Robert Parker: Split Image

"So," Reggie said. "How'd you know my guy at the gate had a gun on his right hip?"

"I guessed," Jesse said.

"And you guessed he was right-handed?"

"Most people are, and he was wearing a watch on his left wrist."

"Wow," Reggie said. "No wonder you made chief."

"It was nothing," Jesse said.

"What would you have done if you were wrong?"

"I'da thought of something else," Jesse said.

"I'll bet you would. Whaddya need?"

"Petrov Ognowski," Jesse said.

"What about him?"

"He's dead," Jesse said.

"Petey?"

"Somebody shot him in the back of the head. Probably with a.22 Mag," Jesse said.

"When?" Reggie said.

Jesse told him. Rebecca stopped rubbing Reggie's forearm but left her hand resting on top of his.

"Goddamn," Reggie said. "I wondered where he was."

"Ognowski worked for you."

"Yes."

"Doing what?"

"Security," Reggie said.

"Like Bob," Jesse said.

"Sort of," Reggie said. "Bob's, like, my guy. Petey was more like Normie and the guy at the gate. They took direction from Bob."

"And Bob takes direction from you?"

"Me and Becca," Reggie said.

"You got any idea why Petey got shot?" Jesse said.

"No," Reggie said. "Let's not bullshit each other. You know, and I know, I was in the rackets. You know, and I know, I done time. And you know, and I know, that everybody thinks I'm still in the rackets."

"Which he isn't," Rebecca said.

"And if he were?" Jesse said.

"I married him when he was," Rebecca said.

"And if he were again?" Jesse said.

"I married him forever," Rebecca said.

"How long you been married?" Jesse said.

He had no idea where he was going. But he had plenty of time.

"Twenty-one years," Rebecca said.

"Wow," Jesse said. "You're older than you look."

"I was twenty," she said.

"Kids?"

"No."

Jesse nodded and drank coffee.

Then he said, "How'd you folks end up next door to Knocko Moynihan? Everybody thinks he's in the rackets, too."

"I know," Reggie said. "He's married to Becca's sister."

"And you're close with your sister," Jesse said.

"Identical twins," Rebecca said.

"Close," Jesse said.

Both Rebecca and Reggie nodded.

"Think Knocko knows anything about what happened to Petey?" Jesse said.

"Might ask him," Reggie said. "Knocko knows a lot."

"And you don't," Jesse said.

Reggie smiled.

"I know a lot, too," he said. "Just not about this."

THE PATRIARCH of the Bond of the Renewal dyed his hair. It was the first thing Sunny knew for sure as she sat in the kitchen of the Renewal House and drank some tea with him. Without sugar.

"We don't allow sugar in the Renewal," the Patriarch said. "It's a stimulant."

"And the tea is not?" Sunny said.

"The tea is soothing," the Patriarch said. "It quiets the soul."

"I didn't know that," Sunny said.

The Patriarch smiled.

He was wearing a white linen shirt and white linen pants with reverse pleats. There were tan leather sandals on his feet. He appeared to have had a recent pedicure.

"You will probably find several of our practices amusing. But they all conspire to make us what we are."

"I'm hoping to chat with Cheryl DeMarco," Sunny said.

The Patriarch nodded. He was a smallish man with a smooth, pleasant face and some shoulder-length silver hair that must have taken some frequent color work to maintain.

"Why?" he said.

"Her parents want her to come home."

"You are a private detective?" the Patriarch said.

"Yes."

"May I see something that says so?"

"Sure," Sunny said, and gave him something.

He read and nodded.

"You are not, I hope"-he wrinkled his nose and pursed his lips as if he'd encountered a bad smell-"a deprogrammer."

"No," Sunny said. "Probably don't believe in it, and if I did I wouldn't know how to go about it."

"That's a relief," the Patriarch said. "I can understand why her parents would want her home. Most parents want their children home. But why not simply ask her. Why hire you?"

"They think you are a bunch of whackdoodles," Sunny said.

"Whackdoodles," the Patriarch said.

"Whackdoodles," Sunny said.

The Patriarch smiled.

"I must say, you are direct."

"Surely you must be used to it. A lot of people must think you're odd."

He nodded.

"They do," he said. "And I find it puzzling. There's nothing particularly odd in our teachings."

"What are your teachings," Sunny said.

"We believe in a pervasive benign spiritual presence in the universe. We feel no need to define it more exactly. We believe it is manifest in every aspect of daily life, if one will but pay attention. We oppose anything that clouds our perception of that spirit. We oppose anything that clouds our ability to connect to this spirit. We don't drink alcohol or coffee. We don't permit drug use, including nicotine. We don't believe living creatures should suffer for us, so we are vegetarians."

"No sympathy for the poor turnip?" Sunny said.

"You're teasing, I know. But we are aware that without death, there can be no life. It is a central myth of most religions."

"Death and rebirth," Sunny said.

"Of course," the Patriarch said. "Are you an educated person?"

"I don't know," Sunny said. "I went to college."

"So, yes," the Patriarch said. "We have to consume other living things, or we die. But we try to keep the consumption at the lower end of the chain of being."

He shrugged.

"It's the best we can do," he said.

"You haven't mentioned your teachings on sex," Sunny said. "It's a hot subject with parents."

"Ah, yes," the Patriarch said. "Sex."

"That one," Sunny said.

"Let me ask you what you believe."

"About sex?"

"Yes."

Sunny smiled.

"I like it," she said.

"Yes, most of us do as well. We believe in consenting adults. We believe in sex as an expression of affection, and we disapprove of sex as an expression of pathology."

"Well," Sunny said. "I can certainly see why her parents are horrified."

The Patriarch looked genuinely startled.

"You can?"

"Sarcasm," Sunny said.

"Oh, excuse me," the Patriarch said. "I am often too earnest."

"Better than the reverse," Sunny said. "Where do you get your funding?"

"I am quite wealthy," the Patriarch said.

"Is this your house?"

"It is."

"How'd you get wealthy," Sunny said.

"I inherited my parents' wealth," he said.

"No heavy lifting," Sunny said.

"My parents were a pretty heavy burden when they were alive," the Patriarch said. "But no, I've never had to scramble for money."

"Parents can be a heavy burden even when they are no longer alive," Sunny said.

"So the psychiatrists would have you believe," the Patriarch said.

"But you don't believe them?"

"Psychiatry is superfluous," the Patriarch said. "If we open our soul and simplify our life, the benevolence of the universe will flow into us."

Sunny nodded.

"Would it be possible to speak with Cheryl DeMarco?"

"Of course," the Patriarch said.

SUNNY SAT WITH CHERYL and her boyfriend on the patio in the front of the house, where below them in the harbor sailboats bobbed at their moorings and fishing boats went purposefully. The boyfriend was a tall, husky blond kid with a blank, sincere face. He sat beside Cheryl and held her hand.

"This here is Todd," Cheryl said. "He's my boyfriend."

"Nice to meet you, Todd," Sunny said.

Todd nodded a hard-bitten nod. He was there, Sunny realized, to prevent her from throwing Cheryl over her shoulder and dashing off.

"Are you, honest to God, a private eye?" Cheryl said.