Hawk nodded slightly without opening his eyes.
I put my hand on his shoulder for a moment, took it away, and left.
3
I WAS IN my office having a cup of coffee and looking up Ukraine on the Internet. Like most of the things I looked up on the Internet, there was less there than met the eye. But I did learn that Ukraine was a former republic of the Soviet Union, now independent. And that kartoplia was Ukrainian for potato. I knew if I kept at it I could find a Ukrainian porn site. But I was spared by the arrival of Martin Quirk in my office, carrying a paper bag.
'Did you know that kartoplia means potato in Ukrainian?' I said.
'I didn't,' Quirk said. 'And I don't want to.'
I pointed at my Mr. Coffee on top of the file cabinet.
'Fresh made yesterday,' I said. 'Help yourself.'
Quirk poured some coffee.
'You got donuts in the bag?' I said.
'Oatmeal-maple scones,' Quirk said.
'Scones?'
'Yep.'
'No donuts?'
'I'm a captain,' Quirk said. 'Now and then I like to upgrade.'
'How do you upgrade from donuts?' I said.
Quirk put the bag on the desk between us. I shrugged and took a scone.
'Got to keep my strength up,' I said.
Quirk put his feet up on the edge of my desk and munched on his scone and drank some coffee.
'Two days ago,' Quirk said, 'couple of vice cops are working a tavern in Roxbury, having reason to believe it was a distribution point for dope and/or whores.'
The maple-oatmeal scone wasn't bad, for a non-donut. Outside my window, what I could see of the Back Bay had an authentic gray November look with a strong suggestion of rain not yet fallen.
'So the vice guys are sipping a beer,' Quirk said. 'And keeping an eye out, and two white guys come in and head for the back room. There's something hinky about these guys, aside from being the only white men in the room, and one of the vice guys gets up and goes to the men's room, which is right next to the back room.'
Quirk was not here for a chat. He had something to tell me and he'd get to it. I ate some more scone. The oatmeal part was probably very healthy.
'The guy in the men's room hears some sounds that don't sound good, and he comes out and yells to his partner, and in they go to the back room with their badges showing and guns out,' Quirk said. 'The tavern owner's had his throat cut. The two white guys are heading out. One of them makes it, but the vice guys get hold of the other one and keep him.'
'Tavern owner?' I said.
'Dead before they got there; his head was almost off.'
'And the guy you nabbed?'
'Cold,' Quirk said. 'The dumb fuck is still carrying the knife, covered with the vic's blood, on his belt. Big, like a bowie knife, expensive, I guess he didn't want to leave it. And the vic's blood is all over his shirt. ME says they tend to gush when they get cut like that. So we bring him in and we sweat him. He speaks English pretty good. His lawyer's there, and a couple of Suffolk AD's are in with us, and after a while he sees the difficulty of his position. He says if we can make a deal he can give us his partner, and if the deal's good enough he can give us the people shot that family over by Seaver Street.'
I was suddenly aware of my breath going in and out.
'Do tell,' I said.
'I was in there at the time and I said 'family named Gillespie?' He said he didn't know their names but it was over by Seaver Street and it was the end of October. Which is right, of course. And I said, 'How about the rifle man that shot the bodyguard.' And he said, 'No sweat.' '
'He Ukrainian?' I said.
'Says so.'
'What's his name?'
'Bohdan something or other,' Quirk said. 'I got it written down, but I can't pronounce it anyway.'
'Did he give you the others?'
'Yes. His lawyer fought him all the way. But Bohdan isn't going down for this alone, and he does it even though his lawyer's trying to stop him.'
'Think the lawyer was looking out for him?' I said.
'Not him,' Quirk said.
