"Anything that distances you from the human fact of them," I said.
"Doesn't mean I liked it," Z said.
"Good," I said. "Stephano would have liked it. But it's worth remembering about yourself that you are the kind of guy who can stick a knife into someone in the dark."
"Are you like that?" Z said.
"Yes," I said.
"You wish you weren't?"
"No," I said. "But I keep it in mind."
"Why?"
"So I won't be that way when I don't have to be," I said.
Z nodded.
"You took Stephano out pretty nice," he said.
"I'm supposed to," I said.
"Yeah."
We didn't talk for a while. We finished our drinks at an easy pace, and made fresh ones. I could hear, faintly, the sound of the rain outside my front windows.
"Whaddya gonna do now?" Z said.
"I'm going to tell Quirk that I don't think Jumbo killed Dawn Lopata."
"You believe Jumbo?"
"Yes."
"Remember," Z said. "He's a lying fuck."
"Of course he is," I said. "But it's a plausible story, and nothing any of us knows contradicts it."
"Okay," Z said. "Then what?"
"Then Quirk does what he does," I said. "The DA does what he does. Jumbo's people do what they do."
"Can Quirk keep him out of jail?"
"Maybe," I said.
"What if he doesn't?" Z said. "What if they send him to jail?"
"I did what I could. I did what I said I'd do. That's all there is to do."
"Would it bother you?" Z said.
"Some," I said. "But I'd get over it."
"He probably should do time, anyway, for being a creep," Z said.
"Probably," I said. "Maybe he can make a deal."
"Swap Nicky Fellscroft for a light sentence?" Z said.
"Might," I said. "If they press charges."
"They might kill him," Z said.
"Also possible," I said.
"Easier than killing us," Z said.
I nodded. I could hear the rain outside my front windows. Z looked at his half-full glass.
"Ain't a lot of happy endings here," he said.
"There often aren't," I said.
"That's how it is," Z said. "Isn't it."
"'Fraid so," I said.
He nodded and sipped his drink and kept nodding slowly, as if in some kind of permanent affirmation.
"That's how it is," he said.
I don't think he was talking to me.
62
I SPENT THE MORNING with Quirk and a black woman with wide-spaced eyes from the Suffolk County DA's office. Her name was Angela Ruskin. I told them what I knew, and what I thought. They listened.
When I got through, Quirk said, "I don't think there's enough."
"We can't prove it didn't happen the way he said it did," Angela Ruskin said. "We might be able to get him for trying to pretty up the scene."
"How much time would he do?" Quirk said.
Angela shrugged.
"Not much," she said. "Probably none, if Rita represents him."
"I don't want to arrest him," Quirk said.
"Because?" Angela said.
"Because I don't think he did anything. Unless being a creep is illegal."
"And you believe Spenser," she said.
"Yes," Quirk said.
She nodded and scanned the notes she had taken. Then she closed the notebook and stood up.
"I'm inclined to believe him, too," she said. "Despite all the publicity, this isn't a winner for us. We don't prosecute and we're giving him a bye because he's a big star. We prosecute and don't convict, it's because we're incompetent, and probably giving him a bye as well. We prosecute and convict and he's sentenced appropriately, we're all soft on him because he's a star."
"Only way to win is to get him convicted of something he didn't do, or get him a sentence that won't stand on appeal," Quirk said.
Angela smiled.
"I'll consult with my colleagues," she said.
After she left, Quirk leaned back in his chair with his hands clasped behind his head, and looked at me for a while.
"Heard there was three people killed at a construction site in Somerville last night," he said. "Two of them killed with a knife. One with a .40 caliber handgun."
"World's going to hell in a handbasket," I said.
Quirk nodded.
"Guy shot to death was Stephano DeLauria, who is the husband of Jumbo Nelson's agent."
"Tough on Alice," I said.
Quirk nodded.
"He was a button man," Quirk said. "For an L.A. Mob."
"Really?" I said.
"Had a big rep, I'm told," Quirk said.
"Well," I said. "I feel bad for Alice."
Quirk looked at me some more.
"I'll bet you do," he said.
I stood.
"We done?" I said.
Quirk nodded.
"Nice job," he said.
I said, "Thanks," and left.
I had one more thing I had to do.
63
TOM LOPATA'S OFFICE was in a converted storefront in Malden Square. There were several desks. Tom sat at the one closest to the door. The others were unoccupied.
He stood when I came in, and I could see him flipping through his mental Rolodex until he matched my face with a name. Then he stuck out his hand.
"Hey," he said. "Mr. Spenser, excellent to see you."
I didn't shake hands with him.
"I've stopped by to tell you what I know," I said. "I'm not telling anyone else. But I want to be sure that you know that I know."
"Sure," he said, and sat down. "Sure. I'll help you any way I can."
He gestured toward a chair. I stayed on my feet.
"You drove your daughter in to hook up with Jumbo Nelson," I said. "We know that. What only you and I know is that you did it because you hoped it would help you sell a big policy to him and the movie company."
"What are you saying?"
"I'm saying you pimped your daughter to a notorious pig. For money, and it got her killed."
"Why. . . What good does this kind of talk do now?" Lopata said.
"It doesn't do the kid any good. And I won't tell your wife or your son. I won't tell the cops. I won't tell anybody. But I want you to wake up every morning of every day and know what you did," I said. "Every morning."
"This is crazy," he said. "There's no way you could know this. I didn't do anything wrong."
I looked at him.
"I didn't," he said.
I didn't answer.
"I spent my life, for crissake, feeding them and buying them stuff I couldn't afford, and sending them to schools I couldn't afford. My fucking son is at Harvard. All I wanted was for her to put in a good word for me, just once. Is that fucking evil?"
"Yeah," I said. "In fact, it is."
"Come on," he said. "That's bullshit. I didn't do nothing so bad."
"Think about it," I said. "Every day."
I left.
WHEN I GOT BACK to Boston I changed into sweats, put some clean clothes and a shaving kit in a gym bag, and went down to the Harbor Health Club. I lifted weights. I hit the speed bag. I hit the heavy bag until the sweat was all over me and soaking through my shirt. Then I went to the steam room and sat for a long time. When I came out, I showered and shaved and put on my clean clothes.
It was still raining when I came out of the club. But it seemed to me that it was getting a little lighter in the west. Over Cambridge. Where Susan lived.
After the rain lifted, the world would probably seem as freshly washed as I was. The cleanliness was almost certainly illusory, or at best short-lasting. But life is mostly metaphor, anyway.
I got in my car and drove west.
THE SPENSER NOVELS
Painted Ladies
The Professional
Rough Weather
Now & Then
Hundred-Dol
lar Baby
School Days
Cold Service
Bad Business
Back Story
Widow's Walk
Potshot
Hugger Mugger
Hush Money
Sudden Mischief
Small Vices
Chance
Thin Air
Walking Shadow
Paper Doll
Double Deuce
Pastime
Stardust
Playmates
Crimson Joy
Pale Kings and Princes
Taming a Sea-Horse
A Catskill Eagle
Valediction
The Widening Gyre
Ceremony
A Savage Place
Early Autumn
Looking for Rachel Wallace
The Judas Goat
Promised Land
Mortal Stakes
God Save the Child
The Godwulf Manuscript
THE JESSE STONE NOVELS
Split Image
Night and Day
Stranger in Paradise
High Profile
Sea Change
Stone Cold
Death in Paradise
Trouble in Paradise
Night Passage
THE SUNNY RANDALL NOVELS
Spare Change
Blue Screen
Melancholy Baby
Shrink Rap
Perish Twice
Family Honor
THE VIRGIL COLE/EVERETT HITCH NOVELS
Blue-Eyed Devil
Brimstone
Resolution
Appaloosa
ALSO BY ROBERT B. PARKER
Double Play
Gunman's Rhapsody
All Our Yesterdays
A Year at the Races (with Joan H. Parker)
Perchance to Dream
Poodle Springs (with Raymond Chandler)
Love and Glory
Wilderness
Three Weeks in Spring (with Joan H. Parker)
Training with Weights (with John R. Marsh)
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
Chapter 56
Chapter 57
Chapter 58
Chapter 59
Chapter 60
Chapter 61
Chapter 62
Chapter 63
Sixkill Page 17
