Robert B Parker - Spenser 26 - Hush Money

by Hush Money(lit)

  vq/ tvgttJ 225

  "I don't know. Her ex-husband said he'd pay for it." "He likely to end up with her back in his lap," Hawk said.

  "I don't think so. I think he's pretty clear about her."

  Hawk was quiet for a time. "'Course there's always your lap," he said. "Not if I keep moving[' I said. "We got a plan what we do when Amir shows up.'?"

  "We'll ask him a bunch of questions[' I said.

  "And when he lies to us.'?" "We ask him some other questions." "When do I get to hang him out the window by his ankles?" Hawk said. "We can always hang him out the window," I said.'"Trouble is then he'll say anything he thinks we want to hear, and we may learn as much stuff that's not true as we will stuff that is." "You just too soft-hearted," Hawk said. "Softer than you;' I said. "Probably both happy 'bout that," Hawk said. "This visit we try it the easy way," I said. "Might stir the pot a little[' Hawk said. "Might make him do something that we can catch him at." "Might;' I said. There was the sound of a key in the door. We were both on our feet. Silently on the thick carpet I stepped into the kitchen, Hawk went into the bedroom. The bolt turned. The door opened. The lights went on. The door shut. I could hear him put the chain bolt on. I stepped out of the kitchen and stood in front of Amir. There was an Asian boy, Japanese was my guess, maybe eighteen years old, with Amir. The moment he saw me Amir spun toward the door. Hawk had stepped out of the bedroom between Amir and the door. Amir turned again and tried for the phone beside the sec 226 P-'O'f' b'. trr

  tional sofa. I stepped between him and it. Amir stopped and looked toward the bedroom. Not a chance. Same with the kitchen. He had nowhere to go. He stood frozen between us. Behind him Hawk took the bolt off, and opened the door slightly.

  "You go home," he said to the Asian kid.

  The kid looked at Amir. Amir had no reaction. He was stiff with panic.

  "Now," Hawk said.

  The kid turned and Hawk opened the door enough and the

  kid went out. Hawk closed the door and put the chain back on. "Sit down," I said to Amir. "We need to talk." "Don't hurt me," he said.

  Amir's voice was shrill and thin-sounding, as if it was being squeezed out through a sall opening.

  "No need for hurting," I said. "Just sit down and talk with us."

  "The boy saw you here, he'll tell the police," Amir said.

  Hawk stepped up behind Amir, put his hands on Amir's

  shoulders, and steered him to the couch and sat him down. "Stay," he said.

  Amir stayed. Hawk sat on the couch beside him. I sat on a hassock across from them, and rested my elbows on my knees and clasped my hands.

  "Now, here's what we know about you. We know it was you who informed the English department tenure committee that Robinson Nevins was sort of responsible for the death of graduate student Prentice Lamont."

  Hawk said, "Be quiet, Amir."

  "We know that you yourself were having a sexual relationship with Prentice Lamont before his death."

  Amir opened his mouth, looked at Hawk, closed his mouth.

  vc$, M,ff 227

  "We know that Prentice was blackmailing gay people who didn't want to be outed, and we know that you knew about that."

  'Amir sat with his mouth clamped shut, trying to look

  intrepid, determined to make a virtue of necessity.

  "What else do we know?" I said to Hawk.

  "We know you a chicken fucker, Amir," Hawk said. Amir tried to look haughty. He was, after all, a professor. "I don't even know what that means," he said.

  "Sure you do," HaWk said. "Means you'd fuck a young snake if it was male and you could get it to hold still."

  Hawk's expression was, as always, somewhere between pleasant and noncommittal. Amir's expression failed at haughty. It was more a kind of compacting silence, as if he was becoming less, dwindling as he listened, freezing in upon himself.

  "We know you advised the current staff of OUTrageous, namely Walt and Willie, that they should continue the blackmail," I said. "We know you declined to be a financial panof it because you said you didn't need the money. We kiw you are currently having an affair with Willie, which is causing Walt to refer to you as a son of a bitch."

  "And," Hawk said, "we know you went away this weekend in a private plane."

  "And here's what we don't know," I said. "We don't know if you made up the story about Nevins, or if it's true. We don't know why you told the committee about it in either case. We don't know why you condoned the blackmail. We don't know why you didn't then take any money from it. We don't know why you claim not to need money. We don't know where you went this weekend. We don't know if you are responsible for Prentice Lamont being dead."

  228 P..erl" if. srgr The silence in the thick sweet stench of the living room was palpable. Hawk said very softly, "We'd like to know." "I didn't do a thing to Prentice," Amir said. "Know who did?" "Prentice killed himself." "No," I said. "He didn't. Do you know who did.'?" "Prentice killed himself," Amir said again. "Who'd you go to see this weekend?" "I didn't go anywhere," Amir said. "You took a private jet out of Baxter Airways at two thirty-five last Friday." "I didn't." "We can run that down;' I sod. "You think people who are gay and don't want the world to know should be announced?" "There's nothing shameful about being gay." "I agree. But my question stands." "Every gay person who announces himself proudly to the world is another step toward full recognition of our sexual validity." We were beginning to discuss abstractions, and Amir was on firmer ground. His voice was less squeaky. "Unless they pay off;' I said. "I think of it as a fine for noncompliance," Amir said. "But you wouldn't take any of the money." "I do very nicely thank you on my salary and my lecture tours and my writing." "You have an affair with Prentice Lamont?" "Prentice and I were lovers. There's nothing wrong with that." "While he was in love with Robinson Nevins or before?" Amir hesitated. He could sense a pitfall in the question.

  $k M,ff 229

  "While," he said.

  Wrong answer.

  "So he was willing to cheat on Nevins but when Nevins

  left him he was so heartbroken that he killed himself?"

  "You don't understand the gay life," Amir said.

  "Why do you think Prentice killed himselF"

  "Everyone thinks so," Amir said.

  "And why did you tell the tenure committee?"

  "I felt honor bound to do so."

  "Honor bound," Hawk said.

  Amir looked at Hawk sort of sideways trying to seem as if

  he weren't looking at him.

  "I know you from before," he said.

  "Sure, we come to your office, couple weeks back," Hawk

  said. "Boogied with some of your supporters."

  "No, I mean a long time ago. I know you from a long time

  ago."

  Hawk didn't say anything. His face showed nothing. But

  something must have stirred in his eyes, because Amir

  flinched backward as if he'd been jabbed.

  I let the silence stretch for a while, but nothing came out of it. Amir was rigidly not looking at Hawk.

  "Amir," I said. "I don't believe a goddamned thing you've said."

  Amir stared straight ahead. I nodded at Hawk. We stood and went to the door. I took off the chain bolt. We opened it and went out. Before he closed it Hawk looked for a time at Amir. Then he closed the door softly.

  faculty cafeteria, drinking coffee. I was currently experimenting with half decaf and half real coffee. Not bad. "I met your father the other day," I said. "Most people are impressed when'they meet him," Nevins said. "He's impressive;' I said. "Hawk's affection for him is sort of touching," Nevis said. "Since, as you must know better than I, Hawk sh!vs very little of anything, let alone affection?' "You like him?" I said. "He's my father," Nevins said. "I guess I love him. I'm not very comfortable with him." "Because?" "Because he is from a different world. Machismo is the essence of his existence,.and I am remote from that?' "Is he disappointed in youT' I said. Nevins looked startled. "Why I... no
... I don't think he is?' "I don't think he is either," I said. "You talked about meT' "Yes. He asked me if I thought you were queer."

  232. Patr]tgr

  "And?"

  "And I said I didn't know. And he said he didn't know either, but that it didn't matter much one way or another. You were still his son."

  "I knew he wondered," Nevins said. "Forty years old and unmarried."

  "I guess the time has come, I need to know," I said. "If I'm queer?" "Yeah."

  "No," Nevins said. "I'm not."

  "Might have saved you some grief if everyone knew that." "Might have," Nevins said. "But I have always thought that it is entirely corrupt to judge people based on what they do with their genitals in private with a consenting adult."

  "I think that's right," I said. "Here's an even worse question. Can you prove it?"

  Nevins stopped with his cup half raised to his lips and stared at me a minute, then he put the cup down, and folded his hands and rested his chin on them and looked at me some

  more.

  "Just how do we go about that?" he said. "Go down to the Pussy Cat Cinema, perhaps, see if I erect?"

  "Maybe the testimony of satisfied females?" I said.

  He nodded slowly, an odd half smile on his face.

  "I don't like this much better than you do, but everybody's telling me nothing, and I need some kind of fact to wedge in with."

  "What is really, what, ironic, I guess, is that at least one member of the tenure committee knows perfectly well that I'm heterosexual."

  "Care to share the name?"

  He didn't say anything.

  233

  "Look," I said. "It would have to be a female. How many are there on the tenure committee?" "Four." "For crissake," I said. "I'm a detective. You think given four names I can't find out which one it was?" "If I tell you, can you keep it to yourself?." "I can keep it from anyone who doesn't need to know it," I said. He still looked at me above his folded hands. The odd half smile faded. Finally he spoke with no expression at all. "Lillian Temple;' he said. "If that's true;' I said, "Lillian Temple knowingly lied about you in the tenure meeting. She was the one who introduced the business about Prentice Lamont." Nevins nodded slowly, without taking his chin off his folded hands. "Was this before she was Bass Maitland's main squeeze?" I said. "While," Nevins said. "Ah," I said. "And you are too gentlemanly to kiss and'' tell." "That relationship is important to her. I don't want to destroy it." "You're getting lynched here," I said, "and won't say anything in your own defense because it would be dishonorable." Nevins shrugged. "Honor requires difficulty," Nevins said. "Jesus Christ," I said. "Your old man isn't the only one for whom machismo is the essence of existence." Nevins widened his eyes at me as he sat there, and cocked his head slightly without lifting it. "You think I'm motivated by considerations of machismo?" "I hope so," I said. "I hope you're not crazy."

  An old fat black woman in white sneakers shuffled to our table, cleared the table debris, including the coffee cups we hadn't finished, into the cart she was pushing, and shuffled on. Neither of us said anything. I wasn't even sure she had seen US.

  "Have you had other girlfriends," I said. I wasn't even investigating anymore. I was simply interested.

  "Yes, and I've been reticent about them because they have been white."

  "Un huh."

  "And... I don't know how to say this without sounding like a priggish jerk."

  "It's okay," I said. "You're a professor."

  He smiled sort of automaticly.

  "Well, I am badly overeducated. I can only relate well to

  women who are also badly overeducated?' "And most of those women are white." "Yes."

  We were quiet while the old fat black woman came back and wiped off our table with a damp cloth and moved on.

  "I'd have thought interracial dating would not have caused problems in your circles."

  "I don't know if it would have. I wasn't brought up to believe that it wouldn't. My mother was very careful about staying on our side of the line. I find it difficult to overcome my upbringing."

  ?I've heard that could be hard," I said. "So you kept your

  dating a private matter."

  "Yes."

  "And because you were single and forty it was assumed you were gay?"

  "Single, forty, educated, bookish, unathletic---do you know I've never played a basketball game in my life?"

  ut3 t%4/ag,. 235

  "A clear betrayal of your heritage;' I said. "You know, the funny thing, I have no interest in sex with other men, but I am, in many ways, more at home in the gay community than the straight. I found the gay world readily accepting of a black man and a white woman. No one expected me to be Michael Jordan." "No one expects anyone to be Michael Jordan;' I said.

  "You know what I mean:' "Yes, I do. You have a large number of-gay friendsT" "Yes. I'm more comfortable in the gay world than I am in the black world." I wasn't sure that worlds divided themselves so neatly as Robinson suggested, but that wasn't my issue. I nodded encouragingly. "America expects black men to be macho;' he said. Again, I wasn't sure either of u was in a position to know what America expected, and, again, it wasn't my issue. So I nodded some more. "Of course," and he smiled suddenly, "I am also refig.h$i.'ng the family fight, you know, the refined mother and the!lather who trained fighterS?'' That sounded a little closer to it and I liked him better for knowing it. "Yes;' I said. "Being a straight man in a gay circumstance would be a nice way to do that, wouldn't it." His eyes widened and he looked at me. "Well;' he said, "you're not..." He made a little oh-Idon't-know hand wave. I finished it for him. "... as stupid as I look," I said. "In fact I am. But I have a smart girlfriend." "I'm impressed;' Robinson said. I went for the complete showoff.

  "For a black man," I said, "dating white women might be another way of dramatizing his ambivalence." "Your girlfriend must have had some therapy," Robinson said. "She's a shrink;' I said. "Oh;' Robinson said, "well, that's not fair." "Of course not;' I said. "I don't like to ask this, but may I speak to your current girlfriend?" "Yes. Her name is Pamela Franklin. I'll give you her address." He took a ballpoint pen and a small notebook from his inside pocket and wrote for a moment and tore the page out and handed it to me. "Thank you. Do you know Amir,Abdullah?" "Yes." "Comment?" "Amir is a fraud. He's an intellectually dishonest, manipulative, exploitive charlatan." "Know anything bad about him?" I said. Robinson started to protest, caught himself, looked at me a moment, and smiled without much humor. "You're joking." "Yes." "Perhaps you shouldn't so much," he said. "Almost certainly," I said. "Tell me more about Amir?" "He has created himself in the image of a black revolutionary, without any vestige of a philosophical ground. I am not by nature a revolutionary or an activist, but I can respect people who genuinely are. Amir is not. He is a contrivance. He gets what he wants by accusing anyone who opposes him of being a racist or a homophobe." "Or a Torn," I said. "Yes."

  vq/ tA 237

  "Are you and he politically opposed.'?" "I am not political," Robinson said. "But I disagree with almost anything Amir espouses." "Have you been critical of him?" "Yes." "Would your denial of tenure benefit him?" Robinson looked thoughtfully at the old fat black woman shuffling among the now nearly empty tables. "Someone once remarked," he said, "I don't recall who, that the reason academic conflicts are so vicious is that the stakes are so small. There is no genuine benefit to Amir if I am denied tenure. But it would please him." "And it would reduce by.one the number of people who could confront him without the risk of being called a racist." "Given the number of black faculty members, that would be a significant reduction;' Robinson sid. "How about Lillian?" "What about her?" "She and Amir are the two members of the tenure com: mittee who told the cops they had direct knowledge of yo relationship with Prentice Lamont." "Lillian?" I nodded'. "I haven't done anything to Lillian." "And since we agree that the allegation is untrue, why would she make it?" "I don't know," he said, "but I could hypothesize." "Do," I said. Robinson took in a long breath and let
it out slowly. "Most straight black men know someone like Lillian," he said. "She has very little connection to what people outside of English departments sometimes refer to as the real world. She doesn't do things because they would be fun, or they

  238 '. Prr

  would be profitable, or they would be wise. She does things because they conform to some inner ideal she has structured out of her reading."