Authors: Robert B. Parker

Split Image (12 page)

BOOK: Split Image

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"Observe and learn," Jesse said.

"I do," Suit said. "I've already picked up the vocabulary. Maybe. Might. Possibly. I don't know."

"If Paradise ever gets a slot for detectives, you'll be the first appointed," Jesse said.

Suit grinned.

"Maybe," he said.

T
HE MARKHAMS LIVED at the head of a circle off a street that ran from downtown Concord out toward Route 2. Sunny parked her car across the street from the circle and maybe fifty yards up the street. It was her second week. Her cell phone rang. It was Jesse.

"Oh, good," Sunny said. "I'm so bored I'm close to fainting."

"What are you doing?" Jesse said.

"Sitting in my car doing surveillance on Mrs. Markham."

"Cheryl DeMarco's mother?"

"Yep."

"Can't let it go, huh?" Jesse said.

"Nope," Sunny said. "I'm worried about the kid."

"Anything so far?"

"Mrs. Markham takes yoga, and she shops for food," Sunny said.

"Of course, she may not know where her daughter is," Jesse said.

"Possible," Sunny said.

"Could Cheryl be in the house?" Jesse said.

"I don't think so," Sunny said. "They're the kind of people would send her somewhere."

"Who would they send her with?"

"When they first hired me they asked if I knew someone who would kidnap her."

"So it is not beyond their thinking," Jesse said.

"No."

"Somebody had to encounter her," Jesse said, "and persuade her to go with them to a place, and the place would need to persuade her to stay there."

"Yes," Sunny said.

"Who would that be?"

"I don't know," Sunny said. "But maybe I can find out."

"You got a plan?"

"Not everyone will coerce a young woman into a place she doesn't want to go," Sunny said. "Even at the behest of her parents."

"True," Jesse said.

"And," Sunny said, "they don't seem like people who'd know someone who would."

"No, they don't."

"Unless it was a lawyer," Sunny said.

"The right kind of lawyer," Jesse said.

"Their lawyer might know the right kind of lawyer."

"Or they might just have a friend who's a lawyer," Jesse said.

"If he went to an Ivy League law school," Sunny said.

"You might try checking that out," Jesse said.

"It's all hypothesis and supposition and guessing," Sunny said.

"That's called detection," Jesse said.

"But will it be as much fun as sitting in my car in Concord," Sunny said, "watching people dressed funny ride their bicycles?"

"Hard to imagine that it could be more fun than that," Jesse said.

"But it seems worth a try," Sunny said. "Did you call just to talk about me and my case?"

"Actually, I called to talk about me and my case," Jesse said. "But I got sidetracked."

"By me and my case," Sunny said.

"Exactly."

"So, how are you," Sunny said. "How's your case."

"The time I told you about, when I went on a bender and Molly and Suit covered for me."

"Yes," Sunny said.

"One of the things that set me off was I met these women married to a couple of mobsters, who seemed perfect wives," Jesse said.

"And you went into a tailspin," Sunny said. "Why them and not me?"

"Yes," Jesse said. "You know about that kind of tailspin?"

"Yes."

"Present company excluded," Jesse said, "these are two of the most compelling women I ever met. They're identical twins. In high school they were known as the Bang Bang Twins."

"They were promiscuous," Sunny said.

"They used to switch off on the same guy, see if he could tell which was which."

"Wow," Sunny said. "They ever have sex in the dressing room of an upscale boutique in Beverly Hills?"

"Maybe at the same time," Jesse said.

"Tell me more," Sunny said.

Jesse did. When he finished, Sunny was silent for a moment. Then she said, "Doesn't mean they haven't matured into lovely women."

"Unless they're still doing the Bang Bang thing."

"Whatever else it is," Sunny said, "it would provide several swell motives for murder."

"It would."

"And they each live with a husband, side by side," Sunny said.

"True."

"Does what you learned about them make you uncomfortable with your appraisal of women."

"And wives," Jesse said.

"Even worse," Sunny said.

"Much," Jesse said.

"Dix have any insights?" Sunny said.

"Haven't seen him yet," Jesse said. "First I need to know what the Bang Bang Twins are like these days."

"But you've talked about your first reaction to them," Sunny said.

"Yes."

"He say anything interesting?"

"No, but he looked interested," Jesse said.

"It's a start," Sunny said.

Again, they were quiet on their respective cell phones.

"You want to have dinner?" Jesse said.

"Tonight?"

"Yes."

"I'll come there," Sunny said.

"Really?" Jesse said. "Long drive home at night."

"Maybe I'll bring a little suitcase," Sunny said.

"What a very good idea," Jesse said.

"Don't get your hopes up," Sunny said.

"My hopes are always up," Jesse said.

"Good to know," Sunny said.

"Either way," Jesse said, "it'll be nice to see you."

"Either way?"

"Either way."

Again, they were quiet.

Then Sunny said, "Gray Gull?"

"Seven o'clock," Jesse said.

F
RESHLY SHOWERED and sitting alone in Jesse's living room, wearing one of Jesse's shirts for a bathrobe, Sunny called Pace Advertising and asked for John Markham.

"Mr. Markham is in Chicago this week. May I transfer you to his voice mail?"

"No," Sunny said. "Do you have an attorney on staff?"

"That would be Mr. Cahill. May I connect you?"

"Yes," Sunny said. "Thank you."

The line went silent, then a phone picked up and a male voice said, "Don Cahill."

"Hi, Mr. Cahill," Sunny said. "This is Sonya Stone in John Markham's office. He's out of town, and I need a little favor."

"Whaddya need, Sonya?"

"Mr. Markham asked me to call that lawyer you sent him to, and I've lost his name and number."

"John won't like that," Cahill said.

"I know," Sunny said. "Can you save me?"

Cahill laughed.

"Cahill to the rescue," he said. "Wait a second."

Sunny waited. Cahill came back.

"Harry Lyle," he said, and recited the phone number.

"Thank you," Sunny said. "You're an angel."

"You better believe it, Sonya," Cahill said. "You can stop by anytime to thank me."

"I will," Sunny said, and hung up.

She looked at Ozzie Smith's picture on the wall behind the bar.

"Sometimes, Ozzie," she said out loud, "I dazzle myself." She went into the bedroom and dressed and made the bed. The picture of Jenn that used to be on the bedside table was gone. Sunny smiled to herself as she packed her small suitcase.

Sonya Stone?

She cleaned up the breakfast dishes. It was kind of fun being housewifely. When she was through she went back in the living room and got out a copy of the Boston phone book and looked up Harry Lyle. He was listed as a criminal lawyer. She phoned and made an appointment, calling herself Rose Painter. Then she went into the kitchen where Jesse kept a notepad, and sat at the kitchen table and wrote him a note and left it on the bed pillow.

I'm glad I brought my little suitcase. XXOO
S

As she drove back toward Boston, she thought about Jesse. She liked having sex with him. What was not to like . . . as a sex partner. As a life partner? There was the drinking problem and the ex-wife. Sunny wasn't sure that he had actually rid himself of Jenn and the way he felt about Jenn.

She gave a small humorless laugh.

Like I'm rid of Richie. What kind of prospect am I for Jesse? I don't have a drinking problem, but I very well may be more addicted to my ex than he has been to his. Are we both settling for second best?
Dr. Silverman had said once that she was using other men as an anodyne. Were she and Jesse doing that, killing their pain with each other? . . .
Worse ways, I suppose.

C
HARLIE TRAXAL," Rita Fiore said, "Jesse Stone."

Jesse shook hands with Traxal.

"Charlie's the chief investigator for the Norfolk County DA," Rita said. "Jesse's the chief of police in Paradise."

"Any friend of Rita's," Traxal said.

"Covers a lot of ground," Rita said.

They were having lunch at Locke-Ober.

"Rita tells me you used to be in L.A.," Traxal said to Jesse.

"Robbery homicide," Jesse said.

"So you done some street work," Traxal said.

"Yep."

"Charlie often worked with me when I was a prosecutor down there," Rita said. "He knows more about crime south of Boston than anyone I've ever met."

"Rita knew a lot herself," Traxal said. "Until she went upscale to the big, fancy law firm."

"Which is paying for your lunch," Rita said.

"Thing I like best about big, fancy law firms," Traxal said. "I think I'll have the Lobster Savannah."

"Jesse is looking for South Shore crime gossip," Rita said.

Traxal looked at Jesse.

"You've come to the right place," he said. "Whaddya need?"

"Neal Bangston," Jesse said. "Knocko Moynihan, Reggie Galen."

Traxal leaned back and drank some of his iced tea. He was a sturdy-looking man, with gray hair and horn-rimmed glasses.

"I never got the bastard," he said.

"Which one?" Jesse said.

"Any of them, but I wanted Bangston most."

"Why?"

"Because we never caught him. Moynihan and Galen both did time, but Bangston." Traxal shook his head. "Lord Bangston of Hempstead."

"Dirty?"

"Absolutely," Traxal said.

"Couldn't prove it?"

"Never."

"He connected to Knocko and Reggie?" Jesse said.

"Yes."

"Tell me about it," Jesse said.

"You want stuff I can prove?" Traxal said.

"Tell me what you know," Jesse said.

"Bangston was a construction guy," Traxal said. "Knocko used to work for him once, bricklayer. Knocko was a tough guy. Used to box, strong as hell. Had a reputation, you know? And when there was trouble with somebody who didn't like the work Bangston was doing or the wages he was paying, he took to sending Knocko around to discuss it. And the bigger Bangston Construction got, the more there was to discuss."

"Like?"

"Construction not up to code, nonunion labor, pay below minimum, illegal immigrants, lot of overcharges."

"So," Jesse said, "Knocko became more and more important."

"And so did Bangston," Traxal said. "Big man in Hempstead. Big man in the Church, had a big charity event every year on his lawn. Married some rich Catholic broad from an important family. Moved up in the world."

Rita sat quietly, listening to them talk. Nearly everyone who came into the restaurant, Jesse noticed, looked at her.

"Meanwhile, Knocko started freelancing and got himself busted for extortion," Traxal said. "Three years in Garrison."

"Where he meets Reggie Galen," Jesse said.

"Soul mates," Traxal said.

He looked at Rita.

BOOK: Split Image

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