"Howdy doo," Hawk said. And smiled kindly.
I said, "Take the piece by the barrel, with your left hand, and throw it in the river. You, with the hat, do it first."
The guy with the Red Sox baseball hat tossed his gun in the river.
The guy Hawk had decked made a groaning noise and shifted from facedown to his side. The second gunnie threw his piece into the Charles. Hawk walked over behind the Subaru and picked up the double-barrel. He started to throw it in the river, and stopped and looked at it a moment. Then he gave an approving nod and walked to his Jaguar. He opened the trunk and put the shotgun in and closed the trunk and locked it.
"Nice weapon," he said.
"Lie facedown on the ground," I said to the two shooters. "Hands behind your head." They did it. The shotgun man was on his hands and knees. I reached down and helped him to his feet. He was frowning with pain. "What's your name?" I said.
"Bernie," he said.
"'My Attorney, Bernie,' " I said.
"Huh?"
"It's a Dave Frishberg song," I said.
"We were just going to warn you," Bernie said.
"Un huh."
"We weren't going to clip you, man. Ask them." He gestured at the two men on the ground. "We were just supposed to tell you to lay off."
"And you was planning to speak to him through the shotgun," Hawk said, "which was why you was pointing it at him."
"Who sent you?" I said. "I know it's a corny question, but I can't think of how else to ask."
"Just a guy," Bernie said. "Guy I don't know. Just said he wanted you told to stop bothering Mr. Lehman."
"Honest to God?" I said. "Probably ran into him at the Athenaeum while you were researching Increase Mather."
"Just met him in a bar, is all," Bernie said. I slapped him with my open left hand full across the face. It rocked him and he took a step back and then steadied himself, blinking his eyes and staring at me. His headache must have been a starburst.
"Who was it sent you?" I said.
"Hey, man, shit," Bernie said. And I rattled his head with another openhanded slap.
"Better tell him," Hawk said, "'fore you make him mad."
Bernie shook his head and stopped with half a shake. I put the gun under my arm and slapped him left hand right hand left hand right hand as hard and as fast as I could. He got his hands up and protected his face. So I slapped him on the side of the head, keeping the pace. When he moved his hands to protect his head, I slapped his face.
"They'll, they'll… they'll kill me," he said.
I stopped.
Bernie had his eyes clenched shut. He nodded, his face red from the slapping. His lip was bleeding.
"They'll find out," he said. His eyes still shut, he dropped his hands a little farther and I slapped him again.
"Stop it, man, stop it," he said.
"Who sent you," I said. "You tell me and you walk away."
Hawk said, "You getting tired? Want me to hit him awhile?"
"Another couple of minutes," I said.
"Jacky Wax," Bernie said.
I looked at Hawk. "John Weatherwax," I said.
Hawk said, "Un huh. Which means Mr. Milo."
"Well," I said, "aren't we in the big leagues."
Hawk nodded. "Funny they send people from the farm system," he said.
"I'm offended," I said.
"Don't blame you," Hawk said. "Want me to shoot them?"
"No," I said, "not this time. I want them to go tell Jacky Wax to tell Mr. Milo that I want to know who Warren is and it might be easier if somebody just told me."
"They know I told they'll kill me," Bernie said.
"Phrase it any way you like," I said. "Hit the ground."
Bernie got prone beside his helpers.
I reached into my car and came out with a newly purchased can of Krylon maroon spray paint. I carefully spray-painted the hair of the two shooters.
"Be interesting," I said to Hawk, "to hear them explain this one."
"Punk," Hawk said. "They can claim they going punk."
"They did that long ago," I said.
Hawk went and got in his jag. He pressed a button and the windows rolled down silently. "Maybe next time they send major leaguers," he said.
"Should I get a different color paint?" I said.
Hawk chuckled. "Increase Mather?" he said.
"Hell," I said, "he's easy. How about `My Attorney, Bernie'?"
Hawk eased the Jag into gear.
"Never knew somebody knew more stuff that didn't matter," he said. He backed the Jaguar out.
"What else is there to know," I said. But Hawk was already rolling and didn't hear me. I followed him.
30
The next morning Hawk and I went to see Perry Lehman.
"Tell Mr. Lehman that I need to talk," I told the doorman. "I'm sure we can straighten this out."
The doorman went inside. When he came back out he said, "Miss Coolidge says she'll see you."
"It's a start," I said.
Hawk was looking at the doorman without expression, but in the blank and placid gaze there was somehow amusement. The doorman felt it and looked at Hawk.
"Fine threads," Hawk said.
The doorman opened the door and we went in. Same oak waiting room, same decanter of port. Gretchen Coolidge was waiting for us.
"What is it you wish?" she said.
"This is, my associate, Hawk," I said. "Hawk, this is Gretchen Coolidge."
Hawk nodded and smiled.
Gretchen said, "How do you do," and then turned toward me and said, "What is it you want now?" and then made a tiny sideways flicker of a glance at Hawk.
"I'm hoping for rapprochement," I said.
"Oh, really?"
"Yes, I have compelling evidence that Perry Lehman's life is in danger and I need to warn him of it and suggest a solution."
"Mr. Spenser," she said, "what on earth are you trying to do now?"
"Gretchen," I said, "observe this face. Look at these wide-spaced intelligent eyes. Is this a man who would deceive you?"
"Or could," Hawk murmured.
I ignored him. Gretchen gave him another covert eye flicker.
"Mr. Spenser. We are trying to run an honest business here. You have disrupted that with threats and intimidation on behalf of God knows who or what and driven Mr. Lehman and myself to near distraction. Now you want me to believe that you can prevent the execution of a death threat on the same person you've been harassing?"
"Distraction?" I said. "By golly, that's pretty good. I had hoped at best for annoyance, but distraction…" I whistled silently.
"I don't find any of this funny," Gretchen said.
"Lot of people tell me that," I said. "But this is on the level. The way things are developing there's a very real risk to Mr. Lehman." She stared at me for a moment.
Hawk said, "This business so legitimate, how come when Spenser start harassing you you don't call the cops."
"Our membership is entitled to privacy and not to police and press presence, Mr., ah, Hawk."
Hawk nodded. "'Course," he said, and smiled at her.
She held her gaze on him for a moment and then turned her face sharply back at me. "This is probably another harassment ploy," she said.
I didn't say anything.
"But I cannot take it upon myself to dismiss it as such, as no doubt you fully anticipated. May I have the details before I inform Mr. Lehman?"
I shook my head. "I don't think Perry would like me telling anyone but him the details."
She tightened her lips. "Of course," she said. "Again it's a ploy I can't really reject." She took a deep breath and let it out. "I'm afraid you've forced my hand, Mr. Spenser. Please have a seat while I inform Mr. Lehman."
She turned and went out through the big oaken door opposite the entrance. Hawk and I declined a seat and stood alone in the waiting room.
"Businesslike," Hawk said.
"Yes," I said, "she's very professional."
"Lots of professionals here,` Hawk said.
"Sort of," I said.
"We gonna paint Perry's head or what," Hawk said.
"I'm going to outwit him," I said. "And while I am you're going to keep the Royal African bodyguard from kicking me to death."