Jack watched Schaffer pull a white handkerchief from his pocket and blot the moisture. Supposedly he'd started out as a construction worker who'd got into contracting and then had gone on to make a mint in custom homes. His speech still carried echoes of the streets, despite occasional words like "venue." And he carried a handkerchief. Jack couldn't think of anyone he knew who carried a handkerchief—who owned a handkerchief.
"I never thought it would happen to Ceilia. She's so…"
His voice trailed off.
Jack said nothing. This was the time to keep quiet and listen. This was when he tended to learn the real deal about the customer. He still didn't have a handle on Schaffer. He did know he didn't particularly care for the guy. Maybe it was the Mr. Bigtime Success Story attitude.
"I just don't understand it. Gus seemed like such a good guy when they were dating and engaged. I liked him. An accountant, white collar, good job, clean hands, everything I wanted for Ceil. I helped him get his job. He's done well. But he beats her." Schaffer's lips thinned as they stew back over his teeth. "Dammit, he beats the shit out of her. And you know what's worse? She takes it! She's put up with it for ten years! I'm to the point where I'm thinking the best thing that could happen to Ceil was Gus meeting with some sort of fatal accident."
Jack knew all this. They'd covered this ground during their first meeting.
"You're probably right," he said before Schaffer could go on.
Schaffer stared at him. "You mean you'll…?"
"Kill him?" Jack shook his head. "Forget it."
"But I thought—"
"Forget it. Sometimes I make a mistake. If that happens, I like to be able to go back and fix it."
Schaffer's expression flickered between disappointment and relief, finally settling on relief.
"You know," he said with a small smile, "as much as I'd like Gus dead, I'm glad you said that. I mean, if you'd said okay, I think I'd have set you to it." He shook his head and looked away. "Kind of scary what you can come to."
"She's your sister. Someone's hurting her. You want him stopped but you can't do it yourself. Not hard to understand how you feel. Anyway, why do you need me? Lots of laws against this stuff, you know."
"Right. Sure there are. But you've got to sign a complaint. Ceil won't do that."
"She's probably afraid."
"Afraid, hell! She defends him, says he's under a lot of pressure and sometimes he just loses control. She says most of the time it's her fault because she gets him mad, and she shouldn't get him mad. Can you believe that shit? She came over to my place one night, two black eyes, a swollen jaw, red marks around her throat from where he was choking her. I lost it. I charged over to their place ready to kill him with my bare hands. He's a big guy, but I'm tough. And I'm sure he's never been in a fight with someone who punches back. When I arrived screaming like a madman, he was ready for me. He had a couple of neighbors there and he was standing inside his front door with a baseball bat. Told me if I tried anything he'd defend himself, then call the cops and press charges for assault and battery. I told him if he came anywhere near my sister again, he wouldn't have an unbroken bone left in his body to dial the phone with!"
"Sounds like he knew you were coming."
"He did! That's the really crazy part! He knew because Ceil had called from my place to warn him! And the next day he sends her roses, says how much he loves her, swears it'll never happen again, and she rushes back to him like he's done her a big favor. Can you beat that?"
Jack had felt himself going through a slow burn as Schaffer was speaking. Now he turned in his seat to face him.
"Now you decide to tell me this?" He wasn't quite shouting, but Schaffer could have no doubt he was pissed.
"What? What's wrong?"
"Don't give me that! You knew nobody'd get involved in this once they learned your sister's some sort of masochist!"
"She's not! She—"
"Tell you what," Jack said, reaching for the door handle, "you go get a bat of your own and wait for this guy in an alley or a parking lot. Take care of it yourself."
"Wait! Please! Don't think I haven't thought of it. But I've already threatened him—in front of witnesses. Anything happens to him, I'll be number one suspect. And I can't get involved in anything like that, in a felony. I mean I've got my own family to consider, my business. I want to leave something for my kids. I do Gus, I'll end up in jail, Gus'll sue me for everything I'm worth, my wife and kids will wind up in a shelter somewhere while Gus moves into my house. Some legal system!"
Jack waited through a long pause. Here was the familiar Catch-22 that kept him in business.
Schaffer finally said, "I guess I figured if I got you out here and you saw how big he is and how small and frail Ceil is, you'd…"
"I'd what? Go all mushy? Forget it. Busting up this slug isn't going to change things. Sounds like your sister's got as big a problem as he does."
"She does. I've talked to a couple of doctors about it. It's called co-dependency or something like that. I don't pretend to understand it." He looked at Jack. "Can you help?"
"I don't see how. Domestic stuff is complicated to begin with, and this situation sounds like it's gone way past complicated. Not the sort of thing my kind of services can help."
"I know what you're saying. I know they need shrinks—at least Ceil does. Gus…I don't know. I think he's beyond therapy. I got the feeling Gus likes beating up on Ceil. Likes it too much to quit, no matter what. But I want to give it a try."
"If that's true, I can't see him getting chummy with a shrink just because you or anyone else says he should."
"Yeah. But if he was hospitalized…" Schaffer raised his eyebrows, inviting Jack to finish the thought.
"You really think if your brother-in-law was laid up in a hospital bed for a while, a victim of violence himself, he'd have some kind of burst of insight and ask for help?"
"It's worth a try."
"No, it isn't. Save your money."
"Well, then, if he doesn't see the light, I could clue his doctor in and maybe arrange to have one of the hospital shrinks see him while he's in traction."
"You really think that'll change anything?"
"I don't know. I've got to try something short of killing him."
"And what if those somethings don't work?"
His eyes took on a bleak look. "Then I'll have find a way to take him out of the picture. Permanently. Even if I have to do it myself."
"I thought you were worried about your family and your business."
"She's my sister, dammit!"
Jack thought about his own sister, the pediatrician. He couldn't imagine anyone beating up on her. At least not more than once. She'd had a brown belt in karate at seventeen and had never taken guff from anyone. She'd either kick the crap out of you herself or call big brother, the judge, and submerge you to your lower lip in an endless stream of legal hot water. Or both.
But if she were a different sort, and somebody was beating up on her, repeatedly…
"All right," Jack said. "I'll look into it. I'm not promising anything, but I'll see if there's anything I can do."
"Hey, thanks. Thanks a—"
"That's half down just for looking into it—no refund. Even if I decide not to do anything. The rest is due when I' ve done the job."
Schaffer's eyes narrowed. "Wait a sec. Lemme get this straight. You get five large with no commitment?"
"Might take me weeks to learn what I need to know just to make that decision."
"What do you need to know? How about—?"
"We're not practicing 'the Art of the Deal' here. You've already held out on me about this co-dependency thing; how do I know you're not hiding something else?"