Роберт Паркер - Double Play

Burke nodded. He sat quietly for a moment.

Then he said, “Okay, drive back the way you came.”

“U-turn?” Richard said.

“Yeah.”

“What if there’s a cop?”

“Make the fucking U-turn,” Burke said.

They drove in silence back along the empty street. Two blocks from Robinson’s house, Burke said, “Stop here.”

The car stopped next to the hydrant where Burke had parked his car. Burke opened his door and put the canvas bag out onto the street.

“You’re on your own,” he said to Richard.

“What am I supposed to do with Chuck?” Richard said.

“Not my problem,” Burke said. “I was you I’d dump the car, get on a train and go live someplace else.”

He stepped out of the car, and shut the door. He watched as Richard pulled away, then he picked up the canvas bag, put it in his trunk, took the remaining load from the shotgun, put the shell in his pocket and the shotgun in the trunk. He closed the lid. Then he walked the two blocks to Robinson’s house and rang the doorbell. There was movement in the house and at the window, then Robinson opened the front door. He was dressed and he carried a baseball bat.

“Everything’s fine,” Burke said.

“How about the shot I heard?”

Burke shook his head.

“Everything’s fine,” he said. “Go to sleep. I’ll pick you up in the morning.”

Burke stared back at Robinson’s dark fierce intelligent gaze for a moment, and waited. But Robinson decided not to say anything else. He closed the door. Burke walked back two blocks to his car and drove home.

They were on their way to a home game with the Reds. Burke was driving.

“They came to my home,” Robinson said. “They know where we live.”

“Just two of them,” Burke said. “One of them is dead and the other one is running away.”

“You’re sure he’s running?”

“He told me that Paglia sent him. When Paglia finds out he’ll have him killed, if he can find him.”

“And this guy knows that,” Jackie said.

“Yes.”

Jackie nodded.

“How’s Paglia going to find out?” he said.

“I’m going to tell him,” Burke said.

“Why?”

“This needs to stop,” Burke said. “I’m going to talk with Paglia.”

“You think you can?”

“Yeah.”

“What are you going to say?”

“I’ll think of something,” Burke said.

Jackie started to speak, and stopped, and looked thoughtfully at Burke.

“We knew it would be tough,” Jackie said. “Me and Rachel, when we signed on. I don’t think we knew it would be this tough.”

“Nobody knew,” Burke said.

“She has to be safe,” Jackie said.

“She’ll be all right,” Burke said. “It’s sort of against the rules to kill wives and children.”

“Rules?”

Burke nodded.

“You think they got in, they wouldn’t have hurt her?” Jackie said.

“They weren’t supposed to.”

“How do you know?”

“I know a lot of thugs,” Burke said.

“And they have rules.”

“Sure. Most people got rules.”

“You?” Jackie said.

“Except me,” Burke said.

Jackie stared at Burke for a moment. It was what Burke had come to think of as the look. Jackie didn’t say anything and Burke wheeled the car into the players’ parking lot. They walked to the clubhouse in silence. When Jackie was inside, Burke went around and in through the rotunda to sit in his place by the dugout.

It was the sixth inning. The Reds led the Dodgers 9–1. Bucky Walters was pitching. Augie Galen had a three-run home run, and Grady Hatton had two doubles. For the Dodgers, Vic Lombardi had given way to Hank Behrman, who had been replaced by Clyde King. Jackie had a single and a stolen base. Burke was drinking Coca-Cola, watching the ever-hopeful Hilda Chester ring her cowbell from the outfield stands. A tall thin man with high shoulders came down the aisle and slid into the seat next to him.

“You want to talk with me?” he said.

“Cash,” Burke said.

“Okay, Burke, you know my name.”

Burke smiled a little.

“And you know mine,” he said.

“I’ve known yours for a long time, remember?”

“And now we’re even,” Burke said.

“Okay, we’re buddies,” Cash said. “What do you want?”

“You’re still with Paglia,” Burke said.

Cash nodded. His eyes were a very light blue. It made his face seem almost artificial.

“And you sent Richard and Chuck to kill Robinson,” Burke said.

Cash made no answer.

“Did you know they tried to break into his house?”

Cash didn’t speak.

“His wife was there.”

Cash shrugged.

“You think they wouldn’t have killed her too?”

Cash shrugged again.

It was the first half of the seventh inning. Frankie Baumholtz singled into right field on the ground between Jackie and Eddie Stanky.

“What makes you think I got anything to do with that?” Cash said.

“Richard told me.”

“And Chuck?”

“Chuck’s dead,” Burke said.

Cash nodded slowly.

“Where’s Richard?” he said.

“Out of town,” Burke said.

“I know why,” Cash said.

Eddie Miller hit into a double play. Cash gestured at a vendor as he came down the aisle toward them.

“You want another Coca-Cola?” Cash said.

“Sure.”

Cash held up two fingers, got the Coca-Colas, handed one to Burke, put the other one on the floor and paid the vendor. Then he picked up his drink and leaned back and put his feet up against the railing in front of him. He looked at the field.

“You think anybody ever hit that Abe Stark sign out there and got a free suit?”

“Only if the right fielder fell down,” Burke said.

Cash drank some of his Coke.

“Damn sign’s three feet off the ground,” Cash said.

Babe Young flied to Pete Reiser in left field, and the teams changed sides. Cash drank again. Then he took a package of Camels from his shirt pocket, offered one to Burke, took one for himself and lit Burke’s and his own with a silver Zippo. He took in a long drag and then spoke as he let the smoke out slowly.

“I didn’t know about the wife,” he said.

Burke sipped his soda.

“Hard to get good help,” Cash said. “Since the war.”

“You in it?” Burke said.

“North Africa,” Cash said. “You?”

“Guadalcanal.”

Gene Hermanski hit for King and singled.

“You ask me to meet you so we could swap war stories?” Cash said.

“We need to work this out,” Burke said. “I don’t want to have to keep shooting people.”

“We got plenty.”

“We need to work this out,” Burke said.

“You got a suggestion?”

“I need a little time,” Burke said.

“So?”

“I want you to give it to me.”

“Talk to Paglia,” Cash said. “I don’t call the shots.”

“I want to talk with Paglia, but not yet,” Burke said. “I need a week or so.”

“I work for Paglia,” Cash said.

“If Paglia wants something done he tells you and you take care of it.”

“Yeah.”

“So he wants to send somebody else after us, he’ll tell you and you stall it for a week,” Burke said.

“Why would I do that?”

“You put the wife in danger.”

“Yeah?”

“You broke the rules,” Burke said.

Cash smiled.

“I thought you didn’t care about anything,” Cash said.