Роберт Паркер - Sixkill

“They do,” Quirk said. “He was probably with her when she died, and what they were doing may have killed her, I don’t know. But I don’t think you can convict a guy of murder on what we’ve got, and I’m afraid we might.”

“The fact that he’s a creep helps move it along,” I said.

“It’s not illegal to be a pain in the ass,” Quirk said. “It was, you and me probably be doing time.”

“Maybe you,” I said. “Whaddya need from me?”

“I want you to look into it,” Quirk said.

“Because you can’t?”

“Correct,” Quirk said.

“Anybody gonna pay me?” I said.

“The movie studio has hired Rita Fiore to represent Jumbo,” Quirk said. “I’ve talked to her. She says Cone, Oakes will hire you to investigate.”

“And bill the studio,” I said.

“Be my guess,” Quirk said.

“What makes you think he didn’t commit first-degree murder?” I said.

“Maybe he did,” Quirk said. “And if he did, we’ll try to prove it. But right now I think he’s being railroaded, and I can’t stop it and stay a cop.”

“What if I find out that he’s guilty as charged?”

“Tell me,” Quirk said. “I’ll be thrilled. You want to look at our notes, so far?”

“I like to start fresh,” I said. “I think better if I’m in the process.”

“Yeah,” Quirk said. “I know.”

“Okay,” I said.

“Okay you’ll take the job?”

“Yep.”

“Just like that?” Quirk said.

“Yep,” I said.

“You might start out by talking to Rita Fiore,” Quirk said.

“You might start out by not telling me what to do,” I said.

“Okay,” Quirk said. “What are you gonna do?”

“I’m gonna talk to Rita Fiore,” I said.

“Good idea,” Quirk said.

He almost smiled.

Pearl scratched at the bedroom door.

Susan got out of bed naked and let Pearl in, then came back and got into bed too late to keep Pearl from getting between us. Susan tried to pull the covers up, but Pearl was in the way.

“You cold?” I said.

“I don’t like to lie around naked,” Susan said.

“I’ve seen you naked five thousand times,” I said.

“That’s not the point,” she said.

She was trying to get the covers out from under Pearl so that she could pull them over herself.

“What is the point?”

“Lying around naked is wanton,” she said.

“And that’s a bad thing?” I said.

“You keep peeking at me,” Susan said.

“I don’t peek,” I said. “I stare.”

Pearl moved around vigorously for a moment until she was entirely comfortable, and put her head down in a position that allowed her to look at both of us.

Susan looked at her alarm clock.

“It’s ten o’clock in the morning,” she said.

“On a Saturday,” I said.

“And we’ve already had sex,” she said.

“Nice start to the weekend,” I said.

“And we’ll probably have sex again before the weekend is over,” she said.

“If we can shake Pearl,” I said.

“We’re grown people,” she said.

“I know,” I said.

“Don’t you think we’re oversexed?”

“You’re the shrink,” I said. “You tell me.”

“Yes,” she said. “I believe we are.”

“What should we do about it?” I said.

“Encourage the pathology,” Susan said, and smiled her rebelangel smile at me.

We were quiet. The sun wasn’t high enough yet to shine into Susan’s bedroom window, which faced west. But the light outside the window was bright.

“Quirk wants you to help him with that Jumbo Whosis murder,” she said.

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“He thinks Jumbo might be getting railroaded,” I said.

“Can’t he stop that himself?”

“No,” I said.

“He’s in charge of the investigation, isn’t he?”

“Officially,” I said. “But there are a number of people in charge of him.”

“Such as?”

“Senior command staff. Commissioner. Mayor, governor... and such. All of them pressured by the media.”

“It’s why you quit being a cop,” she said.

“Some of it,” I said. “But to be fair, I don’t know that there is an organizational structure into which I would comfortably fit.”

“Nothing bigger than you and me,” Susan said. “Could he quit?”

“Quirk?” I said. “Quirk is a combination of two things. He’s married and has kids. That’s one thing. And he’s a cop. That’s the other thing. Without those, he ceases to be Quirk.”

“Love and work,” Susan said.

“Same as we are,” I said.

“And he cares about the law,” Susan said.

“He has to,” I said.

“Yes,” Susan said. “Doing what he does. Defining himself as he must.”

“Quirk has killed people,” I said. “Lot of cops never draw a weapon their whole career. Quirk has. And even if he hadn’t, his business is forcing people, and preventing people, and incarcerating people.”

“Without rules, the responsibility would be daunting.”

“It’s daunting anyway,” I said. “But without rules, for a guy like Quirk, it would be impossible.”

“And the law provides the rules for him,” Susan said.

“Yes,” I said.

I could hear a couple of mourning doves in Susan’s backyard. They sounded like contentment. Pearl raised her head for a moment and stiffened her ears and listened. Then she decided they were inaccessible. Her ears relaxed and she put her head back down.

“How about you?” Susan said.

“You’re the rule,” I said.

“Surely there are some besides me,” she said. “Some principles other than my well-being.”

“Depends, I guess, on how you think about it,” I said. “I know that I would sacrifice any principle for you. And I know I would not sacrifice you for anything.”

“I understand that,” Susan said.

I could see a couple of treetops outside the bedroom window. They were still in winter. No buds yet. But the light had become even brighter, and it was windless, and the mourning doves continued hoo-hooing.

“I’m a simple tool,” I said. “I know what I like and what I don’t like, and what I’m willing to do and what I’m not, and I try to be guided by that.”

“And you do this difficult, sometimes dangerous, thing that you do because?”

We’d had this talk before, and never quite got the question answered. Pearl made a snuffy sound and got herself a little more comfortable at our expense.

“Because I can, I guess. Because I’m good at it.”

“And because you want to see things come out right,” Susan said.

“Yes,” I said. “That, too.”

“I’m much the same,” Susan said.

“I know,” I said.

On Monday morning, Susan and I had some cheese and fruit and hot biscuits made by me before she went downstairs to shrink heads. I cleaned up the dishes, shaved, showered, and, dressed to at least the sevens, went downtown to see Rita Fiore.

I always enjoyed seeing Rita. I’d known her since she was a prosecutor in Norfolk County, and we had stayed in contact while she moved into the private practice of criminal law, and rose to a partnership in Cone, Oakes, and Baldwin. Plus, she was hot for me, and I like that in a woman.

Cone, Oakes had fifteen floors on top of a high-rise with a view of the harbor and the ocean beyond. Rita was on the top floor.

“Wow,” I said when I sat down. “On a slow day you can sit and watch the planes fly in and out of Logan.”

“My days aren’t usually that slow,” Rita said. “I understand you’re working for me.”

“I prefer to think of it as ‘working with,’” I said.