By Tony Hillerman
At a moonlit Indian ruin—where "thieves of time" ravage sacred flooring within the identify of profit—a famous anthropologist vanishes whereas at the verge of creating a startling, history-altering discovery. At an historic burial website, amid stolen items and desecrated bones, corpses are came upon, shot by way of bullets becoming the gun of the lacking scientist.
There are smooth mysteries buried in despoiled old locations. And as blood flows all too freely, Navajo Tribal Policemen Joe Leaphorn and Jim Chee needs to plunge into the earlier to unearth an magnificent fact and a cold-hearted killer.
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Extra info for A Thief of Time
On the seventh or eighth night after the death of Lady Madeline, I experienced the full power of these feelings. For hours I lay awake, struggling against a sense of fear. I blamed my surroundings — the dusty furniture, the torn curtains which moved about in the wind of a rising storm, the ancient bed on which I lay. But my efforts were useless. At last, thoroughly afraid, I got up and looked as hard as I could into the darkness of the room. I heard — or thought that I heard - certain low sounds that came, from time to time, through the pauses in the storm.
In spite of its wide swing (which was now thirty feet or more), and its great force, it would not, for several minutes, cut into my flesh. At this thought, I paused. I dared not think further. I watched the blade as it flew above me. Down — steadily down it came. To the right — to the left - far and wide — with the terrible whistle of death! Down - certainly down just above my chest! I struggled violently to free my left arm. I shook and turned my head at every swing. I opened and closed my eyes as the bright blade flashed above me.
I did not know what answer to make to my friend. He admitted that much of the unhappiness which he suffered had a simple, and quite natural, origin. It was the long and severe illness of a greatly loved sister — his close companion for many 27 years — his last and only relative on earth. ' While he spoke, Lady Madeline (for that was her name) passed slowly through the room at the far end, and, without having noticed my presence, disappeared. I watched her with a surprise and deep fear that I could not account for.