When he got inside the room, Gary paused and looked around.
“Hot damn,” he said, and walked across the room and sat beside Beth on the couch.
“’S happening, Beth?” he said, and patted her on the thigh.
She smiled brightly.
“Okay,” Chet said. “You put this together, Tony. Talk to us.” Tony looked around the office.
“Lotta firepower in here,” he said.
Chet nodded.
“Hawk,” Tony said. “Spenser. My friends, your goons. Lotta force.”
I could tell that Boo felt dissed by being called a goon. But he didn’t speak. Zel seemed uninterested.
“So?” Chet said.
“I hope there’s no need for force,” Tony said.
“To do what?” Chet said.
“To resolve our problem.”
“Our problem? What problem do you and me have?” Chet said.
Tony looked around the room. He took out a cigar, trimmed it, lit it, got it going, took in some smoke, and exhaled.
“We don’t have to get too explicit here,” he said. “But you and I do business in the same territory, and we got an agreement in place that allows us to do that without, you know, rubbing up against each other.”
Chet nodded without saying anything.
“That gonna end,” Tony said, “’less you straighten out your love life.”
“My love life,” Chet said.
Tony took an inhale on his cigar and took it from his mouth, held it up in front of him, and exhaled so that he looked at the glowing end of the cigar through the smoke.
“Specifically, Mr., ah, Eisenhower,” Tony said. “I want him left alone.”
“What the hell do you care?” Chet said.
“Don’t matter why,” Tony said. “Only matter that I do.”
“And if I tell you to go to hell?” Chet said.
“You’re out of business,” Tony said.
Everyone was quiet. Beth looked bright-eyed and excited as she watched the back-and-forth between her husband and Tony Marcus. Gary Eisenhower looked sort of amused, but he nearly always looked amused. Maybe because he was always amused. The damned cigar kept being a cigar.
“You think you can put me out of business?” Chet said.
“I know I can,” Tony said. “And so do you.”
Chet nodded slowly.
“You and Spenser rig this deal?” Chet said.
“Don’t matter who rigged it,” Tony said. “It rigged. Take it or leave it.”
“He a friend of yours?” Chet said.
I knew he was stalling while he tried to think it through.
“He sent me up once,” Tony said. “So no, we ain’t friends. But he done me some favors, too.”
Everyone was quiet.
Then Boo said, “Mr. Jackson, you want me to take one of these clowns apart, you just say so.”
Tony turned and looked at him with mild amusement. Zel shook his head sadly and stepped away from Boo, his gaze fixed on Ty-Bop, who was still nodding to whatever music he was hearing in the spheres, but he was as focused on Zel, and Zel was on him.
“Boo took too many to the head,” Zel said, “when he was fighting.”
“Screw you, Zel,” Boo said. “We ain’t hired to let people push our boss around.”
Beth’s eyes seemed even brighter, and I noticed her tongue moving along her lower lip again. Tony was incredulous.
“You think you gonna take Junior apart?” Tony said, tilting his head in Junior’s direction. It was an easy tilt, because Junior occupied most of the room.
“Anybody in the room,” Boo said.
His eyes still steady on Ty-Bop, Zel shook his head sadly.
“Boo,” he said softly.
“You heard me,” Boo said.
Behind his desk, Chet looked blankly at the scene. He very likely had no idea what he was supposed to do.
Boo was staring at Junior.
“How ’bout you, boy? You want to try me?”
Junior looked at Tony. Tony nodded. Junior smiled.
I said, “How ’bout me, Boo?”
And he turned toward me.
“You, wiseass?” he said. “Be a pleasure.”
I slipped out of my jacket. Boo came at me in his fighter’s stance. He threw a left hook to start, and I saw right away why his face was so marked up. He dropped his hands when he punched. I blocked his hook with my right and put a hard jab onto his nose. It didn’t faze him. He kept coming. He faked a left and tried an overhand right. I took it on my forearm and nailed him with a right cross, and he went down. He got right back up, but his eyes were a little unfocused, and his hands were at his waist. I hit him with my right forearm and then torqued back and hit him with the side of my right fist. He went down again. He tried to get up and made it to his knees, and wobbled there on all fours. Zel squatted beside him.
“Nine, ten, and out,” he said to Boo. “Fight’s over.”
Boo stayed where he was, his head hanging. Some stubborn vestige of pride that he wouldn’t let go and be flat on the floor. Zel stayed with him.
“Come on, big guy,” Zel said. “Let’s get out of here.”
Boo made a faint gesture with his head that was probably an affirmative, and Zel got an arm around him and helped him up. Boo was more out than in, but his feet moved.
As they passed, Zel said to me, “Thanks.”
I nodded.
And they went out.
“So much for your muscle,” Tony said.
Chet nodded.
“I thought he was tougher than that,” Chet said.
“He was,” I said.
“Probably been beating up loan-shark deadbeats too much,” Gary said, and grinned. “Or guys like me.”
Beth was staring at me silently. Her face was a little flushed. Her tongue was still on her lower lip, but it wasn’t moving.
“What about it, Chet?” Tony said.
Chet looked at me and back at Tony. Then he looked at Beth.
“Okay,” he said. “I lay off Gary Boy.”
“Right choice,” Tony said.
“But”—Chet turned to Beth—“it stops here. I am not going to be your patsy.”
“Meaning?” Beth said.
“You drop Gary Boy here, or I’ll throw you out without a dime.”
“You’d divorce me?”
“I would.”
She looked at Gary.
“You got no case,” Gary said. “He wouldn’t have to give you anything.”
“And if I give him up?” she said to Chet.
“And keep your knees together,” Chet said. “We walk into the sunset together.”
“That’s my choice?”
Chet looked at her as if they were alone in the room.
“I love you,” Chet said. “But I can’t be out of business. If I was, you’d leave me anyway, soon as the money ran out.”
“You think that of me?” Beth said.
“I know it of you,” Chet said. “But it’s okay. I knew it when I married you. I made the deal. I’ll live with it. But I’m not giving up both you and the money.”
Beth looked at Tony Marcus.
“This man can actually put you out of business?” she said.
“Yes,” he said. “He can.”
Beth looked at Gary.
“What should I do?”
“I was you,” Gary said, “I’d dump me and go for the dough.”
Beth nodded.
“Okay,” she said.
Tony grinned and stood up.
“Our work here is done,” he said.
Chapter37
NOW THAT HE didn’t have to babysit Gary Eisenhower anymore, Hawk was at leisure, so he rode up to Wickton College with me.
“So how come you didn’t let Boo have a go at Junior?” he said.
“Junior would have killed him,” I said.
“So?”
“No need for it,” I said.
Hawk shrugged.
/> “And how come we going up to talk to these people ’bout Gary Eisenhower? Ain’t that all wrapped up?”
“Told her I would,” I said.
“Who?”
“Director of counseling at the college,” I said.
We were on Route 2, west of Fitchburg. Mostly bare winter trees to look at.
“You a bear for cleaning up loose ends,” Hawk said.
“I’m a curious guy,” I said.
“You sho’ nuff are,” Hawk said.
We turned off Route 2 and headed north on 202 toward Winchendon. We stopped for coffee, and in another half-hour we were at Wickton College.
“Don’t see a lot of African-Americans ’round here,” Hawk said.
“You may be the first,” I said.
“At least I the perfect specimen.”
“You want to come in with me, Specimen?” I said.
“Naw,” Hawk said. “I think I sit here and see if I attract the attention of some college girls.”
“I don’t want to discourage you,” I said. “But no one paid any attention to me when I was here last time.”
Hawk looked at me silently for a while.
Then he said, “What that got to do with me?”
I left him and went in to see Mary Brown.
“Your recommendations support you,” she said when I was seated. “Particularly your honey bun.”
“Good to know,” I said.
“I obviously cannot break confidence with Mr. Pappas,” she said. “But I can tell you things that are on the public record.”
I waited.
“Our campus security officers do not have full police powers, so if there’s an incident we ask the local police to step in,” she said.
I waited some more.
“Mr. Pappas had a penchant for women who were with other men,” she said. “This precipitated several fights. Often with alcohol involved. On one occasion our security officers had to call local authorities to stabilize the situation.”
“And Mr. Pappas got busted?” I said.
“Yes.”
“And booked?” I said.
“Yes.”
“So if I were to speak to the local cops, I might learn something.”
“Yes.”
“Do you know what I might learn?” I said.
“I believe so,” she said.
“I don’t wish to compromise your ethics,” I said. “But if I’m going to know it anyway, why not save me a trip to the fuzz.”
She thought about that for a time.
“He was released without penalty under the condition that he seek counseling from a psychotherapist.”
“There’s one around here?”
“One,” she said. “He has offices in the medical center.”
“Name?” I said.
She hesitated.
“His name is Paul Doucette,” she said. “I’ve alerted him that you might visit.”
“Hot damn,” I said. “So you were going to tell me this before I even arrived.”
“I thought I might,” she said.
“So it wasn’t my clever questioning,” I said.
“No.”
“How about charm,” I said.
“Well,” she said, and smiled. “That was certainly part of it.”
“Oh, good,” I said. “Is it enough to get me directions, too?”
“We have them preprinted,” she said, and took a card out of a file on her desk and handed it to me.
“Thank you,” I said.
“Your honey bun was very persuasive,” Mary said.
When I came out of the administration building, Hawk was leaning on the fender, talking with two college girls.
“This is Janice, and Loretta,” Hawk said. “We been discussing African tribal practices.”
“Any particular tribe?” I said.
“Mine,” Hawk said.
The girls said, “How do you do.”
“Have to excuse us,” I said. “Gotta go down to the medical center.”
“He scared to go alone,” Hawk said.
The girls said good-bye, we got in, and the girls waved after us as we drove away.
“What tribe was that again?” I said.
“I forgot,” Hawk said.
Chapter38
THE MEDICAL CENTER was a two-story brick building with a lot of glass windows, and a parking lot beside it. When I parked, Hawk got out with me.
“You going to hang around out here?” I said to Hawk. “And further integrate the region?”
“Must be nurses here,” Hawk said, and resumed residence on my front fender.
I went in to talk to Dr. Doucette. It took a while, but he squeezed me in between patients. He was a lean, fiftyish man with silvery hair combed straight back. He looked like he might play racquetball.
I gave him my card.
“Mary Brown called me, so I know who you are,” he said. “I’m Paul Doucette. I haven’t much time, and there are obviously issues of confidentiality. That given, how can I help you?”
“Tell me what you can about Goran Pappas,” I said.
“I interviewed him and found him a reasonably coherent young man with a passion for women, particularly women already with another man.”
“Any reason for that?”
“The interest in other men’s women?” Dr. Doucette said. “Probably, but it didn’t seem to consume him. He seemed perfectly able to control it if he chose to. His life didn’t make him unhappy, and he appeared to present no particular threat to society.”
“So you had nothing much to treat him for,” I said.
“Correct. I told the police and the college that in my opinion, he was well within the normal range of appropriate behavior.”
“Did you explore the other-men’s-women business with him?”
“I did.”
“Can you tell me about it?”
“No.”
“Would I be revealing my ignorance,” I said, “if I suggested that if I were looking into it, I’d start with his mother and father.”
“In my business,” Doucette said, “as perhaps in yours, it is sensible to start with the most obvious and see where it leads.”
“Can you tell me where it led you?”
“No,” he said. “I can’t. But perhaps you can tell me why you want to know.”
I smiled.
“Just because I don’t know, I guess.”
“Has Pappas committed a crime?”
“Well, sort of.”
“ ‘Sort of’?” Doucette said.
I told him a brief outline of the Gary Eisenhower story.
Doucette nodded.
“So,” he said. “I gather that from your perspective, though he won’t be punished for the blackmail, the case is resolved.”
“Yes.”
He looked at his watch.
“And you’ll settle for that,” he said.
“Yes.”
“For what it’s worth,” he said. “I agree with you.”
“It’s not perfect,” I said.
“It never is,” Doucette said.
“But I’ll take it,” I said.
“I do not believe Pappas is a bad man,” Doucette said. “He is, by and large, what he appears to be.”
“So you’ll take it, too,” I said.
“I did,” Doucette said.
He looked at his watch again. I nodded and stood. We shook hands. And I headed out to the parking lot to see how many nurses Hawk had wrangled.
Chapter39
I HAD A DRINK with Gary Eisenhower at the bar in a new steakhouse called Mooo, up near the State House.
“I got this one,” he said when I sat down beside him. “I guess I owe you that much.”
“Probably more than that,” I said.
“You think?”
He had a Maker’s Mark on the rocks. I ordered beer.
“I took Jackson and his people off your back,” I said.
“Pretty clever how you did th
at,” Gary said. “You know some scary dudes.”
“I do,” I said.
“You’re pretty scary yourself,” Gary said.
With his forefinger he stirred the ice in his bourbon.
“I know,” I said.
“How come you fought Boo?” Gary said.
“Junior would have killed him,” I said.
“The huge black dude is named Junior?” Gary said.
“Yep.”
“Man,” Gary said. “I’d hate to see Senior.”
I nodded.
“Why do you care if Junior kills Boo?” Gary said.
“No need for it,” I said.
“Boo’s not much,” Gary said. “Except mean.”
“I know.”
“Why would he go with the biggest guy in the room?”
“It’s all he’s got,” I said. “He’s a tough guy. He doesn’t have that, he has nothing. He isn’t anybody.”
“And you took that away from him,” Gary said.
“I did,” I said. “But he’s alive. And in a few days he’ll beat up some car salesman who’s fallen behind on the vig, and his sense of self will be restored.”
“That easy?” Gary said.
“Boo’s not very smart,” I said.
“I’ll say.”
Gary ordered another bourbon. I ordered another beer.
“Zel was, like, looking out for him,” Gary said.
“Yeah.”
“I don’t know this game like you do,” Gary said. “But I saw Zel move a little away from Boo when the trouble started, and focus in on the skinny black kid.”
“Ty-Bop,” I said.
“And I figure if things went bad for Boo,” Gary said, “Zel would start shooting.”
“Unless Ty-Bop beat him,” I said.
“Either way,” Gary said. “We weren’t far from a shoot-out right there.”
“True.”
“In which several people might have got killed,” he said.
“True.”
“Including Beth,” he said.
“Including Beth.”
“You thinking about that,” Gary said, “when you stepped up?”
“Sure,” I said.
“Christ,” Gary said. “A fucking hero.”
“But you knew that anyway,” I said.
Gary laughed and sipped some bourbon.
The Professional Page 10
