"Have you ever been hurt like this?" Cecile said.
"Yes."
"Did you want to be alone?"
"Susan and Hawk were with me. But the circumstance was different."
The waiter drifted solicitously by. I nodded. He paused. I ordered two more drinks. Cecile looked out the window for a while.
"You love her," Cecile said.
"I do."
"Is there a circumstance in which you would not want her with you?"
"No."
Cecile smiled again.
"How about if you're cheating on her?" she said.
"I wouldn't do that," I said.
"Have you ever?"
"Yes."
"But you won't again."
"No."
"She ever cheat on you?"
"She has."
"But she won't again."
"No."
Cecile smiled without any real humor.
"Isn't that what they all say?"
"It is," I said.
I sipped some scotch. Rain ran down the window, the streets gleamed. The scotch was excellent.
"You're not going to argue with me?"
"About what they all say?"
"Yes."
"No," I said.
Cecile studied me for a time.
"You're more like him than I thought," she said.
"Hawk?"
She nodded.
"I have never heard him defend himself or explain himself," she said. "He's just fucking in there, inside himself, entirely fucking sufficient."
There was nothing much to say to that. Cecile drank the rest of her cosmopolitan.
"And except for being white, I think you are just goddamned fucking like him," she said.
"No," I said. "I'm not."
She was studying my face like it was the Rosetta stone.
"Susan," she said. "You need Susan."
"I do."
"Well, he doesn't need me."
"I don't know if he does or not," I said. "But not wanting to see you now doesn't prove it either way."
"If he doesn't need me now, when will he?"
"Maybe need is not requisite to love."
"It seems to be for you," she said.
"Maybe that would be my weakness," I said.
"Maybe it's not a weakness," she said.
"Maybe an infinite number of angels," I said, "can balance on the point of a needle."
She nodded. The waiter brought her another drink.
"We are getting a little abstract," she said.
"I don't know if he loves you," I said. "And I don't know if you love him. And I don't know if you'll stroll into the sunset together, or should or want to. But as long as you know Hawk, he will be what he is. He's what he is now, except hurt."
"And being hurt is not part of what he is?" she said.
I grinned.
"It is, at least, an aberration," I said.
"So if I'm to be with him, I have to take him for what he is?"
"Yes."
"He won't change."
"No."
"And just what is he?" Cecile said.
I grinned again.
"Hawk," I said.
Cecile took a sip of her drink and closed her eyes and tilted her head back and swallowed slowly. She sat for a moment like that, with her eyes closed and her head back. Then she sat up and opened her eyes.
"I give up," she said.
She raised her glass toward me. I touched the rim of her glass with the rim of mine. It made a satisfying clink. We both smiled.
"Thank you," she said.
"I'm not sure I helped."
"Maybe you did," she said.
5
HAWK AND I went to a meeting with an assistant prosecutor in the Suffolk County DA's office in back of Bowdoin Square. It wasn't much of a walk from the hydrant I parked on One Bullfinch Place, but Hawk had to stop halfway and catch his breath.
"Be glad when my blood count get back up there."
"Me too," I said. "I'm sick of waiting for you all the time."
He looked bad. He'd lost some weight, and since he didn't have any to lose, his muscle mass was depleted. He still seemed to walk slightly bent forward, as if to protect the places where the bullets had roamed. And he looked smaller.
The meeting room was on the second floor-in front, with three windows, so you could look at the back of the old Bowdoin Square telephone building. Quirk was already there, at the table, with a Suffolk County ADA, a fiftyish woman named Margie Collins, whom I had met once before.
"Hawk," Quirk said. "You look worse than I do."
"Yeah, but I is going to improve," Hawk said.
Quirk smiled and introduced Margie, who didn't seem to remember that she'd met me once before. Since Margie was still quite good-looking, in a full-bodied, still-in-shape, blond-haired kind of way, her forgetfulness was mildly distressing.
"Our eyewitness shit the bed," Margie said when we sat down.
"Stood up in court and said he had been coerced by the police," Quirk said. "Didn't know the defendants. Didn't know anything about any crimes they'd committed. He was our case. Judge directed an acquittal."
Hawk was quiet. For all you could tell, he hadn't heard what was said.
"How'd they get to him?" I said.
"We had him in the Queen's Inn," Quirk said. "In Brighton. Two detectives with him all the time. Nobody in. Nobody out."
"Except his lawyers," Margie said.
"Bingo," I said.
"Yeah. Can't prove it. But when we flipped him in the first place, his lawyer was fighting us all the way."
"Did I hear you say lawyer s?" I said.
"Yes," Margie said. "The second one was in fact an attorney. We checked. But I'm sure he was the one carried the message."
"What does whatsisname get for bailing on his deal."
"Bohdan," Quirk said.
"He does life," Margie said.
"Which is apparently a better prospect than the one they offered him," I said.
"Apparently," Margie said.
She looked at Hawk.
"I'm sorry," she said. "We can't shake him."
Hawk smiled gently.
"Don't matter," he said.
"At least the man who shot you will do his time."
"Maybe," Hawk said.
"I promise you," Margie said.
"He ain't going to do much time," Hawk said.
Quirk was looking out the window, studying the back of the building as if it was interesting.
"They gonna kill him in prison," Hawk said. "If he gets there. He rolled on them once. They won't take the chance."
Margie looked at Quirk. Quirk nodded.
"Be my guess," Quirk said.
Margie looked at me.
"And what is your role in all of this?" she said.
"Comic relief."
"Besides that."
"My friend dodders," I said. "I have to hold his arm."
"Don't I know you from someplace?" Margie said.
"I swept you off your feet about fifteen years ago, insurance fraud case, with a shooting?"
"Ah," Margie said. "That's when. You remember that as sweeping me off my feet?"
"I like to be positive," I said.
Margie nodded slowly. Then she looked at Hawk.
"I've heard about you," she said. "You may want to deal with this problem on your own."
Hawk smiled.
"And I can't say that I'd blame you," she said. "But if you do, and we catch you, I will be sympathetic, and I will do everything I can to put you away."
"Everybody do," Hawk said.
"Meanwhile, we'll stay on this thing," Margie said. "It's a horrific crime. But honestly, I'm not optimistic. What we had was the witness."
"And now you don't," Hawk said.
"And now we don't," Margie said.
"And they been acquitted."
"Yes."
"And double jeopardy apply."
"Yes."
Hawk stood slowly. I stood with him.
"When they kill him," Hawk said. "Maybe you can get them for that."
"We'll try to prevent that," Margie said.
"No chance," Hawk said.
He turned slowly toward the door, one hand holding the back of his chair.
"We'll catch them sooner or later for something," Margie said. "These are habitual criminals. They aren't likely to change."
"Thanks for your time," Hawk said.
"I'll have coffee with you," Quirk said. "Margie, we'll talk."
She nodded, and the three of us went out. Slowly.
6