“When your bosses ask who was here, tell them Jesse Stone.”
He left without bothering to wait for her denial.
Nurse Lutz watched out the front window and waited a few moments after Jesse pulled out of the driveway to punch in Mr. Sarkassian’s number.
Sixty-three
Vinnie Morris was well turned out, but that was no surprise to Jesse Stone. Except for a brief period several years back when he had taken to wearing track suits, Vinnie’s wardrobe on any given day tended to surpass the value of Jesse’s weekly paycheck, before taxes. Today was no exception. Morris was dressed in a light gray wool box-check two-piece suit. The creases on the front of the pants were knife-sharp. Beneath the suit jacket was a custom-made light blue shirt and a slightly darker silk tie. The shirt cuffs extended a perfect inch below the jacket sleeves.
Vinnie shook his head at the sight of Jesse in his rumpled navy blazer, white shirt, jeans, and running shoes.
“Who dresses you? Let me send you to my tailor.”
“No, thanks,” Jesse said. “One day’s outfit would bankrupt me.”
“What’s the plan?” Vinnie nodded at the pawnshop.
“I want to rattle them.”
Vinnie smiled. “Easy enough.”
“Good.”
“You want me to say anything?”
Jesse said, “You’ll know what to say and when to say it.”
“Better be a good steak for lunch.”
Vinnie followed Jesse through the door. Jolene was helping another customer but noticed the two men enter. She didn’t make a happy face at the sight of Jesse, but it wasn’t a frightened expression. If she knew who Vinnie Morris was, Jesse was certain the look on her face would have been quite different. And if Molly had seen the two of them together here like this, Jesse could only imagine the look on her face.
Jesse made certain to place himself in front of the display case containing the Western novels he’d been looking at the last time he was there.
“Hello, Jolene,” Jesse said, as the woman came up to them.
Vinnie Morris stood next to Jesse, not saying a word. Jolene turned to Vinnie and was effusive about his clothing. Jesse was certain that she had made Vinnie’s day. Then she turned back to Jesse.
“Yes, I’m so sorry we weren’t able to help you during your last visit. But I see you are still interested in these novels.”
“I am, but could you please ask Jerry to come out here.”
She said, “I’m not certain he’s in.”
It was a familiar stall that Vinnie took as his cue. “Tell him I’d like to speak with him.”
Jolene rolled her eyes. “And you are?”
“Vinnie Morris.”
Jolene suddenly seemed to need the display case to hold her up. When she recovered, she turned and headed straight to the door she had disappeared through during Jesse’s last visit. But this time, Jerry was already coming through the door. He had no need of Jolene to deliver the message.
“Hello, Mr. Morris.”
“Hello, Jerry. How are you?”
“Fine, Mr. Morris. Good.”
“Really? You seem to be sweating a little there.” Vinnie offered him a pristine white handkerchief.
“Thanks,” Jerry said, waving the hankie off. “I’m fine. It’s nothing.”
“My friend, here,” Vinnie said, putting his hand on Jesse’s shoulder, “says you sold something that he had a receipt for. Normally, I wouldn’t care, but I like having good relations with the police.”
Jerry’s eyes got big, and he was sweating more heavily. “The police?”
Jesse took that as his cue and showed Jerry his Paradise police chief’s shield. Jerry seemed afflicted with the same weak legs that Jolene had experienced and put his hands on the display case for support as she had.
“Chief Stone has some pretty crazy notions about you, Jerry. He thinks you’ve been moving merch through here that is connected with a drug syndicate. You know how I feel about drugs. I told him you would never do anything that stupid, something that might blow back on me and my business. I told him you knew how angry I would be if you did such a thing. Tell him he’s crazy, Jerry.”
“Chief Stone, I can assure you we would never do anything to risk Mr. Morris’s concerns. Never.” Jerry was unconvincing.
Vinnie Morris reached across the counter and patted Jerry on the biceps. “Good man.” He turned to Jesse. “See, Chief Stone, what did I tell you?”
Jesse said nothing. He was sure Vinnie had sufficiently rattled Jerry’s cage. He shrugged, and after taking one last look at the Western novels, he left. Vinnie Morris stayed behind to say a few parting words to Jerry.
Just as Nurse Lutz had waited for Jesse’s Explorer to pull away before punching in Arakel Sarkassian’s number, Jerry did the same.
Sixty-four
Ambrose North strolled into the stationhouse as if he owned the place. Ambrose North was the kind of man who would stroll into the White House or St. Peter’s and act the same way. Annette North looked slightly embarrassed and not a little bit wary. Petra North appeared about ready to jump out of her own skin. Jesse didn’t recognize the attorney who accompanied them, but was certain he was a high-priced Boston criminal lawyer bound to underestimate Jesse.
“This is William Clark,” Ambrose North said, pointing at the attorney. “He is our daughter’s legal counsel.”
Jesse nodded. “Counselor.”
They shook hands, but it was perfunctory. Clark was conservatively dressed in a dark blue suit. He was a small, tidy man with a receding hairline and a serious demeanor.
“Chief Stone,” Clark said, “will you please explain to me why my client has been summoned?”
“Officer Crane went to the North household to have a casual conversation with your client about the opioid issues at our local high school. As is their right, Mr. and Mrs. Ambrose refused to give the officer access to their daughter. We have therefore requested a more formal interview. Your client is not under arrest, nor do we anticipate arresting or charging her, but we do have credible information that she has knowledge of a drug ring operating at the high school. The interview will be digitally and audio recorded.”
“May her parents join us in the interview room?”
“One parent, yes,” Jesse said.
Petra looked more and more nervous as her parents huddled with Clark. Jesse heard the lawyer advising the parents to leave it to him and not to come into the interview room. It was sound advice. It was Jesse’s experience that parents, even ones with law degrees, could not help but react emotionally when their child was involved or when questions touched a nerve. But, as Jesse had anticipated, Ambrose North insisted on accompanying Clark and Petra during the interview.
“Let us proceed, Chief Stone,” said Clark, gesturing for Jesse to lead the way.
Mehdi, Arakel, Stojan, and Georgi sat in the back room of a local Italian restaurant. The two thugs had stuffed their faces, seemingly without any sense of what they were there to discuss. Once their coffees had been served, Mehdi gave the waitress an extra twenty-dollar bill on top of the tip and asked her not to reenter the room for at least another fifteen minutes. She was happy to oblige.
Mehdi began when the waitress slid the door shut behind her. “Gentlemen, we have a serious problem.”
Stojan said, “Not to worry. We will be taking care from the girl and the teacher. We will enjoy, no, Georgi?”
Georgi smiled a gap-toothed smile and nodded. “Enjoy very much, yes.”
“At the moment, the girl and the teacher are mosquitoes on the ass of two elephants. First we must concern ourselves with the elephants. The mosquitoes can wait. Arakel, explain to them.”