Bad Business (11 page)

S
usan and I had dinner with Bob Cooper, at a table that also included Gavin, Bernie Eisen, and a flamboyantly good-looking dark-haired woman named Adele McCallister, whose title was elaborate and failed to reveal what she did. Cooper was at his smart, good-old-boy best, charming to all, and especially charming with Susan. Gavin was genially cryptic, and Bernie Eisen did his very best impression of a masculine winner.

Adele flirted with me through Susan.

“Well,” she said, “Susan, he's a big one, isn't he?”

Susan smiled at her. It was like old money and nouveau riche. Susan was good-looking, as if her family had been good-looking for seven generations. It was as much a part of her as her intelligence.

“Would you like to feel his muscles?” Susan said.

“Is he really as muscular as he looks?” Adele said.

“Fearful,” Susan said.

“Is that right?” Adele said, looking at me.

“Fearful,” I said.

“May I feel?”

“I can't make a muscle,” I said. “It will tear my coat.”

“Somebody said you used to be a fighter,” Bob said.

“Who?” I said.

“Oh, I can't recall, but there's some scarring around your eyes.”

“You used to box?” Adele said.

“Not everyone thought so,” I said.

“Oh, isn't that cute,” Adele said to Susan. “He's being modest.”

Susan's eyes gleamed at me for a moment.

“He has much to be modest about,” Susan said.

“Let me ask you this,” Adele said. “If all you men had a fight, would you win?”

Adele's question had a nasty little undertone.

“Question's really aimless,” I said. “Anybody can beat anybody. It's only a matter of who wants it more.”

“Boxing is not the only martial art,” Gavin said.

“Absolutely,” Bernie said. “Absolutely.”

Cooper watched it all as if he weren't a part of it, an observer, open-shuttered and passive. He seemed especially interested in Bernie. Adele slid her hand over and squeezed my upper arm. I was too vain not to flex.

“Oh my God,” she said, and looked at Susan. “Does he hurt?”

“Only in the cutest way,” Susan said.

Bob Cooper paid us every heed. Bernie Eisen told some jokes. Gavin maintained his reserve. Susan and I
fought Adele off for the rest of the meal. After dinner while the Kinergy winners crowded into the bar for Irish cream on the rocks, Susan and I went up to our room.

In the elevator I said to Susan, “When we go into our room, don't say anything until I tell you.”

“Why, do you think there's some sort of device?”

“How did he know I boxed?” I said.

“Healy must have talked to him,” Susan said. “Maybe Healy told him.”

“Healy doesn't tell anybody anything,” I said.

“No, you're right. His business is to know, not to tell.”

“Like you.”

Susan smiled.

“My business is to keep Adele from climbing in through your fly,” Susan said.

“Ever vigilant,” I said.

“So CEO Bob must have been checking on you.”

“And he might want to know more,” I said.

The elevator door opened and we went to our room.

S
usan sat near the window and looked out and was quiet while I looked for a bug. It was in the bowl of a ceiling lamp. Whoever put it in wasn't very inventive. It was the first place I looked. I took it out and put it in my pocket. Sometimes, if the subject probably expects to be bugged, you put in one he'll find easily and another one much harder to find, hoping that he'll think that disabling the first one takes care of it. I didn't think they expected me to look for a bug, but I snooped around the rest of the place anyway. No second bug. I took the one I'd found and flushed it down the toilet.

“That should make an interesting transmission,” Susan said. “Are we free to talk?”

“Let's risk it,” I said.

“Why would they bug our room?”

“To confirm my reputation as a sexual Goliath.”

“Lucky you found the bug,” Susan said. “Another reason?”

“Same reason Coop's been schmoozing me, same reason they invited me. They want to get a handle on me, they want to know what I know.”

“So you feel that they're involved in Rowley's death?”

“Don't know. They could just be trying to make it go away so they can return to the unfettered pursuit of profit.”

“Do you really think,” Susan said, “that one murder would have a serious effect on their business.”

I didn't say anything. Susan waited.

“Well,” she said. “Do you?”

“No,” I said.

“So, there's something more,” she said.

“So, there is,” I said.

“I think Coop's plan includes charming you,” Susan said, “so you'll think he's swell, and Kinergy is swell, and nobody there could ever do something bad.”

“That would be a lot of charm.”

“Does Coop think he has lots of charm?”

“Of course,” I said. “Never is heard a discouraging word.”

“Of course it's really because he has power,” Susan said.

“But he probably doesn't know the difference,” I said.

“Or chooses not to.”

We were standing together looking out the window at the ocean-washed sand shoals that gave Chatham Bars Inn its name. There were some people on the beach, and
some boats on the water, and blue distance beyond. I had my arm around Susan's shoulder. She had her arm around my waist.

“That was sort of ugly,” Susan said, “Adele's question about if there was a fight would you win.”

“I know. She must resent all the testosterone.”

“It put the men in an impossible position unless one of them wanted to challenge you.”

“Which would have been unseemly.”

“And quite possibly dangerous,” Susan said. “You are not exactly the Easter Bunny.”

“Gavin tried a little,” I said.

“Yes. The remark about martial arts. Do you think he's dangerous?”

“Sure.”

“Do you think you could beat him up?”

“Sure.”

“If you could keep her from molesting you,” Susan said, “Adele might be interesting to talk with.”

“If she knows anything.”

“She must know something worth hearing. And she doesn't like those men.”

“And might take pleasure in ratting them out?” I said.

“Discreetly,” Susan said. “By innuendo. In the guise of being feminine, or witty, or simply
so
cute and sexy.”

Susan put her head against my shoulder while we looked at the ocean.

“I don't want to sound sexually incorrect,” I said, “but do you think she slept her way up the corporate ladder?”

“Adele?” Susan said. “Does a cat have an ass?”

“Okay,” I said. “It's a job that's got to be done.”

“And don't you dare enjoy it,” Susan said.

It was getting dark. The beach had emptied. The wind was quiet. The water moved more gently. The blue distance had shortened and darkened as it closed down onto the horizon.

“Pretty much,” I said. “I think we enjoy each other.”

“Yes,” Susan said. “A lot.”

C
oop gave it one more try at breakfast. Susan and I were at a table by the window, where I was eating corned beef hash with a poached egg, and Susan was nursing half a bagel. Carrying a cup of coffee, Bob strode across the room trailing a gentle hint of expensive cologne. He pulled over a chair from another table, turned it around and sat straddling it with his forearms resting on the back.

“Hope I'm not interrupting,” he said.

“Not at all,” I said. “We were just speaking aimlessly of our hopes and dreams.”

Coop smiled.

“You are a kidder, aren't you?”

“Makes me fun to be around,” I said.

“Sure does,” Coop said. “Whadda you think, Susan.”

“Fun,” she said.

She broke off a corner of her bagel and dabbed on a
teardrop-sized smudge of cream cheese. Coop watched her for a moment. Then he looked back at me.

“Well,” Coop said to me, “on that very subject, I'd like to make you a little offer.”

“You'd like to employ me to look into Rowley's death,” I said.

Coop was startled. It was maybe the first actual feeling I'd seen him show.

“Well,” he said. “Yes. How did you know?”

“Because I turned down your pipe surveillance offer in Tulsa.”

“Tulsa?”

“Yeah. Tulsa in June is always tempting, but I couldn't leave Susan.”

Coop looked genuinely confused.

“Who made you that offer?” he said.

I grinned at him.

“Gav,” I said.

“Oh, well, I try not to micromanage. Are you interested in my offer?” He grinned. “I'm the CEO, it supersedes Gav's offer.”

“Rank has its privileges,” I said.

“Damn straight,” Coop said. “You interested?”

“No,” I said.

“Could I ask why?”

“I have a client,” I said.

“And our interests coincide. Wouldn't it be better for Marlene if we assumed the cost of investigating her husband's death? She's a widow. Her resources may not be limitless.”

“I don't know if your interests coincide,” I said. “The only way I'll know that is by doing my work.”

“You might consider working for us both. We could certainly improve upon your fee.”

“Same answer,” I said.

“He's a stubborn one, Susan.”

“But fun to be around,” Susan said.

Coop studied me for a moment. The rest of the Kinergy revelers were drifting in for breakfast, most of them lining up for the vast buffet.

“I'm a businessman,” Coop said. “And if I can't close a deal one way, I come around at it from a different direction.”

I ate some hash.

“How about coming aboard as a consultant?”

I smiled.

“Consultant Spenser,” I said.

“We could give you a pretty substantial consulting fee.”

“And I would advise Gavin on matters of security.”

“As needed,” Bob said.

He grinned.

“No heavy lifting,” he said. “You'd be free to pursue your own cases as well.”

“And Rowley's death?”

“Anything you discovered you could share with us, help us provide maximum assistance to the police.”

“That's all?”

“Sure,” Coop said.

I looked at Susan.

“That's all,” I said to her.

“How nice,” she said.

Her bagel was nearly a third gone. She must have been ravenous.

“Coop,” I said. “Susan and I will be driving home after breakfast. Let us think about your offer.”

“Sure thing,” Cooper said. “We'd like to have you aboard, Big Guy.”

“Thanks, Coop.”

Cooper got up and moved through the room. He stopped at several tables, putting his hand on shoulders, patting backs, laughing, bending over to confide.

“Coop,” Susan said.

“He likes me,” I said. “He really, really likes me.”

“What's this about Tulsa?”

“I'll tell you on the ride home,” I said.

“What do you think he wants?” Susan said.

“He wants to know what I know.”

“So he's fearful you'll discover something unfortunate for him or his company.”

“Which means,” I said, “that there is something unfortunate to discover.”

“And,” Susan said, “he knows what it is. Do you suppose he'll try to buy off the cops too?”

“He won't get anywhere with Healy,” I said. “But Healy's a state employee. You run a company like Kinergy, you have state access.”

“There was a time,” Susan said, “when you would have told Coop to go fuck himself.”

“True.”

“And were he to have objected, you would have offered to hit him.”

“Impetuous youth,” I said.

“Now you are pleasant, for you, and say you'll think about it.”

“Balanced maturity,” I said. “I sometimes learn more by being pleasant.”

Susan smiled. “And,” she said, “you can always offer to hit him later.”

“And might,” I said.

We finished breakfast and got our luggage. Susan carried my small overnight bag. I carried her big bag, and her smaller one, and the one that contained her makeup, and one she referred to as the big poofy one, and a large straw hat she had worn to the beach, which didn't fit into anything.

“Why don't you get a bellman,” Susan said.

“Are you trying to compromise my manhood?” I said.

“Oh, yeah, that,” she said. “Now and then I forget.”

I loaded the back of the car.

“Make sure to open up my big bag so it lies flat,” Susan said.

I did, and closed the trunk lid, and walked around to get in. As I opened the door on my side, I got a glimpse in the outside rearview mirror of a smallish man with long dark hair going into the hotel. I turned for a better look, but he was gone.

“Just one minute,” I said to Susan.

I walked back across the parking lot and into the lobby. There was no smallish man with long black hair. I looked in the dining room. Nothing. I glanced at the bar off the lobby, but it was closed until noon. I gave it up and went back out and got in the car.

“Looking for something?” she said.

“Thought I saw someone I knew,” I said.