She said it as if it were a sin, and I found myself wondering where they grew people like her, and if there was a seed, and how I could get my hands on it if I ever had a daughter.
“Have you ever been late on a payment before?”
She shook her head. “Never.”
“How long have you been insured there?”
“Since I graduated college. Seven years.”
“Where’s Cody Falk live?”
She patted her eyes with the heels of her hands to make sure the tears were dry. She wore no makeup, so nothing had run. She was as blandly beautiful as any woman in a Noxzema ad.
“I don’t know. But he’s at the gym every night at seven.”
“What gym?”
“The Mount Auburn Club in Watertown.” She bit down on her lower lip, then tried for that Ivory Snow smile of hers. “I feel so ridiculous.”
“Miss Nichols,” I said, “you’re not supposed to deal with people like Cody Falk. Do you understand that? No one is. He’s just a bad person and you didn’t do anything to cause this. He did.”
“Yeah?” She managed to get a full smile out, but fear and confusion still swam in her eyes.
“Yeah. He’s the bad guy. He likes making people afraid.”
“He does.” She nodded. “You see it in his eyes. The more uncomfortable he made me feel in the parking lot one night, the more he seemed to enjoy it.”
Bubba chuckled. “You wanna talk uncomfortable? Just wait till we visit Cody.”
Karen Nichols looked at Bubba and for just a moment she seemed to pity Cody Falk.
In my office, I placed a call to my attorney, Cheswick Hartman.
Karen Nichols had driven off in her boyfriend’s VW. I’d instructed her to drive straight to her insurance company and drop off a replacement check. When she said they wouldn’t honor the claim, I assured her they would by the time she got there. She wondered aloud if she could pay my fee and I told her if she could afford one day, she’d be fine, because that’s all this would take.
“One day?”
“One day,” I said.
“But what about Cody?”
“You’ll never hear from Cody again.” I closed her car door, and she drove off, giving me a little wave as she reached the first traffic light.
“Look up ‘cute’ in the dictionary,” I said to Bubba as we sat in my office. “See if Karen Nichols’s picture is beside the definition.”
Bubba looked at the small stack of books on my windowsill. “How do I tell which one’s the dictionary?”
Cheswick came on the line and I told him about Karen Nichols’s trouble with her insurance claim.
“No missed payments?”
“Never.”
“No problem. You said it’s a Corolla?”
“Uh-huh.”
“What’s that, a twenty-five-thousand-dollar car?”
“More like fourteen.”
Cheswick chuckled. “Cars really go that cheap?” Cheswick owned a Bentley, a Mercedes V10, and two Range Rovers that I knew of. When he wanted to be one with the common folk, he drove a Lexus.
“They’ll pay the claim,” he said.
“They said they wouldn’t,” I said, just to get a rise out of him.
“And go up against me? I hang up the phone without satisfaction, they’ll know they’re already fifty thousand in the hole. They’ll pay,” he repeated.
When I hung up, Bubba said, “What’d he say?”
“He said they’ll pay.”
He nodded. “So will Cody, dude. So will Cody.”
Bubba went back to his warehouse for a while to clear up some business, and I called Devin Amronklin, a homicide cop who’s one of the few cops left in this city who will talk to me anymore.
“Homicide.”
“Say it like you mean it, baby.”
“Hey-hey. If it ain’t numero uno persona non grata with the Boston Police Department. Been pulled over recently?”
“Nope.”
“Don’t. You’d be amazed what some guys here want to find in your trunk.”
I closed my eyes for a moment. Being at the top of the police department’s shit list was not where I’d planned to be at this point in my life.
“You can’t be too popular,” I said. “You’re the one who put the cuffs on a fellow cop.”
“Nobody’s ever liked me,” Devin said, “but most of them are scared of me, so that’s just as good. You, on the other hand, are a renowned cream puff.”
“Renowned, huh?”
“What’s up?”
“I need a check on a Cody Falk. Priors, anything to do with stalking.”
“And I get what for this?”
“Permanent friendship?”
“One of my nieces,” he said, “wants the entire Beanie Babies collection for her birthday.”
“And you don’t want to go into a toy store.”
“And I’m still paying serious child support for a kid who won’t talk to me.”
“So you want me to purchase said Beanie Babies, as well.”
“Ten should do.”
“Ten?” I said. “You’ve gotta be-”
“Falk with an ‘F’?”
“As in flimflam,” I said and hung up.
Devin called back in an hour and told me to bring the Beanie Babies by his apartment the next night.
“Cody Falk, age thirty-three. No convictions.”
“However…”
“However,” Devin said, “arrested once for violating a restraining order against one Bronwyn Blythe. Charges dropped. Arrested for assault of Sara Little. Charges dropped when Miss Little refused to testify and moved out of state. Named as a suspect in the rape of one Anne Bernstein, brought in for questioning. Charges never filed because Miss Bernstein refused to swear out a complaint, submit to a rape examination, or identify her attacker.”
“Nice guy,” I said.
“Sounds like a peach, yeah.”
“That’s it?”
“Except that he has a juvenile record, but it’s been sealed.”
“Of course.”
“He bothering somebody again?”
“Maybe,” I said carefully.
“Wear gloves,” Devin said and hung up.
2
