"Be my guess," Hawk said.
"Must have," I said.
"That mother fucker," Rimbaud said. "Wait'll I tell Tony. Tony will be bullshit."
Hawk smiled.
"I expect he will," Hawk said.
44
THE GRAY MAN, wearing a snap-brimmed hat with a wide brim, was leaning on the wall at the Wonderland MBTA station, reading the Boston Herald. Across from the dog track, Wonderland was the last subway station on the blue line, running north from Boston. Hawk and I walked down the platform and stood next to him. He paid us no attention. It was midmorning, and the station wasn't crowded.
"So far, so good," Hawk said.
The Gray Man kept reading his paper.
"Fadeyushka is dead?" he said.
"Yeah, and Rimbaud is blaming Boots."
The Gray Man nodded.
"When they find him," the Gray Man said, "the police will come at once to Podolak."
"And with a little help from you," I said, "Boots will blame Rimbaud."
"Describe the details," the Gray Man said.
Hawk told him.
"The window could have shattered in the exchange of gunfire," the Gray Man said.
Hawk nodded.
"This won't stand up if there's a real investigation by some good cops," I said.
The Gray Man smiled and looked up from his newspaper.
"Where would we find them?" he said.
"Good point," I said.
"Is the body easily visible?" the Gray Man said.
"No," Hawk said.
"Then discovery may not be imminent," the Gray Man said.
"Perhaps an anonymous tip," I said.
The Gray Man smiled his evanescent smile.
"Any theory on Boots's reaction?" I said.
The Gray Man shrugged.
"He cannot let it go," the Gray Man said.
He looked at Hawk.
"And the Ukrainians," he said, "whose number have depleted, will require revenge."
"You know that," I said.
"I know Ukrainians," he said.
"Racial profiling?" I said.
"I know Ukrainians," the Gray Man said. "And Marcus?"
"He don't like Rimbaud," Hawk said. "But it's his daughter's husband."
"I understand that she is not a particularly savory daughter," the Gray Man said.
"Still his daughter," Hawk said. "Tony can't let it happen."
"Besides," I said. "Both of them will think they've been double-crossed by the other one."
Hawk smiled.
"When in fact they double-crossed by us," he said.
"Which would annoy them both, should they discover it," the Gray Man said.
"And unite them in a common purpose," I said.
"Which would be?" the Gray Man said.
"Us," Hawk said.
"Fortunately," the Gray Man said, "at my end of the thing, we are not dealing with terribly smart people. How about Marcus."
"Tony pretty smart," Hawk said.
The Gray Man nodded, gazing across the platform at a young woman in a short, flowered dress.
"Well," he said. "That would be your end of the thing."
45
IT WAS MAY, and the weather was nice. Hawk and I sat with Leonard on the seawall that ran along Ocean Drive in Marshport, where the dark ocean stretched out to the east until it merged along the far horizon with eternity.
"Amazin'," Hawk said. "Dump like Marshport got such a nice ocean view."
"Nice," Leonard said. "Tony wants to know what you know about Boots trying to have Rimbaud capped."
Leonard spoke very softly.
"He tell you 'bout it?"
"He wants to hear your story," Leonard said.
"Lucky we was there," Hawk said.
I knew how fast Hawk's mind had moved between the question and the answer. Would Rimbaud admit that it was Hawk who had shot Fadeyushka? Or would he claim credit? Hawk decided that Rimbaud would be so scared that he probably wouldn't lie to Tony. It was the right response. Leonard didn't say anything, and his face showed nothing, but I could feel him ease up slightly.
"You the one aced him," Leonard said.
"Yes."
"You both up there to see Rimbaud," Leonard said.
His voice didn't inflect, but I knew it was a question.
"Lookin' for anything we could find on Boots," Hawk said. "Ain't no secret to you that we after his ass."
Leonard nodded.
"And why wasn't you in the office with Hawk?" Leonard said to me.
"Parking the car," I said.
"Whyn't you park it out front?" Leonard said. "Never nobody in that neighborhood anyway."
"Didn't think it would move our purpose along if Boots's cops gave us a ticket right outside Rimbaud's place."
Leonard nodded again.
"Gimme the whole story," Leonard said.
Hawk told him our version of the events. When he got through, Leonard nodded again.
"Lucky you were there," he said.
"What's Tony going to do?" I said.
"Didn't say."
"What do you think he'll do?"
"Didn't say."
Hawk grinned widely.
"What would you do," Hawk said, "you was Tony."
"Whatever Tony tole me," Leonard said.
"Okay," Hawk said. "I catching on that you Tony's man."
Leonard didn't say anything.
"You tell Tony that whatever he plans on doing 'bout Boots, we be prepared to help."
"Tony want to know first why Boots welshed on the deal," Leonard said.
"Maybe Rimbaud having too much success," Hawk said.
Leonard smiled for a moment.
"Probably not," he said.
"Tony send up some help?" I said.
"Brock ain't here."
"Where'd he go?"
"Back to Boston."
"Where Tony can keep an eye on him," I said.
"Tony got couple people over there."
"On the wharf," I said.
Leonard nodded.
"Bet Jolene likes that," I said.
"Jolene don't like much," Leonard said.
46
"I LET A couple guys beat me at pool," Vinnie said. "And I let a guy cheat me at blackjack. He had a fucking marked deck I could read better than he could."
"And?" Hawk said.
"Somebody owes me for the money I lost," Vinnie said.
We were in a pizza joint in Chelsea, with a nice view of the Mystic River Bridge. The bridge had been renamed the Tobin Bridge about forty years ago, but I remain a traditionalist.
"I didn't hire you," Hawk said. "Speak to your employer."
Vinnie looked at me.
"How 'bout I pay for the pizza," I said.
"You was going to do that anyway," Vinnie said.
"What'd you get," Hawk said, "for all that losing?"
"Town's really organized," Vinnie said. "There's the vendors: dope, numbers, whores. Then there's block sergeants and section captains and the city boss, Ukrainian guy."
"You got a name?" Hawk said.
"Sure, but I can't fucking pronounce it."
"Try," Hawk said.
Vinnie shook his head.
"Naw, but I wrote it down. Guy spelled it for me."
He handed Hawk a cocktail napkin, on which was printed Vanko Tsyklins'kyj. Hawk read it and nodded.
"Vanko Tsyklins'kyj," Hawk said.
"Yeah, him," Vinnie said.
"He's the head of the organization?"
"On the flow chart he would be," Vinnie said. "Everybody knows it's really Boots."
We had a large pepperoni pizza on the table and were sharing it, except Leonard, who had a small salad and a Diet Coke.
"All the Ukes work for Boots. One of them's his bodyguard now."
"Lyaksandro Prohorovych," Hawk said.
"Sounds right," Vinnie said. "People I talk to think the other kid, Rimbaud, is a joke."
"He's a blackberry," Leonard said.
"Blackberry?" I said.
"Guy wants to be black," Hawk said. "Even though he look like a slice of Wonder Bread."
"There's an actual name for guys like that?" I said.
"Sure," Hawk said. "Guys want to be extra cool like Leonard and me. Natural rhythm, lotta sex drive. Hope their dick gets bigger."
"Nice they can rebel," I said, "and be down and funky and still not get rousted by suburban cops."
"Tha's right," Hawk said. "Want to be authentic Africans like me and Leonard, without paying the, ah, price of admission."