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Authors: Robert B. Parker

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BOOK: Cold Service
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43
HAWK AND I were in Marshport, in a badly stocked bodega a half block up from the mouth of a weed-thick alley that ran between two paintless tenements. The alley opened at its far end directly across the street from Rimbaud's office.

"What story was the Gray Man going to tell?" I said.

"Don't know. I just told him get a Ukrainian down here at three, and let no one know he'd done it."

An uninteresting-looking gray Chevy pulled around the corner and parked by the alley.

"Well, he thought of something," I said.

Hawk nodded, looking at the car. A big man got out.

"Guy with Boots," I said, "at Revere Beach."

"Fadeyushka Badyrka," Hawk said.

"Anybody else in the car?" I said.

"We'll find out," Hawk said. "I'll watch Fadeyushka."

We went out of the bodega and walked across the street. The Ukrainian watched us come. No one moved in the car.

When we were maybe five feet away, Fadeyushka said, "What?"

Hawk shot him in the forehead with a nine-millimeter Colt. The Colt had a silencer on it and made only a modest noise. Fadeyushka went down without a sound. So easy. I stepped to the car with my gun out. No one was in it. Hawk unscrewed the silencer and slipped it into his pocket. Then he stowed the Colt and picked up Fadeyushka and moved him without any apparent effort into the alley, down between the houses, and deposited the body behind some trash cans right across from Rimbaud's big plate-glass window. I knelt down and felt over his cooling body and found Fadeyushka's gun stuck in his right hip pocket. It was some sort of European semiautomatic nine-millimeter pistol. There was a round in the chamber already. Hawk studied the dead man for a time.

"I come in the alley," Hawk said. "He's there shooting in the window. I shoot, get him in the head. He fall back there behind the trash. Gun falls out of his right hand," Hawk nodded, "lands there."

"That's where it'll be," I said.

"Okay," Hawk said. "I'll go in. I stand right in front of the front window, where you can see me. And I stay there until things are right. When I move out of sight, you shoot."

I nodded.

"The window is dead glass walking," I said.

"Then you head up the alley lipity-fucking-lop," he said, "scoot 'round the block and come running up saying, 'What happened?' "

"You already told me this once," I said.

"Never lose money," Hawk said, "underestimating your intelligence."

"Yeah, but I'm fun to be with," I said.

Hawk was looking at the office.

"Wait'll I move aside," he said

"Boy," I said, "you ruin everything."

"Don't call me boy," he said, and started across the street.

I stood beside Fadeyushka's mortal remains, holding his gun, and waited. Hawk went in the front door of Rimbaud's office. A moment later I saw his back through the window. There was no one on the street. No one but me and Fadeyushka in the alley. The people who referred to teeming slums maybe hadn't been to this one. I saw Hawk's back move left and he disappeared from view. I raised Fadeyushka's gun and fired three shots, as fast as I could pull the trigger, into the upper right-hand corner of the window. The plate glass shattered. The whole window disappeared in a cascade of shards. I put the gun near Fadeyushka's dead hand and sprinted down the alley. Out on the next street, I turned left. As I ran the block, I heard a gunshot. I knew it was Hawk. I turned left again and reached the end of the alley as Rimbaud and his two Hispanic cohorts reached it. One of them, Nuncio, whirled on me with a gun.

"I'm on your side," I said. "What happened."

Out of sight in the alley, Hawk said, "He with me."

Nuncio lowered the gun, but both he and Jaime watched me closely.

I stepped into the alley's mouth. Rimbaud was there with his gun in hand, standing just behind Hawk, who had his gun out.

"Tried to gun Mr. Rimbaud," Hawk said. "From the alley. Shot right through the window."

"Who killed him," I said.

"I did," Hawk said.

"My man was quick," Rimbaud said.

He looked a little rattled. So did Nuncio and Jaime.

"Was out the door 'fore I could even get my gun out, man," Rimbaud said.

"He was shooting from behind those trash cans," Hawk said. "He saw me coming and he, like, froze."

"Buck fever," I said.

Hawk looked at me.

"Don't call me buck," he said.

"Sho'," I said.

"So I able to drill him once in the head," Hawk said.

"You know who it is?" Rimbaud said.

He didn't seem eager to look closely at the corpse.

"Name's Fadeyushka Badyrka," Hawk said. "Works for Boots Podolak."

"The sonovabitch works for Boots."

Hawk nodded.

"Maybe Boots and Tony had a falling out," I said.

"You think Boots put him up to this?"

"Fadeyushka don't take a leak," Hawk said, "Boots don't tell him to."

"You don't even know him, do you?" I said.

Rimbaud looked cautiously at the dead man.

"Shit," he said, "I do. I seen him with Boots."

"I rests ma case," Hawk said.

Rimbaud stared at Hawk.

"Boots sent him," he said.

"Be my guess," Hawk said.

"Must have," I said.

"That mother fucker," Rimbaud said. "Wait'll I tell Tony. Tony will be bullshit."

Hawk smiled.

"I expect he will," Hawk said.

44
THE GRAY MAN, wearing a snap-brimmed hat with a wide brim, was leaning on the wall at the Wonderland MBTA station, reading the Boston Herald. Across from the dog track, Wonderland was the last subway station on the blue line, running north from Boston. Hawk and I walked down the platform and stood next to him. He paid us no attention. It was midmorning, and the station wasn't crowded.

"So far, so good," Hawk said.

The Gray Man kept reading his paper.

"Fadeyushka is dead?" he said.

"Yeah, and Rimbaud is blaming Boots."

The Gray Man nodded.

"When they find him," the Gray Man said, "the police will come at once to Podolak."

"And with a little help from you," I said, "Boots will blame Rimbaud."

"Describe the details," the Gray Man said.

Hawk told him.

"The window could have shattered in the exchange of gunfire," the Gray Man said.

Hawk nodded.

"This won't stand up if there's a real investigation by some good cops," I said.

The Gray Man smiled and looked up from his newspaper.

"Where would we find them?" he said.

"Good point," I said.

"Is the body easily visible?" the Gray Man said.

"No," Hawk said.

"Then discovery may not be imminent," the Gray Man said.

"Perhaps an anonymous tip," I said.

The Gray Man smiled his evanescent smile.

"Any theory on Boots's reaction?" I said.

The Gray Man shrugged.

"He cannot let it go," the Gray Man said.

He looked at Hawk.

"And the Ukrainians," he said, "whose number have depleted, will require revenge."

"You know that," I said.

"I know Ukrainians," he said.

"Racial profiling?" I said.

"I know Ukrainians," the Gray Man said. "And Marcus?"

"He don't like Rimbaud," Hawk said. "But it's his daughter's husband."

"I understand that she is not a particularly savory daughter," the Gray Man said.

"Still his daughter," Hawk said. "Tony can't let it happen."

"Besides," I said. "Both of them will think they've been double-crossed by the other one."

Hawk smiled.

"When in fact they double-crossed by us," he said.

"Which would annoy them both, should they discover it," the Gray Man said.

"And unite them in a common purpose," I said.

"Which would be?" the Gray Man said.

"Us," Hawk said.

"Fortunately," the Gray Man said, "at my end of the thing, we are not dealing with terribly smart people. How about Marcus."

"Tony pretty smart," Hawk said.

The Gray Man nodded, gazing across the platform at a young woman in a short, flowered dress.

"Well," he said. "That would be your end of the thing."

45
IT WAS MAY, and the weather was nice. Hawk and I sat with Leonard on the seawall that ran along Ocean Drive in Marshport, where the dark ocean stretched out to the east until it merged along the far horizon with eternity.

"Amazin'," Hawk said. "Dump like Marshport got such a nice ocean view."

"Nice," Leonard said. "Tony wants to know what you know about Boots trying to have Rimbaud capped."

Leonard spoke very softly.

"He tell you 'bout it?"

"He wants to hear your story," Leonard said.

"Lucky we was there," Hawk said.

I knew how fast Hawk's mind had moved between the question and the answer. Would Rimbaud admit that it was Hawk who had shot Fadeyushka? Or would he claim credit? Hawk decided that Rimbaud would be so scared that he probably wouldn't lie to Tony. It was the right response. Leonard didn't say anything, and his face showed nothing, but I could feel him ease up slightly.

"You the one aced him," Leonard said.

"Yes."

"You both up there to see Rimbaud," Leonard said.

His voice didn't inflect, but I knew it was a question.

"Lookin' for anything we could find on Boots," Hawk said. "Ain't no secret to you that we after his ass."

Leonard nodded.

"And why wasn't you in the office with Hawk?" Leonard said to me.

"Parking the car," I said.

"Whyn't you park it out front?" Leonard said. "Never nobody in that neighborhood anyway."

"Didn't think it would move our purpose along if Boots's cops gave us a ticket right outside Rimbaud's place."

Leonard nodded again.

"Gimme the whole story," Leonard said.

Hawk told him our version of the events. When he got through, Leonard nodded again.

"Lucky you were there," he said.

"What's Tony going to do?" I said.

"Didn't say."

"What do you think he'll do?"

"Didn't say."

Hawk grinned widely.

"What would you do," Hawk said, "you was Tony."

"Whatever Tony tole me," Leonard said.

"Okay," Hawk said. "I catching on that you Tony's man."

Leonard didn't say anything.

"You tell Tony that whatever he plans on doing 'bout Boots, we be prepared to help."

"Tony want to know first why Boots welshed on the deal," Leonard said.

"Maybe Rimbaud having too much success," Hawk said.

Leonard smiled for a moment.

"Probably not," he said.

"Tony send up some help?" I said.

"Brock ain't here."

"Where'd he go?"

"Back to Boston."

"Where Tony can keep an eye on him," I said.

"Tony got couple people over there."

"On the wharf," I said.

Leonard nodded.

"Bet Jolene likes that," I said.

"Jolene don't like much," Leonard said.

46
"I LET A couple guys beat me at pool," Vinnie said. "And I let a guy cheat me at blackjack. He had a fucking marked deck I could read better than he could."

"And?" Hawk said.

"Somebody owes me for the money I lost," Vinnie said.

We were in a pizza joint in Chelsea, with a nice view of the Mystic River Bridge. The bridge had been renamed the Tobin Bridge about forty years ago, but I remain a traditionalist.

"I didn't hire you," Hawk said. "Speak to your employer."

Vinnie looked at me.

"How 'bout I pay for the pizza," I said.

"You was going to do that anyway," Vinnie said.

"What'd you get," Hawk said, "for all that losing?"

"Town's really organized," Vinnie said. "There's the vendors: dope, numbers, whores. Then there's block sergeants and section captains and the city boss, Ukrainian guy."

"You got a name?" Hawk said.

"Sure, but I can't fucking pronounce it."

"Try," Hawk said.

Vinnie shook his head.

"Naw, but I wrote it down. Guy spelled it for me."

He handed Hawk a cocktail napkin, on which was printed Vanko Tsyklins'kyj. Hawk read it and nodded.

"Vanko Tsyklins'kyj," Hawk said.

"Yeah, him," Vinnie said.

"He's the head of the organization?"

"On the flow chart he would be," Vinnie said. "Everybody knows it's really Boots."

We had a large pepperoni pizza on the table and were sharing it, except Leonard, who had a small salad and a Diet Coke.

"All the Ukes work for Boots. One of them's his bodyguard now."

"Lyaksandro Prohorovych," Hawk said.

"Sounds right," Vinnie said. "People I talk to think the other kid, Rimbaud, is a joke."

"He's a blackberry," Leonard said.

"Blackberry?" I said.

"Guy wants to be black," Hawk said. "Even though he look like a slice of Wonder Bread."

"There's an actual name for guys like that?" I said.

"Sure," Hawk said. "Guys want to be extra cool like Leonard and me. Natural rhythm, lotta sex drive. Hope their dick gets bigger."

"Nice they can rebel," I said, "and be down and funky and still not get rousted by suburban cops."

"Tha's right," Hawk said. "Want to be authentic Africans like me and Leonard, without paying the, ah, price of admission."

"And you authentic Africans don't welcome converts."

Leonard was looking at me silently.

"What the fuck he talking about?" Leonard said to Hawk.

"I never do know," Hawk said.

"Just hoping to bridge the racial divide," I said.

"Oh, that's what you doing," Hawk said.

"Rimbaud got any following at all?" I asked Vinnie.

"He's got a straggle-ass Puerto Rican street gang. Thinks he's gonna take over the city."

"How many."

"Varies, mostly kids, not reliable. People he can count on? Maybe eight."

"So Boots could swat him like a fly," I said.

"Sure," Vinnie said. "He don't have the deal with Tony."

"And maybe he ain't got that no more," Leonard said.

"Storefront where he was doing business burned yesterday," Vinnie said. "Somebody torched it."

"Whole building?" I said.

"Yep."

"Tenants?"

"Couple Marshport cops came through; herded them all out before the fire started."

"Guess the deal with Tony is void," I said.

"Hear anything from the Gray Man?" Leonard said.

Hawk shook his head.

"So what are we gonna do?" Leonard said.

Hawk chewed some pepperoni pizza, which seemed like such a good idea that I took another slice. Hawk looked sort of thoughtfully at Leonard while he chewed. Then he swallowed and drank some iced tea, and patted his mouth carefully with a paper napkin.

"Leonard," he said. "You got to decide something."

Leonard waited.

"You either with us or with Tony."

"I'm with Tony," Leonard said.

"We probably with Tony, too," Hawk said. "But if it worked out that we wasn't, I'd need to know where you stood."

"Be sort of depending," Leonard said.

"Yeah," Hawk said, "it would. I ain't got no problem with Tony. I don't want to kill him or hurt his business."

Leonard was quiet, watching Hawk.

"I am going to put this town out of business and kill Boots and the two Ukrainians."

"What you going to do about Tony's son-in-law?" Leonard said.

"Nothing," Hawk said.

"I ain't afraid of you, Hawk," Leonard said.

"You should be," Hawk said. "You should be afraid of me and you should be afraid of this slick-talking haddock with me."

"Aw, hell," I said.

Vinnie seemed totally immersed in the coffee experience. I wasn't sure Vinnie paid attention to anything he wasn't paid to pay attention to.

Leonard shook his head.

"Tony told me to stay with you," he said, "and help out any way you needed, and let him know what was going on."

"And if we got something going on we don't want him to hear about?"

"Be depending again," Leonard said.

"Sometimes not letting him know might in the long run be helping out the best way you could."

"That what it might be depending on," Leonard said.

Hawk looked at me. I looked back. He shrugged. I nodded.

"Well, we deal with it when it comes up," Hawk said.

Leonard was a hard case.

"If you can," he said.

"Oh, hell, Leonard," Hawk said. " 'Course we can."

BOOK: Cold Service
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