'No.'
We were at the top of section 4. East of us I could see the two big towers in Back Bay, not very far from my office. My quadriceps were beginning to feel shaky, but Susan showed no signs of slowing down, and of course I couldn't stop before she did death before dishonor. We turned and headed back down.
'That's part of it, isn't it?' Susan said.
'That I don't find the investigation stuff boring?'
'Yes. You're simply curious. There's a hidden truth in the case.
You want to find it out.'
I shrugged, which is more awkward than you might think, if you're running down your 1000th stadium step.
'The other part is you can't bear to be told what to do. When Mr. Ventura warned you that you couldn't do A, B, or C, he sealed the deal.'
I shrugged again. I was getting the hang of it.
'I'm in the business of selling brains and balls,' I said.
'And most people value the latter.'
'Lucky for you,' Susan murmured.
I ignored her.
'And it is not good for the business if people perceive me as someone who can be scared off of something.'
We turned and started back up. My quads were beginning to feel as if they were made of lemon Jell-0. Perspiration was soaking through the back of Susan's top. She was the most elegant person I had ever known, and she sweated like a horse.
'It wouldn't matter,' she said. I heard no sound of exhaustion in her voice. Her breath was still even.
'Even if it were good for business you couldn't let someone chase you off.'
Shrugging was even harder going up the stairs. I was concentrating on getting one foot then the other up each step now. I was starting to tie up. I could never understand how the quads could turn to jelly and then knot. At the top of the stairs Susan stopped and rested her forearms on the retaining wall and looked out at the traffic below us on Western Ave.
'I've had it,' she said.
'Time to stop.'
'So soon?' I said.
'Ah, frailty, thy name is woman.'
She didn't say anything, but she looked at me the way she does, out of the corner of her eyes, and I knew she knew the truth. We walked together around the top level of the stadium, as the light began to fade.
'When will you talk to Hawk?' Susan said.
'Henry says he's out of town.'
'So, what's your first move?' Susan said.
'I was thinking of patting you on the backside, and whispering 'Hey, cutie, how about it?'
' 'That's effective,' Susan said.
'I mean the business with the missing husband. What are you going to do first?'
'Deposit Ventura's check,' I said.
'See if it clears.'
'And if it does?'
'Then I'll have to come up with a plan,' I said.
'Besides patting me on the backside.'
'Besides that.'
'But not instead of,' she said.
'No. Never instead of.'
We stood quietly at the top of the old stadium, our forearms resting on the chest-high wall, our shoulders touching lightly, looking out at the declining autumn sun.
'You like that, don't you,' Susan said.
'Walking into something and not knowing what you'll find.'
'I like to see what develops,' I said.
'See what's in there.'
We had been together for twenty years, except for a brief mid-term hiatus. The excitement of being with her had never waned.
