Authors: Robert B. Parker

Split Image (16 page)

BOOK: Split Image

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T
HE NIGHT WAS fading outside Jesse's office window when Healy came in. He walked to a file cabinet, took a glass off the top, walked back around Jesse's desk, took a seat, and held the glass out. Jesse smiled and took a bottle out of his desk drawer and poured Healy an inch or so of scotch.

"You gonna join me?" Healy said.

Jesse paused for a moment.

"I don't think you're an alcoholic,"
Sunny had said.
See if she's right.

He got another glass and poured himself a drink. He made a "here's to you" gesture at Healy and took in a small swallow. Healy drank.

"What's new with your homicides," Healy said.

Jesse leaned back in his chair and put his feet up on the desktop.

"Lemme tell you about the Bang Bang Twins," he said.

Healy sipped his scotch.

"Okay," he said.

Jesse told him.

"Guess we misjudged them a little," Healy said.

Jesse shrugged and drank some scotch.

"You think the four of them were playing house?" Healy said.

"The Moynihans and the Galens?" Jesse said.

"Yeah."

"Molly says that no woman would play house with Knocko," Jesse said.

"I hope she's right," Healy said.

"Yeah, it's not an appealing thought," Jesse said.

"You think they were both fucking Ognowski?" Healy said.

"Maybe," Jesse said.

"If they were, now they aren't," Healy said.

Jesse nodded.

"You know what I'm thinking about?" Jesse said.

"I'd worry about myself," Healy said, "if I did."

"I'm thinking that this Bang Bang thing is a long-standing pathology. . . ."

"You been talking to your shrink," Healy said.

"I have," Jesse said. "But that aside, it seems like these women need to do what they do, and if they don't have Knocko, or Ognowski, what do they do?"

"Reggie?" Healy said.

"Maybe," Jesse said.

"On the other hand," Healy said, "if Reggie's part of the game, they had him before."

Jesse nodded.

"Two guys were killed," he said. "If it's the Bang Bang game. Which any way you turn it suggests they wanted more than Reggie."

"Does," Healy said.

His glass was empty. He held it out and Jesse filled it.

"Be good to know what they are doing now," Jesse said.

"Surveillance?"

"Round the clock?" Jesse said. "Out on Paradise Neck? I got a twelve-person department."

"Twelve's enough," Healy said.

"Town life goes on," Jesse said. "Parking laws gotta be enforced. Drunks gotta be hauled in for the night. Domestic disturbances have to be dealt with. Rabid raccoons have to be shot."

"Yeah, yeah," Healy said. "I get it."

"You want to loan me some people?" Jesse said.

"No."

"Figured you wouldn't."

"Can't," Healy said.

"No," Jesse said. "I know you can't. You got your own rabid raccoons to shoot."

"Surveillance camera wouldn't solve your problem," Healy said.

"No."

"You need more people."

"I do," Jesse said.

"But even if you had more people," Healy said, "and you're able to spot them in delicato, so to speak, what have you got."

"Maybe some leverage," Jesse said. "Right now they're just the grieving family."

"Maybe you can establish some connection to Ognowski's killing," Healy said. "That'd give you some leverage."

"Speaking of grieving family," Jesse said.

"Ognowski's got family?"

"His old man is around. He's about the size of Malden," Jesse said. "And he's gonna find out who killed his son."

"Maybe you should let him," Healy said.

"Let him? I can't even find him," Jesse said.

"I'll look in the files," Healy said.

He finished his second drink and stood.

"Keep me posted," Healy said.

"Sure," Jesse said.

When Healy was gone, Jesse washed Healy's glass in the sink. He looked at his own empty glass. He'd had only one drink. He could have one more. He poured some and put the bottle away, and sat and sipped the scotch and thought about how to get past the blank wall he kept bumping into in the two murders. When he was done with his second drink he sat for a time looking at the empty glass, and thinking about the murders, and about a third drink, and about Sunny Randall.

"I like that woman," Jesse said aloud to his empty glass.

He sat for a time longer. Then he got up and left the office and went home.

S
PIKE WAS DRIVING. Sunny sat beside him. Cheryl was in the backseat. Sunny was on her cell phone.

"Mrs. Markham? This is Sunny Randall. . . . Cheryl is with me, and we're coming to visit you. I think your husband should be there, too. . . . That is not my problem. He needs to be there."

She ended the call, turned the cell phone off, and turned sideways in her seat so she could see Cheryl.

"Golf," Sunny said.

"He plays golf every Saturday morning with people from work."

"How exciting for him," Spike said.

"I think it's icky and boring," Cheryl said.

"Ever play?" Sunny said.

"No."

"Hard to be so sure," Sunny said.

"What if we go there and they grab me?" Cheryl said.

"We grab you back," Sunny said.

"You and Spike," Cheryl said.

"Yep."

"What if they call the cops?" Cheryl said.

"They won't," Sunny said.

"How can you be sure?"

"Do you think your parents want to be publicly involved in a case where they arranged the kidnapping of their own daughter?"

Cheryl thought about it.

"That would be bad for him at work, wouldn't it," Cheryl said.

"Not so good for either of them," Sunny said. "At the country club, either."

"And you'd really tell?" Cheryl said.

"I'd do what I thought was in your best interest," Sunny said. "But the threat that I might make will prevent the police from getting involved."

Cheryl nodded.

"They care a ton about what people think," she said.

"Everybody cares some," Sunny said.

"Except me," Spike said.

"Sure," Sunny said. "How about those two young guys you talk to all the time when they come to the restaurant?"

"That's different," Spike said. "They're really cute."

"The trick is," Sunny said to Cheryl, "not to let it make you do things that are bad for you."

"You care what people think?" Cheryl said.

"Yes," Sunny said.

"You ever do things that are bad for you?"

"Yes," Sunny said.

She smiled at Cheryl.

"Being an adult," Sunny said, "allows me to instruct you in things I can't do, either."

"You don't talk much like an adult," Cheryl said.

"I'll get better as I get older," Sunny said.

Spike pulled the Navigator up in front of the Markham house.

Sunny looked at Cheryl.

"Here we go," Sunny said.

E
LSA MARKHAM OPENED the front door.

"Cheryl," Elsa said. "What on earth are you doing with these people?"

Cheryl shrugged.

Behind his wife, John Markham looked past his daughter at Spike.

"Who is this?" Markham said to Sunny.

"My walker," Sunny said.

"How y'all doin'?" Spike said, and smiled widely.

"Are you planning on coming home?" Elsa said. "Is that what this is all about?"

"May we come in?" Sunny said.

"We can talk here," Markham said.

"No," Sunny said. "We can't. We're not selling vacuum cleaners. We need to come in and sit and talk like civilized adults."

"About what?" Elsa said.

"Your daughter's well-being, kidnapping, stuff like that," Sunny said.

"What on earth are you talking about?" Elsa said.

"Oh, for crissake," Markham said. "Let them in, Elsa."

She hesitated.

"Goddamn it, Elsa," Markham said.

Elsa almost jumped back, and Sunny led Cheryl and Spike into the house. They sat in the living room, where Sunny had sat before.

"Now," Markham said. "What's all this about?"

"Just so we don't waste time," Sunny said, "I've spoken with Don Cahill and Harry Lyle. And I've been to the Rackley center, and Spike and I have spoken, somewhat briefly, with Abraham Patton, Ed.D."

Elsa said, "I simply don't know what you're talking about." Markham said, "Elsa, be quiet. Not another word. I'm calling a lawyer."

"Egad," Spike said. "A lawyer!"

"I'm not the police, Mr. Markham," Sunny said. "You don't need a lawyer."

Markham picked a cell phone up from the top of the coffee table.

"You won't need to talk unless you wish to," Sunny said. "All you need to do is listen to what I say."

Markham held the cell phone, but he didn't dial.

"You arranged to kidnap your daughter and, as you can probably tell, I can prove it," Sunny said. "The chain of connection is apparent. Too many people are involved. And none of them are likely to go under protecting you."

Markham was silent. Sunny held his stare.

"What has she been telling you?" Elsa said.

No one paid her any attention.

"You'd testify against your own parents?" Markham said to Cheryl.

Cheryl nodded.

"She'd testify," Sunny said, "as to what happened to her. As I would testify about what I know. The court, and of course the media, would respond as it saw fit."

"What if I asked you to leave?"

"We'd go."

"What if I asked you to leave Cheryl with us."

"She's free to stay if she wishes," Sunny said.

Cheryl said, "No."

"Which apparently she does not," Sunny said.

"And if I tried to prevent her from leaving, would he intercede?" Markham said.

"Oh, sure," Spike said.

Markham nodded. He put down the cell phone.

"What do you want?" he said.

Sunny could see why Markham had advanced in business. He was sort of all self-centered pomposity when you met him, but when it all hit the fan, he became quite controlled.

"I want you to let your daughter lead her life," Sunny said. "I want you to treat her as if you were loving parents. And I want you to support her as you would were she living at home."

"You think we are not loving parents?" Elsa said.

"I'm convinced that you're not," Sunny said. "But that's not the argument."

Without looking at his wife, Markham said, "Shut up, Elsa."

To Sunny he said, "Agreed. How much?"

"We'll work out the amounts and the means of conveyance," Sunny said. "And to be clear, if everything doesn't go the way we agree, I'll blow my whistle to the cops and the press."

"E-mail me the amount," Markham said, handing her a card.

"She may or may not stay in touch with you; that's up to her," Sunny said. "But I will stay in touch with her, and if you are interested, I'll keep you informed."

"Yes," Elsa said.

"She had a physical this morning at Mass General, and except for some traces of tranquilizer still lingering in her system, she's healthy. Couple more days and the tranq will have dissipated and she'll be fine."

Elsa nodded.

Sunny said, "Anything you want to say, Cheryl?"

"No," Cheryl said.

"All we tried to do for you," Elsa said to her daughter.

"That's aimless," Sunny said, and stood.

Cheryl stood. Spike had never sat.

BOOK: Split Image

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