”Yes. When I felt like it, and I’ve been feeling like it a lot these last few years.“
”You usually enjoy it more than you did with old Eddie?“
”Of course, I—oh hell, I don’t know. It’s very nice sometimes when it happens, but afterwards I’m still hung up on guilt. I can’t get over all those years of nice-girls-don’t-do-it, I guess.“
”A guy told me you always went for the big young jocko types. Muscle and youth.“
”You have yourself in mind? You’re not all that young.“
”I would love to go to bed with you. You are an excellent-looking person. But I’m still trying to talk about you.“
”I’m sorry,“ she said. ”That was flirtatious, and I’m trying to change. Sometimes it’s hard after a long time of being something else. Flirtatious was practically the only basis for male-female relationship through much of my life.“
”I know,“ I said. ”But what about the guy who says you go for jockos. He right?“
She was silent awhile. An old Plymouth convertible went by with the top down and radio up loud. I heard a fragment of Roberta Flack as the sound dopplered past.
”I guess I do. I never really gave it much thought but I guess the kind of guy I seek out is big and young and strong looking. Maybe I’m hoping for some kind of rejuvenation.“
”And a nice uncomplicated screw.“
”That too.“
”But not with someone who just wants to rut and roll off.“
She frowned. ”Oh, don’t split hairs with me. You know what I mean.“
”No,“ I said. ”I don’t know what you mean. And I don’t think you know what you mean. I’m not trying to chop logic with you. I’m trying to find out how your head is. And I think it’s a mare’s nest.“
”What’s a mare’s nest?“
”Something confused.“
”Well, I’m not a mare’s nest. I know what I want and what I don’t want.“
”Yeah? What?“
”What do you mean what?“
”I mean what do you want and what do you not want.“
”I don’t want to live the way I have been for twenty years.“
”And what do you want?“
”Something different.“
”Such as?“
”Oh“—tears showed in her eyes—”I don’t know. Goddamn it, leave me alone. How the hell do I know what I want. I want you to leave me the goddamned hell alone.“ The tears were on her cheeks now, and her voice had thickened. Across the bridge Rose and Jane were in animated conference. I had the feeling Jane was to be unleashed in a moment. I took out one of my cards and gave it to her.
”Here,“ I said. ”If you need me, call me. You got any money?“
She shook her head. I took ten of her husband’s ten-dollar bills out of my wallet and gave them to her. The wallet was quite thin without them.
”I won’t tell him where you are,“ I said, and walked off the bridge and back up the hill toward my car back of the museum.
Chapter 10
Harvey Shepard had a large purple bruise under his right eye and it seemed to hurt him when he frowned. But he frowned anyway. ”Goddamnit,“ he said. ”I laid out five hundred bucks for that information and you sit there and tell me I can’t have it. What kind of a goddamned business is that?“
”I’ll refund your advance if you want, but I won’t tell you where she is. She’s well, and voluntarily absent. I think she’s confused and unhappy but she’s safe enough.“
”How do I know you’ve even seen her. How do I know you’re not trying to rip me off for five bills and expenses without even looking for her?“
”Because I offered to give it back,“ I said.
”Yeah, lots of people offer but try to get the money.“
”She was wearing a blue polo shirt, white shorts, white Tretorn tennis shoes. Recognize the clothes?“
He shrugged.
”How’d you get the mouse?“ I said.
”The what?“
”The bruise on your face. How’d you get it?“
”For crissake, don’t change the subject. You owe me information and I want it. I’ll take you right the hell into court if I have to.“
”Hawk lay that on you?“
”Lay what?“
”The mouse. Hawk give it to you?“
”You keep your nose out of my business, Spenser. I hired you to find my wife, and you won’t even do that. Never mind about Hawk.“
We were in his office on the second floor overlooking Main Street. He was behind his big Danish modern desk. I was in the white leather director’s chair. I got up and walked to the door.
”Come here,“ I said. ”I want you to see something in the outer office.“
”What the hell is out there?“
”Just get up and come here, and you’ll see.“
He made a snort and got up, slowly and stiffly, and walked like an old man, holding himself very carefully. Keeping his upper body still. When he got to the door, I said, ”Nevermind.“
He started to frown, but his eye hurt, so he stopped and swore at me. ”Jesus Christ! What are you trying to do?“
”You been beat up,“ I said. He forgot himself for a moment, turned sharply toward me, grunted with pain and put his hand against the wall to keep steady.
”Get out of here,“ he said as hard as he could without raising his voice.
”Somebody worked you over. I thought so when I saw the mouse, and I knew so when you tried to walk. You are in money trouble with someone Hawk works for and this is your second notice.“
”You don’t know what you’re talking about.“
”Yeah, I do. Hawk works that way. Lots of pressure on the body, where it doesn’t show. Actually I’m surprised that there’s any mark on your face.“
”You’re crazy,“ Shepard said. ”I fell downstairs yesterday. Tripped on a rug. I don’t owe anybody anything. I’m just doing business with Hawk.“
I shook my head. ”Hawk doesn’t do business. It bores him. Hawk collects money, and guards bodies, that sort of thing. You’re with him one day and the next you can hardly walk. Too big a coincidence. You better tell me.“
Shepard had edged his way back to the desk and gotten seated. His hands shook a little as he folded them in front of him on the desk.
”You’re fired,“ he said. ”Get out of here. I’m going to sue you for every cent I gave you. You’ll be hearing from my lawyer.“
”Don’t be a goddamned fool, Shepard. If you don’t get out of what you’re in, I’ll be hearing from your embalmer. You got three kids and no wife. What happens to the kids if you get planted?“
Shepard made a weak attempt at a confident smile. ”Listen, Spenser, I appreciate your concern, but this is a private matter, and it’s nothing I can’t handle. I’m a businessman, I know how to handle a business deal.“ His hands, clasped on the desk in front of him, were rigid, white-knuckled like his wife’s had been on the New Bedford-Fairhaven bridge. Probably for the same reason. He was scared to death.
”One last try, Shepard. Are you doing business with King Powers?“
”I told you, Spenser, it is not your business.“ His voice did a chord change. ”Stop trying to hustle yourself up some business. You and I are through. I want a check for five hundred dollars in the mail to me tomorrow or you’ll find yourself in court.“ His voice was hitting the upper registers now. The tin clatter of hysteria.
”You know where to reach me,“ I said and walked out.
Living around Boston for a long time you tend to think of Cape Cod as the promised land. Sea, sun, sky, health, ease, boisterous camaraderie, a kind of real-life beer commercial. Since I’d arrived no one had liked me, and several people had told me to go away. Two had assaulted me. You’re sure to fall in love with old Cape Cod.
I drove to the end of Sea Street and parked illegally and walked on the beach. I seemed to be unemployed. There was no reason I could not pack up and go home. I looked at my watch. I could call Susan Silverman from the motel and in two hours we could be having a late lunch and going to the Museum of Fine Arts to look at the Vermeer exhibit that had just arrived. Giving Shepard back his retainer didn’t thrill me, maybe Suze would pick up the lunch tab, but telling Shepard where his wife was didn’t thrill me either.