'I know.'
'Listen to this, William. I see this girl and guy walking along, right? And the guy has got his hand in the back pocket of her shorts. I mean, they are right out in public and he's got his hand in her back pocket, feeling her ass. Man, if that was my daughter she wouldn't sit down on what her boyfriend was feeling for about a week and a half.
'So I know I can't get my mind in a serene state there, and I gave it up. I found a telephone booth, made a few calls. Oh, I almost forgot. The phone was in front of a drugstore, so I went in and got you these.' He took a bottle of pills from his pocket and tossed it to Billy, who caught it with his good hand. They were potassium capsules.
'Thank you, Richard,' he said, his voice a little uneven.
'Don't mention it, just take one. You don't need a fucking heart attack on top of everything else.'
Billy took one with a swallow of beer. His head was starting to buzz gently now.
'So I got some people sniffing around after a couple of things and then I went down by the harbor,' Ginelli resumed. 'I looked at. the boats for a while. William, there must be twenty … thirty … maybe forty million dollars' worth of boats down there! Sloops, yawls, fucking frigates, for all I could tell. I don't know diddlyfuck about boats, but I love to look at them. They . . .'
He broke off and looked thoughtfully at Billy.
'You think some of those guys in the alligator shirts and the Ferrari sunglasses are running dope in those pussywagons?'
'Well, I read in the Times last winter that a lobsterman on one of the islands around here found about twenty bales of stuff floating around under the town dock, and it turned out to be some pretty good marijuana.'
'Yeah. Yeah, that's about what I thought. This whole place has that smell to it. Fucking amateurs. They ought to just sail their pretty boats and leave the work to people who understand it, you know? I mean, sometimes they get in the way and then measures have to be taken and some guy finds a few bodies floating around under a dock instead of a few bales of weed. It's too bad.'
Billy took another large swallow of beer and coughed on it.
'But that is neither here nor there. I took a walk, looked at all those boats, and got my mind serene. And then I figured out what to do … or at least, the start of it and the shape of how it should go afterward. I don't have all the details worked out yet, but that'll come.
'I walked back to the main drag and made a few more calls – follow-up calls. There is no warrant out for your arrest, William, but your wife and this nose-jockey doctor of yours sure did sign some papers on you. I wrote it down.' He took a piece of paper out of his breast pocket. “'Committal in absentia.” That sound right?'
Billy Halleck's mouth dropped open and a wounded sound fell out of it. For a moment he was utterly stunned and then the fury which had become his intermittent companion swept through him again. He had thought it might happen, yes, had thought Houston would suggest it, and even thought Heidi might agree to it. But thinking about something and hearing it had actually happened – that your own wife had gone before a judge, had testified that you had gone loony, and had been granted a res gestae order of committal which she had then signed – that was very different.
'That cowardly bitch,' he muttered thickly, and then the world was blotted out by red agony. He had closed his hands into fists without thinking. He groaned and looked down at the bandage on his left hand. Flowers of red were blooming there.
I can't believe you just thought that about Heidi, a voice in his mind spoke up.
It's just because my mind is not serene, he answered the voice, and then the world grayed out for a while.
It wasn't quite a faint, and he came out of it quickly. Ginelli changed the bandage on his hand and repacked the wound, doing a job that was clumsy but fairly adequate. While he did it, he talked.
'My man says it don't mean a thing unless you go back to Connecticut, William.'
'No, that's true. But don't you see? My own wife.'
'Never mind that, William. It doesn't matter. If we can fix things up with this old Gypsy, you'll start to gain weight again and their case is out of the window. If that happens, you'll have plenty of time to decide what you want to do about your wife. Maybe she needs a slapping to sharpen her up a little, you know? Or maybe you just got to walk. You can decide that shit for yourself if we can fix things up with the Gyp – or you can write Dear Fucking Abby, if you want. And if we can't fix things up, you're gonna die. Either way, this thing is gonna get taken care of. So what's the big deal about them getting a paper on your head?'
Billy managed a white-lipped smile. 'You would have made a great lawyer, Richard. You have this unique way of putting things in perspective.'
'Yeah? You think so?'
'I do.'
'Well, thanks. Next I called Kirk Penschley.'
'You talked with Kirk Penschley?'
'Yes.'
'Jesus, Richard!'
'What, you think he wouldn't take a call from a cheap hood like me?' Ginelli managed to sound both wounded, and amused at the same time. 'He took it, believe me. Of course, I called on my credit card – he wouldn't want my name on his phone bill, that much is true. But I've done a lot of business with your firm over the years, William.'
'That's news to me,' Billy said. 'I thought it was just that one time.'
'That time everything could be out in the open, and you were just right for it,' Ginelli said. 'Penschley and his big stud-lawyer partners would never have stuck you into something crooked. William – you were a comer. On the other hand, I suppose they knew you'd be meeting me sooner or later, if you hung around long enough in the firm, and that first piece of work would be a good introduction. Which it was – for me as well as for you, believe me. And if something went wrong – if our business that time had happened to turn the wrong corner or something – you could have been sacrificed. They wouldn't have liked to do it, but their view is better to sacrifice a comer than a genuine bull stud-lawyer. These guys all see the same they are very predictable.'
'What other kind of business have you done with my firm?' Billy asked, frankly fascinated – this was a little like finding out your wife had been cheating on you long after you had divorced her for other reasons.
'Well, all kinds – and not exactly with your firm. Let's say they have brokered legal business for me and a number of my friends and leave it at that. Anyway, I know Kirk well enough to call him and ask for a favor. Which he granted.'
'What favor?'
'I asked him to call this Barton bunch and tell them to lay off for a week. Lay off you, and lay off the Gypsies. I'm actually more concerned about the Gypsies, you want to know the truth. We can do this, William, but it'll be easier if we don't have to chase them from hoot to holler and then back to fucking hoot again.'
'You called Kirk Penschley and told him to lay off,' Billy said, bemused.
'No, I called Kirk Penschley and told him to tell the Barton agency to lay off,' Ginelli corrected. 'And not exactly in those words, either. I can' be a little bit political when I have to be, William. Give me some credit.'
'Man, I give you a lot of credit. More every minute.'
'Well, thank you. Thank you, William. I appreciate that.' He lit a cigarette. 'Anyway, your wife and her doctor friend will continue to get reports, but they'll be a little bit off. I mean, they'll be like the National Enquirer and Reader's Digest version of the truth – do you dig what I am saying.
Billy laughed. 'Yeah, I see.'
'So, we got a week. And a week should be enough.'
'What are you going to do?'
'All you'll let me do, I guess. I am going to scare them, William. I'm going to scare him. I'm going to scare him so bad he's gonna need to put a fucking Delco tractor battery in his pacemaker. And I'm going to keep raising the level of the scares until one of two things happens. Either he is gonna cry uncle and take off what he put on you, or we decide he don't scare, that old man. If that happens, I come back to you and ask if you have changed your mind about hurting people. But maybe it won't go that far.'