“Where is everybody,” Wellstein said.
“Meaning,” Jesse said.
“The movie people. Where are they?”
“Once they got word that production had been suspended, they packed up and left.”
“Left town?”
“Probably they just went back to their local accommodations.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
“Sorry to hear what,” Jesse said.
“I had hoped they would remain on the site. So that I might question them.”
“We had no idea you would be coming. We did speak with each member of the cast and crew, and collected contact information for all of them.”
“‘We’?”
“My officers and I.”
Wellstein smiled sardonically.
“I’m sure you did an excellent job,” he said. “I still wish they had stayed. But, hey, that’s water under the bridge now, isn’t it?”
His smile reeked of both personal and professional insincerity.
Jesse didn’t say anything.
“We’ll be taking over from here,” Wellstein said. “Thank you for all that you’ve done.”
“Would you like to see the information we compiled?”
“Not just yet. I’ll get back to you about it.”
Neither Jesse nor Healy said anything.
“Can you show me the crime scene?”
Jesse led him to the spot where Marisol and Frankie had been shot.
“Killing took place right here,” Jesse said. “CSI unit already did their inspection.”
“That’s damned fine police work, Stone,” Wellstein said.
“You should also commend Captain Healy for that. I’m sure he’ll be appreciative.”
Wellstein looked at Jesse.
“Are you being condescending, Chief Stone?”
“Jesse.”
“I don’t take kindly to attitude . . . Jesse.”
“Neither do I.”
The two men stared at each other.
“Do we have a problem,” Wellstein said.
“I would hope not,” Jesse said.
“I would hope not, as well.”
Jesse didn’t say anything.
“I think I can handle things from here,” Wellstein said.
“I would hope so,” Jesse said.
—
It’s uncanny,” Healy said as he and Jesse wandered away.
“What is,” Jesse said.
“How you manage to piss people off.”
“It’s a gift.”
“Lucas Wellstein isn’t someone you want to be on the wrong side of.”
“Too late now.”
“Can I ask you a question?”
Jesse didn’t say anything.
“What exactly was it that set you off?”
“I beg your pardon,” Jesse said.
“What about him got your goat?”
“Pretty much everything.”
“What everything?”
“Quit hocking me. You know exactly what I mean.”
Healy smiled.
“He is a bit of a shit,” Healy said.
“And that’s just for openers,” Jesse said.
48
Jesse had arranged to meet Frankie’s father, Henry Greenberg, at the hospital. He was already there when Jesse arrived.
Greenberg was a handsome man who was aging well. Jesse guessed him to be in his late fifties, still fit and youthful in appearance.
“Jesse Stone,” Jesse said as he approached Mr. Greenberg.
“Hank Greenberg.”
“Like the baseball player?”
“Better him than that crook from AIG.”
“Nice to meet you, Mr. Greenberg.”
“Hank.”
“Hank.”
“I’ve spoken with Dr. Lafferty,” Greenberg said. “He seems optimistic.”
“That’s the feeling I get.”
“Can you tell me what exactly happened?”
Jesse explained that it was primarily a case of being in the wrong place at the wrong time. That she hadn’t been targeted.
“I’m sure she’d be happy to know that you’re here,” Jesse said.
“Lafferty said they would be moving her into a private room so that I can sit with her.”
“That’s a good sign.”
“I hope so. She’s all I’ve got.”
Jesse gave Greenberg his card and wrote his cell-phone number on it. He promised to stop by again.
“This is very nice of you,” Greenberg said.
“I’m rooting for her,” Jesse said.
—
Did you really think you’d get away with it,” Jesse said.
He was seated on a straight-backed chair in the center aisle of the tombs, between the two rows of three cells each, in front of the one occupied by William J. Goodwin.
“Get away with what,” Goodwin said.
“Well,” Jesse said, “the crime, for starters.”
“We never thought anyone would catch on,” Goodwin said.
“You thought the rate hikes would continue to go unnoticed,” Jesse said.
“Yes,” Goodwin said.
Ida Fearnley was in the cell across from Goodwin’s, sitting on the cot, her head bowed.
Oscar LaBrea sat on a stool in the cell adjacent to Goodwin’s. His nose was heavily bandaged. The skin around his eyes was a deeply bruised blue-black, giving him the look of a demented badger.
The three of them presented a sad tableau.
“It’s not that your ideas don’t have merit,” Jesse said. “You make a compelling argument, and I’d like to believe that if you had gone about doing things legally, you might have been able to get some changes made.”
Goodwin didn’t say anything.
“Abusing the law never serves anyone’s purposes. How could you not have known that?”
Goodwin looked at the floor.
“What will happen to us,” Ida said.
“That’s for the courts to decide. I’ll be presenting your case to the district attorney this afternoon. He’ll take it from there.”
None of them spoke.
Jesse stood.
“For what it’s worth, you have my sympathies. You served the people of this town honorably for many years.”
Jesse stepped over to LaBrea’s cell. He stared in at him. LaBrea shied away.
“Do you really think you could have done it,” Jesse said.
LaBrea didn’t say anything. He was breathing through his mouth.
“You don’t have the cojones,” Jesse said.
LaBrea remained silent.
Jesse turned away from him in disgust.
There was nothing left to say.
—
It was dusk when Jesse opened the door to his house and was greeted by a complaining Mildred Memory. She hadn’t appreciated his absence and let him know it. She followed him into the kitchen, where he put his service belt and pistol on the counter and then fed her.
He poured himself a scotch.
When Mildred had finished eating, Jesse picked her up and sat down in one of the armchairs in the living room.
As a show of gratitude, she proceeded to lick his hand with her sandpaper tongue, then stretched out across his lap and rested her head on his forearm, pinning him to the chair. She purred contentedly.
Jesse sat back and thought about Frankie Greenberg and of the feelings he had developed for her, which he had not yet taken the time to analyze. She had suddenly appeared in his life, and they found themselves together. He liked her. He enjoyed spending time with her.
But he understood how new they were, and how uncertain. And how unlikely it would be for their relationship to continue once the movie was over.
What did that say to him? That he was attracted to dead-end relationships? That commitment continued to elude him by his own choice?
He thought briefly about Jenn and wondered where she was and who she was with. He had successfully rid himself of the burden of his ex-wife, yet at times like this, unsettled times, she still entered his mind.
He considered calling her, but he knew better than to invite her back into his life.
Here he was, once again adrift, his premises uncertain.