I’m not sure if me and Max and Mutt even registered on her peripheral vision, she was concentrating so hard on every word Totemoff said.

“I was hungry and thirsty and hungover, so I’m not sure, but it sounded like he said, ‘Tell Myra I said no.’ ” He was quiet for a long time then.

“I think I must have passed out, because the next thing I knew I was on a bench in front of the convention center and the guy from the Community Patrol was trying to wake me up and get me into the van to take me to the Brother Francis Shelter. There was a cop there, too. I tried to tell him what happened, but I guess he figured I was drunk and he wouldn’t listen.”

Kate didn’t say anything but I wouldn’t be that cop for a million dollars.

“I stayed at the shelter for a couple of days, until I felt better. I didn’t know what to do. And then I remembered my dad’s friend Max.”

For the first time he looked directly at Kate. “I’m worried about the elder.”

He sat back in his chair. He was done talking.

Max waited a minute before he drained his fifth—or maybe his sixth—martini and cleared his throat. “Victoria’s got me up to my ears in a security overhaul,” he said, looking at Kate. “My life ain’t my own anymore, thanks to you, or I’d look into this myself. When I heard you were in town, I thought you might take it on.”

Kate looked at me. “We’re weathered out of the Park for the next day or two anyway. Might as well.” She turned to Totemoff. “I have to ask you some questions, Gilbert. No right or wrong here, okay? Take your time, tell me as much as you can remember.” Totemoff nodded without looking up.

“When you took off in the airplane. Was it on pavement, or on gravel?”

“Gravel.”

“Could you hear any other planes?”

He started rubbing his legs and he still wouldn’t look at any of us, but he nodded.

“What kind of planes? Small planes? Jets?”

“Both,” he said.

“Jets? Like they were close by?”

“Real close,” he said.

Kate nodded. “Do you have an idea of what kind of plane they put you in?”

“Sounded like a Cessna,” he said. “They were both sitting up front. Maybe a 172. But maybe a 170.”

“Okay. What about a description of the two strangers? What did they look like?”

“They were white.”

“Young? Your age? Or old? Like Max?”

“Old,” Totemoff said. “Like you.”

Max laughed. Well, it was more like a cackle. Kate ignored him. “Tall? Or short?”

Totemoff shrugged. “Little taller than me, maybe.” He was about five foot six.

“Fat or thin?”

Totemoff shrugged again. “The older guy was kind of bony. The younger guy had all the muscle.”