'Mr. and Mrs.?'
'Yep.'
'Right over there, sir. Please park in the designated space.'
'Thank you.'
As they drove through the gate, the guard copied down the license plate number. Past the guard shack, to the right, was a small building done in weathered shingles with colonial blue shutters. A discreet sign beside the door said STILES ISLAND REALTY in gold letters on a dark blue background. A Lexus sedan was parked next to the building, and two spaces beside it were marked VISITORS.
'Stiles Island is too classy to have customers,' Macklin said.
'What are our first names?' Faye said.
'I'll be Harry,' Macklin said.
'You got a favorite?'
'How about one of those really jerky names that WASP women have, like Muffy or Choo Choo?'
'Jesus ' Macklin said, 'I can't go around calling you fucking Muffy.'
'Rocky?' Faye said.
'Rocky?' Macklin said.
Faye nodded. Macklin nodded and put out his clenched fist.
Faye tapped it lightly with hers.
'Way to go, Rocky,' he said.
They got out of the car.
'Where we from?' Faye said.
'I'll think of someplace,' Macklin said.
'You know how I hate to plan stuff.'
The real estate office was furnished with colonial furniture and nautical prints. Mrs. Campbell was a tall woman with platinum hair, a lot of makeup, and a good figure. She was a little long in the tooth, Macklin thought, but she'd probably be a pretty good lay.
'I'm Harry Smith,' Macklin said.
'My wife, Rocky.'
'Where you folks from?' Mrs. Campbell said.
She was wearing a blue pantsuit and a white man-tailored shirt, open at the throat.
'Concord,' Macklin said.
'And you're interested in property on Stiles Island?'
'Yes, ma'am,' Macklin said.
'Well, we have a couple of homes for sale, and of course, we can arrange for you to build if you wish.'
'What do you think, hon?' Macklin said.
'I think the first thing we should do is tour the island,' Faye said.
'We're not just purchasing a piece of property, you know. We are buying into a community.'
'Good point,' Mrs. Campbell said.
'Why don't I drive you around and acquaint you with the place, and we can talk as we go.
Will you be financing this purchase yourself?'
'It'll be cash,' Macklin said.
'And are you more interested in building or buying something already built?'
'We're open on that,' Faye said.
'Aren't we, Harry?'
'Sure are, Rocky.'
Mrs. Campbell went around her desk to get her purse. Macklin noticed that the pantsuit fit snugly over her butt. And there was something in the way she walked. Fucks like a weasel, Macklin thought. He didn't know exactly how he knew that. Maybe the way she stood or the way she walked or the sense of how conscious she was of her body. Maybe it was magic. But he was rarely wrong about such things. He filed the information.
FIVE.
The two men who owned the home on Geary Street sat together in Jesse's office.
One was a tall slim man with a shaved head and a dark tan. He wore gold rimmed aviator sunglasses. His companion was stockier, with a blond crew cut and a clipped moustache. Both men were older than Jesse. Forty- two, forty-three, Jesse speculated. The taller man's name was Alex Canton.
