”Why didn’t you tell me about him,“ Jill said to me.
”I did. I told you he would look out for you while I was away and that he was almost as good as I was, and better than anyone else.“
”But you didn’t mention…“ Jill spread her hands in a voilá gesture at Hawk.
”She means you didn’t tell her about me being a sexual icon.“
”You’re right,“ I said. ”I didn’t tell her that.“
”Are you almost as good as he is?“ Jill said. Like most things she said, it was larded with innuendo.
”Better,“ Hawk said.
”Really?“ Jill’s eyes were wide and excited. ”The other day he knocked down a great tall man, bing! bing! just like that.“ Jill made two darling little punching movements.
”Just like that?“ Hawk said.
”More or less,“ I said.
The waitress brought Hawk’s scotch and another white wine for Jill. They had learned her habits here and seemed to have mastered the technique of keeping her glass filled.
”Can you do that?“ Jill asked. She smiled at him, a TV Guide cover smile, over the rim of her wineglass and drank a bit.
”Don’t know about bing! bing!“ Hawk said.
Jill reached over and squeezed Hawk’s biceps. A moment of genuine surprise popped for only a moment into her eyes before the flirty TV-star cuteness slipped back in place.
”Whooooa,“ she said. Hawk stared at me.
”Pay’s excellent,“ I said.
Hawk nodded.
”Good to remember that,“ he said.
Jill slugged back most of the rest of her wine.
”So here’s how it’s going to work,“ I said. ”Hawk will take care of you at work and to and from. Cambridge P.D. will have a car here from six at night to six in the morning. Hotel security will watch your room. They’ll be connected to the prowlies by radio.“
”Prowlies?“ Jill said. She was glancing toward the bar. The waitress started toward her with another glass of wine, and I could see the tension ease as Jill spotted her.
”Police car,“ I said.
The waitress put the wine down. Jill picked it up, took a genteel sip.
”You want to go out nights, or whatever, you arrange it with Hawk.“
”And will he go out with me?“
”That’s for you and him to work out.“
”Will you?“ Jill leaned toward Hawk as she spoke. The throat of her simple white blouse was open and as she leaned forward there was a clear line of cleavage.
”Sure,“ he said.
”And I, meanwhile, will chase down whoever has been annoying you and urge them to stop,“ I said.
”Can you find him?“
”Sure,“ I said.
”How?“
”You start looking,“ I said. ”And you ask people things, and then that leads you to somebody else and you ask them and they tell you something that hooks you into somebody, and so on.“
”But where on earth will you start?“
She had a little trouble with the separation between earth and will.
”I already have,“ I said. ”I started with your friend Rojack.“
She frowned. She took a drink. She frowned again. ”I told you I don’t know him.“
”Know his name though,“ I said.
” ‘Course I know his name.“
”He says you and he were an item.“
”He’s a creep,“ Jill said.
”Is there anything you’d like to add to that appraisal?“
Hawk sat quietly. Now and then he took a small taste of his scotch. He watched Jill’s behavior happily, as if he’d paid a modest admission fee and felt he’d gotten a bargain.
”I don’t want to talk about him,“ Jill said.
”You think he did it?“ I said.
Jill shook her head angrily.
”I’ll find it out anyway,“ I said. ”Wouldn’t it make sense to tell me what you know, and get it over with quicker?“
”I’m hungry,“ Jill said.
I slid the bowl of smokehouse almonds toward her. She took a handful and ate them silently, then drank some more wine. She had turned away from me as she did so and was eyeing Hawk.
”You married?“ she said. Hawk shook his head. ”Got anybody?“ Jill said.
”Lots,“ Hawk said.
”I mean anybody special,“ Jill said.
”They all special,“ Hawk said.
”You like white girls?“
Hawk looked at me again.
”Tell me ’bout that pay again?“ he said.
”Good. It’s good as hell,“ I said. ”And you get a free watermelon, too.“
Hawk nodded. Jill bored in on him. ”Do you?“
”Not stupid,“ Hawk said. ”Mostly I prefer not stupid.“
”Did Spenser tell you what I’ve been looking for ever since I got to Boston?“ She put an h in Boston.
”A noble black savage,“ Hawk said.
Jill shook her head. She was implacable. She probably didn’t listen to what I said or Hawk said or the byplay between us.
”I want something about this long,“ she said and made her two-foot measuring gesture again.
Hawk examined the distance between her hands seriously, then nodded thoughtfully.
”Could send over my little brother,“ he said.
Chapter 15
HAWK was still nursing his first Laphroig, I was two-thirds through my first Sam Adams, and Jill was just beginning her fifth white wine.
”Before you doze off,“ I said, ”can we talk about Wilfred Pomeroy?“
Jill had no reaction for a moment, then she looked very carefully up from under her lowered gaze and said to me, ”Who?“
”Wilfred Pomeroy. Rojack says he was harassing you and had to be chased away.“
”I don’t know anything about it,“ she said.
”As far as I can tell, Jill, you don’t know anyone and you’ve never done anything. Why would Rojack make up a story about Wilfred Pomeroy?“
”Rojack’s a creep.“
”Who could think up a name like Wilfred Pomeroy?“ I said.
”Who cares about Pomeroy?“ Jill said. ”Why are you bothering me with all these creeps?“
There were two well-groomed young women in tailored suits sitting on the next couch. They both wore very high heels and they both were sipping Gibsons. Everything about them said, We have MBAs.
”This is called detecting,“ I said. ”I’m trying to find out who murdered your stunt double, in the hopes that I can dissuade him, or her, from murdering you.“
Hawk had leaned back in the couch and crossed his feet on the cocktail table. He held the single-malt scotch in both hands and rested it on a point above his solar plexus. He was examining the two MBAs with calm interest, the way one examines a painting. ”Her?“
”Could be a her, couldn’t it?“
”Why would any woman want to kill me? I don’t even know any women.“
”You know Wilfred Pomeroy?“
”No.“
One of the MBAs had become aware of Hawk’s gaze. She kept looking back at him in covert ways: pretending to glance out the window, casually surveying the room. She murmured something to her friend, who leaned forward to put her drink down and peeked at Hawk from under her bangs. Hawk continued to examine them without any reaction to their behavior.
”And Rojack’s lying?“ I said.
”Yes,“ Jill said. She had some wine.
”But you have no idea why he would tell lies like this?“
”No.“
I leaned back and rested my head against the back of the couch and drummed my fingers lightly on the tops of my thighs. Jill had some wine.
Hawk said, ”Hard to imagine why anyone want to harass her, isn’t it?“
I rolled my head a little to the left so I could look at Hawk.
”Hard,“ I said.
”Susan met her?“ Hawk said.
”Yes.“
”She has motive,“ I said.
Jill was savoring her wine. She seemed capable of not hearing any conversation she didn’t want to hear.
”Are you a detective too?“ she said to Hawk. Hawk’s smile was radiant. He shook his head. ”Well, what do you do?“
”Mostly what I feel like,“ Hawk said.
”But, I mean, do you protect people all the time?“ Again the big smile from Hawk.