Jesse went in. The room was maybe eight by eight, with shelves along the three walls. There was nothing stored there. The shelves were empty. The compressor was shut off. The windowless room was warm. There was a thermostat on the wall. It was set to thirty-five. Jesse turned the switch on. Somewhere he could hear the compressor begin to run quietly. Soon he began to feel cold air. He walked around the empty space and saw nothing. He went back to the thermostat and shut it off and left the refrigeration room. 1 6 1
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He stood for a time in the living room, listening to nothing, feeling the emptiness. Then he went outside and walked down to the beach and looked at the water. It was restless and active on the outer side of the island. There were whitecaps. The tide was high and there wasn’t much beach above the reach of the waves. The way the coastline curved, there were no other houses in sight, and he couldn’t see the road from where he stood.
He took his cell phone out of his pocket and dialed.
“Molly,” he said. “I’m at Five Stiles Island Road. Send Peter Perkins out here with all his stuff. Tell him he’s going to be looking for blood.”
“Whose blood?” Molly said.
“I don’t know yet.”
“Has it to do with Walton Weeks?” Molly said.
“I don’t know yet.”
“But it might?” Molly said.
“Or it might not,” Jesse send. “Could you see if you can find Peter Perkins.”
“Yessir,” Molly said.
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36
Sunny had supper with Jenn at the Union Street Bar and Grill, in the South End, across from the cathedral. Several people recognized Jenn and pointed her out to companions. When they came out, Sunny saw the stalker lingering across the street, near the sheltered bus stop. Sunny paid him no attention. She patted her left thigh as if in time to music, and gave the valet her ticket. As she got into the car she glanced in her side-view mirror and saw Spike get out of his car, two blocks back on Washington Street. She smiled and when the valet closed the door for Jenn, she put the car in gear and drove away without looking back.
R O B E R T B . P A R K E R
“I need to swing by my place,” Sunny said, “before I drop you off.”
Jenn nodded. She sat with her head back against the car seat and her eyes closed.
“What’s your ex-husband like?” Jenn said.
Sunny thought about it.
“Richie’s father and uncle run a mob,” she said.
“They’re gangsters?”
“Yes.”
“How about him?”
“I’m not sure.”
“You were married to him?” Jenn said. “You maybe still love him? And you’re not sure?”
“I don’t think Richie is even sure.”
“Is he a criminal?” Jenn said.
“No,” Sunny said. “I don’t believe that he is. But he is very loyal to his father and his uncle.”
“Even if it means being, ah, you know, illegal?”
“Yes.”
“How do you feel about that?” Jenn said.
“It scares me,” Sunny said.
She turned right off the northbound surface road and onto the Summer Street Bridge. Fort Point Channel was thick and dark beneath them.
“But,” Sunny said, “I guess I understand. I’m quite close to my father.”
“I envy you that,” Jenn said.
“You don’t have family, or you’re not close?”
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“Not close,” Jenn said. “What is he like, Richie? I mean, to be with.”
“He’s nearly impervious,” Sunny said. “Very contained. Quiet. But there’s something going on in there. Something that you think might explode someday.”
“At you?”
“No,” Sunny said. “Not at me.”
“Sounds a little like Jesse,” Jenn said.
“Yes,” Sunny said. “He is rather like Jesse.”
“Jesse is so controlled, but you know that he has some thing very dangerous in there.”
“Dangerous to you?” Sunny said.
Jenn opened her eyes and looked at Sunny and smiled.
“No,” she said. “Not to me.”
They parked on the street in front of Sunny’s building.
“It’s exciting, isn’t it?” Sunny said.
“Exciting?” Jenn said.
“Yes, having that kind of power.”
Jenn stared at her. The interior of the car was dimly lit by the street lamps. Sunny couldn’t see Jenn’s face very well.
“I never quite thought of it that way,” Jenn said after a time. “But yes. To be with someone who is dangerous but would never be dangerous to you . . .”
“So why are we both divorced?” Sunny said.
“I don’t know. I wish to God I did know. He’s like the one necessity in my life. He’s all I have for family. I know he loves me. I would trust him with my life.”
“But?” Sunny said.
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“But I can’t stay with him. I can’t be faithful to him. When I try I get claustrophobic.”
“And you don’t know why,” Sunny said.
“No. Do you?”
“No,” Sunny said. “We’re working on it.”
“We?”
“My shrink and I,” Sunny said.
“Oh God,” Jenn said. “I spend half my salary on shrinks.”
“If at first you don’t succeed,” Sunny said.
They got out of the car and went into Sunny’s building. 1 6 6
37
Healy sat in Jesse’s office with his hat on and one foot against the edge of Jesse’s desk.
“Okay,” Healy said. “You were right. It’s Weeks’s blood and the girl’s.”
“Carey Longley.”
“Yes.”
“So they were killed there,” Jesse said. “Or somewhere, and put in there, and kept cold.”
“So we have no real idea when they were killed,” Healy said.
R O B E R T B . P A R K E R
“Which means everybody’s alibi is essentially meaningless,” Jesse said.
“Which is probably why they were cold-stored in the first place,” Healy said.
“Somebody knew what they were doing,” Jesse said.
“They just kept them cold and didn’t freeze them. The ME
would have been able to tell that they’d been frozen.”
“Remember it sounded like Lutz was establishing an alibi sitting in the lobby and such.”
Jesse nodded.
“How would he know when we’d decide they died?” Jesse said.
“He wouldn’t,” Healy said.
“So I guess he just likes to hang around hotels,” Jesse said.
“I guess,” Healy said.
“And I guess we’ll have to reinterview everybody with the new understanding that we don’t know when they died.”
“Looks like,” Healy said.
“Might dig them up,” Jesse said.
“Might. If the Weeks estate would let you.”
“Or we got a court order,” Jesse said.
“In New York,” Healy said.
“Or we could dig her up,” Jesse said.
“Carey,” Healy said. “Nice idea. I talked to the ME already. Without knowing when they died and how long they were refrigerated . . .”
Healy shook his head.
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“Not worth the trouble,” Jesse said.
“No.”
Healy tipped his chair back slightly on its hind legs and teetered there, keeping his balance with one foot on Jesse’s desk, rocking slightly.
“Well,” Jesse said. “Whoever did it knew about the dream house on Stiles Island.”
“Did they follow them there and kill them?” Healy said.
“And see the walk-in refrigerator and improvise?”
“Or did they know about it ahead of time, and kill them there in order to refrigerate them?”
“No blood anywhere else in the house,” Healy said.