"He wanted to move in?" I said.
"He wanted to divorce his wife and marry me."
"And you wouldn't."
Again the strength. "I will not leave you," she said.
"Nor I you," I said.
"Do you suppose you could get away for a little while?" Susan said.
"In two weeks I can get away for as long as I want to."
"Would you come to San Francisco and visit me?"
"Yes."
"In two weeks?"
"Yes."
"It makes me feel less scared," Susan said.
"Me too," I said. "It makes me want to sing `I Left My Heart in San Francisco.'"
"It does?"
"Yeah," I said. "Want to hear me sing a couple choruses in perfect imitation of Tony Bennett?"
"No," Susan said, "not ever." And she laughed. And I laughed. And the two of us sat alone and far, and laughed carefully together at the verge of different oceans.
CHAPTER 25
I left Sherry with the confession and picture, back in the envelope. I took the other envelope and drove down to Quincy to visit Mickey. This time when I went in the two sluggers were there along with Paultz.
I tossed the manila envelope on the desk. The squinty-eyed one was chewing a toothpick. Nobody spoke. Paultz picked up the envelope and looked at the contents. He read my notes of Winston's spilled beans. Then he put the picture and the notes back into the envelope and put the envelope on the table next to a dirty white coffee mug that said Canobie Lake Park on it in red letters.
"This is going to get you killed, pal," Paultz said to me.
"Yeah, but only once," I said.
"You got copies of this shit," Paultz said. I didn't comment.
"But that's all you got," he said. "And when Winston's dead you'll have even less."
I waited.
Paultz sucked a little on his lower lip. "And when you're dead you'll have nothing at all."
"Be restful though," I said.
"You're going after a very big fish with a very goddamned small piece of bait. It doesn't make sense."
Paultz took his rimless glasses off, and plucked a Kleenex from a blue flowered box on the table and polished the glasses and put them back on.
"I'm missing something," he said. "What do you want?"
"I want a trust fund," I said. "One million dollars."
"Too bad," Paultz said. "I heard you were different. That you weren't a chiseler." He shrugged.
"It's for the church."
"Winston's church?"
"Yes."
"There ain't a million in my whole operation."
"Then I take you down too," I said.
Paultz smiled faintly. "You think you can do that? You think anyone can find any evidence around here of anything but the construction business?"
"I have Winston's confession."
Paultz nodded at the table where the envelope was.
"That won't stand in court, you know goddamned well it won't. And Winston will be dead, so he can't testify."
"And some of your customers will talk," I said.
"Who?"
"People you wholesale to."
"Name one."
I shook my head.
"And what happens to them when they testify?"
"They get immunity from prosecution," I said, "and you go away and they take over the company."
Paultz looked at the ceiling. He sucked his lower lip again.
"Could be Marcus. The big nigger with you today could be from Marcus."
I didn't say anything.
"And you could be full of shit," he said. Which was getting rather close to home. I had no idea if Broz would let anyone testify with or without immunity. I had no idea if anyone would give anyone immunity.
"And if I go for the trust?" Paultz said.
"I leave you in place."
"You don't care if I push junk on helpless children," Paultz said.
"Someone will," I said. "You're no worse than the next piece of dog shit that would run your business."
The squinty-eyed slugger said, "Your mouth gonna get you hurt bad pretty soon."
I kept looking at Paultz. "What say, Mickey, want me to get a trust drawn up?"
"Two hundred and fifty," Paultz said.
"Five," I said.
"Three fifty," Paultz said.
"I'll get it drawn up," I said. Nobody said anything else. I left.
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Valediction s-11 Page 15
