“Yes.”
“You got any evidence?” Quirk said.
“Got no evidence we can use.”
“Women won’t testify?”
“No.”
“So what are you supposed to do?” Quirk said. “Scare him?”
“I tried that,” I said.
“How’d that work for you?” Quirk said.
“It didn’t,” I said.
“Disappointing,” Quirk said.
“Makes me feel old,” I said.
“Want me to stop by and have a talk with him?” Quirk said. “Unofficially?”
I shook my head.
“Don’t think he’d care,” I said.
“About the homicide commander?” Quirk said.
“I don’t think cops worry him,” I said.
“Now I feel old,” Quirk said.
“This is a pretty cool guy,” I said. “He knows what he’s doing, and he doesn’t seem to scare.”
“Like you and me,” Quirk said.
“Yeah, but he’s better-looking,” I said.
“Than you and me?” Quirk said. “How is that possible?”
Chapter15
SUSAN AND I made love on Sunday morning at her place with the bedroom door closed and Pearl grumbling unhappily outside it. When we were through, Susan whisked the covers up over us, as she always did, and we lay quietly on the bed for a while.
“You know, don’t you,” Susan said, “that I was a cheerleader at Swampscott High School?”
“I do know that,” I said.
Susan flipped the covers back and rolled out of bed, and stood naked beside it.
“Sis-boom-bah,” she said, and jumped into the air and kicked her heels back.
“Is that in honor of my performance?” I said.
“Ours,” she said. “And us.”
I nodded.
“Sis-boom-bah,” I said.
Susan opened the bedroom door and Pearl bounded in, jumped on the bed, turned around maybe fifteen times, and flopped down where Susan had been. I looked at her. Then I looked at Susan.
“There’s a definite difference,” I said.
“Pearl was never a cheerleader,” Susan said.
We showered and dressed, which took me considerably less time than it took Susan. She was just snapping her bra when I headed for the kitchen to start breakfast. Pearl stayed where she was.
By the time I had made my whole-wheat blackberry pancakes and put them on the plates, she came out with her face on and her clothes in place. It was weekend informal, a scoop-neck black T-shirt, jeans, and loafers. But everything fit her so perfectly and she was so beautiful that I felt the same rush of amazement and triumph I always felt in moments like these.
She sat at the table and sipped her orange juice. I put the pot of coffee on the table and sat across from her and looked at her. She looked back at me, and finished her orange juice, and said something that sounded like “hum,” which I knew to be positive. I drank some orange juice and poured us some coffee. Pearl sat attentively beside the table. I would have been quite willing to discuss the particulars of what Susan and I had just done together, but I knew it violated some inward standard of privacy that she maintained. Sex is good; talking about it afterward is not good. So I shut up. Shutting up rarely leads to anything bad.
“I was thinking about your person,” she said.
“You’re my person,” I said.
“No, no, I mean the Gary Eisenhower person. Did you tell me he has sex every day?”
“Seems to,” I said.
“With people he doesn’t love,” she said.
“That’s my impression,” I said.
“What do you think of that?” she said.
“Sounds great,” I said. “But, present company excluded, of course, it is really an adolescent fantasy, which, humor aside, most adult men would get bored with.”
“Would you?”
“Yes,” I said.
“With me?” she said.
“Never been tested.”
“Do you think we make love enough?” Susan said.
“Yes,” I said. “And very high quality.”
She nodded and took a small bite of pancake.
“Yum,” she said. “Blackberries.”
“Did I pass?” I said.
“Pass?”
“The little quiz you just gave me,” I said. “Did I pass?”
She smiled.
“Yes,” she said. “But I was actually thinking about Gary Whosis.”
“You think he wouldn’t pass?”
“I think if he does in fact have sex with as many women as often as he does, that there’s something more than simple pleasure.”
“That would be true of us,” I said.
“That our sex life is about more than simple pleasure?”
“Yes.”
“True, and what is it?”
I grinned at her.
“Love?”
“That would be my guess,” Susan said.
I grinned at her.
“Sis-boom-bah!” I said.
Chapter16
WE WERE ALL in the conference room again, me, Elizabeth Shaw, and the gang of four, as Gary had named them.
“His real name is Goran Pappas,” I said. “He also uses the name Elliot Herzog. He lives on Beacon Street, just before it climbs the hill. He’s done time for swindling. He appears to have preselected you, using information provided him by a woman at the health club. There appear to be other women in his life beyond you four.”
“His name is Goran?” Regina said.
“He uses the nickname Gary,” I said.
“Gary Pappas?” she said.
“How’d you find all this out?” Abigail Larson said.
“Amazing, isn’t it?”
“No, really, how do you know?” Abigail said.
I looked inscrutable.
“Vee haf our vays,” I said.
“It seems to me our next question,” Elizabeth said, “is now that we have him located, what steps can we take to contain him?”
The women looked at one another. Then they all looked at me.
“What should we do?” Nancy said.
“He’s a blackmailer,” I said. “We could arrest him.”
“Would we have to testify?” Nancy said.
“Yes.”
Abigail looked at Elizabeth.
“Is that true?”
“You’re the victims,” Elizabeth said. “You’d have to make the complaint. You’d have to testify in court, if the case went there. We could probably keep it fairly low-key, with luck.”
“But my husband would have to know,” Nancy said.
“Very likely,” Elizabeth said.
“Then I won’t do it,” Nancy said.
I looked around the room. All of the women were shaking their heads.
“Couldn’t you just make him stop?” Regina said. “You know, beat him up or something?”
“Several things against that,” I said. “One, I don’t like doing it. Two, it’s illegal. Three, I believe that if I did, he’d blow the whistle on you.”
“Blow the whistle?” Abigail said.
“Send evidence of your infidelity to your husbands,” I said.
Everybody sat. No one said anything. Everybody looked at one another.
Finally Regina said in a very soft voice, “Could you kill him?”
“No,” I said.
“Do you know someone who would?” she said.
“Yes.”
“Could you get him to do it?”
“No,” I said.
“But why?” Regina said.
“That’s enough,” Elizabeth said. “There will be no more talk of that nature from any of you, if you wish me to continue as your attorney.”
Everyone was quiet, as if they’d been chastised by the teacher.
“I could try to arrange some kind of payoff,” I said.
“He wants so much,” Beth said.
&
nbsp; “How much?”
“Twenty-five thousand dollars a month,” Beth said.
“From each of you?”
The other women nodded.
“I have access to some money of my own. Chet is very generous,” Beth said. “But I can’t keep paying out that kind of money without eventually having to turn to him.”
The other women nodded in agreement.
“Can you come up with one big payoff?” I said. “I might be able to persuade him to take it and move on, rather than have me on his case all the time.”
“I can’t without Chet knowing,” Beth said.
“Me, either,” Abigail said.
The two others shook their heads. I looked at Elizabeth.
“Counselor?” I said.
“I’m a trust lawyer,” she said. “I don’t know what we should do.”
I stood up.
“Good luck,” I said.
Nobody said anything, but they all looked at me mournfully as I moved toward the door. I shrugged.
“Can’t win ’em all,” I said.
Chapter17
HAWK AND I were having a “Thank God it’s late Thursday afternoon” drink at the far end of the bar in Grill 23.
“What’s the book?” I said to Hawk.
He looked at the hardcover on the bar beside him. The flap was keeping his place about one hundred pages in.
“New one by Janet Evanovich,” he said.
“Good?”
“Course it’s good. Would I be reading it, it’s not good?”
“You reading it, it wouldn’t dare,” I said.
Hawk smiled.
“Don’t suppose you want me to pop Gary Eisenhower for you,” Hawk said.
“There’s nothing going on here,” I said, “that anyone should die for.”
“Just an offer,” Hawk said.
“Thanks,” I said.
Hawk sipped some champagne.
“What are friends be for,” he said, “they can’t scrag somebody for you now and then?”
“I’ll take a raincheck,” I said.
Hawk looked as he always did, as if he’d just been washed and polished. His clothes were immaculate. His shirt seemed to glow with whiteness. His shaved head gleamed in the bar’s light.
“Maybe I should shave my head,” I said.
“White guys don’t look good with their heads shaved,” Hawk said.
“Why is that?” I said.
“Don’t know,” Hawk said. “Don’t look as good with hair, either.”
“Are you making invidious racial comparisons?” I said.
“Uh-huh,” Hawk said.
The bartender came down the bar and replaced our drinks.
“You say he knew the names of the women hired you,” Hawk said.
“Yes.”
“How many women he working, you think?”
“More than four,” I said.
“So somebody tole him,” Hawk said.
“Be my guess,” I said.
“One of them don’t believe she ain’t special to him,” Hawk said.
“You know this how?” I said.
“Simplest explanation,” he said.
“True,” I said.
“People believe what they need to believe,” Hawk said.
“Also true,” I said.
Hawk sipped his champagne. I had a little scotch.
“I got nowhere to go,” I said. “No one will testify, no one will bargain with him. They all want something they can’t have.”
“And there’s a lot you don’t know,” Hawk said.
“Susan says there’s something wrong with Gary,” I said.
“That he has as much sex as he does, with various women about whom he doesn’t care very much.”
“Strange tail,” Hawk said.
“I know,” I said. “I’m not sure Susan gets that, exactly.”
“She gets most things,” Hawk said.
“She does,” I said.
“I been thinking ’bout cutting back myself,” Hawk said.
“Official male attitudes aside, is there such a thing as too much sex?”
“Sure,” Hawk said.
“Even at your tolerance level?” I said.
“Even then,” Hawk said.
“So what does that do for me?” I said.
“You the sleuth,” Hawk said. “I just a simple negro man.”
“Simple,” I said.
Hawk was looking down the bar at a woman in a dark blue suit.
“Attractive to women, though,” he said.
“I thought she was looking at me,” I said.
“She not,” Hawk said.
I sipped some scotch.
“I suppose I could go back a little, get a little history on Gary,” I said.
“He done a triple at Shirley?” Hawk said.
I nodded.
“For swindling some woman?”
I nodded.
“Might make sense to talk to the woman,” Hawk said.
“I’m a man of great intellectual curiosity,” I said.
We finished our second round. The bartender delivered a third.
“You sure that woman isn’t looking at me?” I said.
“What you care?” Hawk said. “You don’t fool around no more.”
I grinned at him.
“I was never fooling,” I said.
Chapter18
I WAS IN MY OFFICE, at my desk, looking at Gary Pappas’s full folder that Quirk had gotten for me. Susan was at a conference in Portland, Maine, and wouldn’t be back until tomorrow. So Pearl was on the couch in my office, which had been purchased for her use. Though now and then, when she wasn’t around, Susan and I used it for our own purposes. My office door opened softly. Pearl barked. My visitors hesitated.
“It’s all right, she won’t bite you,” I said.
The door opened wider and in came Regina Hartley with a man. Pearl barked again, and they looked at me. Pearl had not bothered to get off the couch and remained prone while she barked.
“It’s Bring Your Dog to Work Day,” I said. “Have a seat.”
They walked cautiously past her and sat in front of my desk. Pearl rested her head on her paws and murmured threateningly. I looked at her. She stopped.
“This is my husband, Clifford,” Regina said.
“How do you do?” I said, master of the bon mot.
“We need your help,” Regina said.
“Haven’t done much for you so far,” I said.
“This isn’t about the other girls,” Regina said. “This is just about us.”
I nodded. She looked at her husband. He looked at me. I waited.
“This is awkward,” he said.
“I often hear awkward things,” I said. “I don’t mind.”
He was a slim man, very erect, very well dressed in a blue suit with a blue-striped pin-collar shirt. His hair was white and close-cut. His color was good. He looked at his wife again.
“I can’t,” she said.
He nodded and took a deep breath, and went off the high board.
“I’m gay,” he said.
“Lot of that going around,” I said.
“Regina knows. Has always known,” he said. “We care about each other very much, but our lives sometimes run in, ah, separate, though I think parallel, directions.”
“And that works for you?”
“Yes,” he said. “It does.”
Regina nodded.
“Are you out?” I said.
He was silent for a long moment. Then he shook his head.
“No,” he said.
“Would being outed do you harm?”
“I fear so,” he said. “I am being considered as a candidate for the United States Senate.”
“And you fear your gayness would rule you out?”
“Not simply that I am gay,” he said, “but that Regina and I have lived separate sexual lives . . . rather, I fear, vigorously.”
“Nothing wrong with
vigor,” I said.
“You see my problem,” he said. “If I am nominated, this Gary Eisenhower is like a loose cannon out there rolling around.”
“Does he know?” I said.
“About me?” Clifford said. “No, but he knows about Regina, and when I run, he’ll see his big chance, and I’m afraid it will all come out.”
“Massachusetts has a pretty good history with gay issues,” I said.
“I know,” he said. “But it’s not just gay issues. My wife has slept with an assortment of men.” He smiled faintly. “And so have I.”
I nodded.
“Not a matter of one boyfriend,” I said.
“No,” Clifford said.
I looked at Regina. She shrugged.
“No,” she said.
I nodded.
“Why did you join with the other women?” I said to Regina.
“I thought maybe it would work,” she said. “That we could find someone to make him go away.”
“Can you keep paying him?” I said.
“For a while,” Clifford said. “But it is intolerable.”
I nodded.
“You like your life?”
“Yes,” he said. “We both do.”
Regina nodded.
“I adore her,” he said. “We share everything, except sex. I hope to be with her all my life.”
“Regina?” I said.
“I feel the same way,” she said.
I leaned back in my chair. Pearl snored gently on the couch.
“Then fess up,” I said.
“You mean tell everyone?” Regina said. “No! No, no, no!”
“Tell the truth,” I said. “And you’ve taken away his every weapon.”
“It would destroy my candidacy,” Clifford said.
“Maybe,” I said. “Say it did. You’d still have your life.”
“No, Clifford,” Regina said. “I won’t let you do this to us.”
“Would you lose your income?” I said.
“I inherited a considerable estate from my father,” he said.
“Essentially, I manage it.”
“So your job is safe.”
He smiled faintly again.
“Yes,” he said.
I spread my hands and turned both palms up.
“The truth will set you free,” I said.
“No,” Regina said. “I won’t have you do this. We’ve wanted this for all of our marriage. You cannot give it up now that it’s so close.”
The Professional Page 5
