'Catsup?' she said.
'No, thank you very much,' Macklin said.
The gull fixed its opaque stare on the clams. Macklin un wrapped his flatware and tucked the napkin in under his chin. He picked up the knife and made a fencer's pose at the gull.
'One move at the clams, bird, and you die,' Macklin said.
Faye picked up a clam with her fingers, dabbed it in the tartar sauce, and popped it in her mouth. She wiped her fingertips carefully with her napkin while she chewed her clam.
When she swallowed it, she said, 'So what is your plan?'
'Well,' Macklin said, 'I thought I might give Mrs. Campbell a ringy dingy...'
'Like hell,' Faye said.
'Looking is one thing. You're a man, and you can't help it. But you start following up, and I will cut off your balls.'
'Faye, would I cheat on you?'
'Like I say, you're a man.'
'Cynical,' Macklin said.
'Experienced,' Faye said.
'Besides, you know what I meant.
What is your plan for doing business on the island?'
'Well I'm going to get a good map,' Macklin said.
'And I'm going to start putting together a crew.'
'What are we going to do for money in the meantime?'
'I'll get some,' Macklin said.
'I hope so. You got people in mind for this crew?'
'Yeah. It's one of the best things about going to jail a few times,' Macklin said.
'You get a chance to network.'
'You going to hit the bank?'
'Sweet cakes,' Macklin said, 'I'm going to hit the whole island.'
SEVEN.
As he had taken to doing when his day ended at five, Jesse stopped by the bar at the Gray Gull. He would have two drinks, talk with the bartender or a few of the reglulars, and then go home for supper. It iworked better than having a drink at 'home. It was sociable, and it was easier to stop after two in public. Being chief of police carried with it certain obligations, and | Jesse was pretty sure that not getting pink in public was one of them.
'Black label and soda, Doc,' Jesse said to the bartender. He made a measuring gesture with his hands.
'Tall glass.'
The bartender made the drink and set it before Jesse and went down to the service corner of the bar to get a waitress order. He mixed up two pink drinks, one of them up, the other on the rocks, and set them out with the slip tucked between the glasses. Then he came back down the bar to talk with Jesse.
'You been fighting crime all day?' Doc said.
'Serve and protect,' Jesse said.
'What are those pink things?'
'Cosmopolitans,' Doc said.
'Sort of a summer martini.'
'They look tasty,' Jesse said.
'They're pretty good,' Doc said.
'You want to try one? On me?'
The young waitress came and put the two drinks on a tray and went out onto the deck with them. Jesse noticed that her cutoff jeans were snug. 'No thanks, Doc. Scotch is fine.'
Jesse nursed his drink. The bar was only half full. It was mid-week, and the after-work crowd hadn't drifted in yet in force. Jesse liked quiet bars. He liked them best in the middle of the afternoon, air-conditioned and nearly empty, where everything was desultory and you could play old Carl Perkins stuff on the juke box and watch people as they came in out of the outside brightness and paused for their eyes to adjust. He liked the lucent way the bottles looked, arranged along the back of a good bar with the mirror reflecting the light from behind them. It was a little too late to be perfect, but it was still a good place to be. For two drinks.
In the bar mirror, he saw Abby Taylor come into the bar with a tall man in a seersucker suit. Jesse smiled. Only here, Jesse thought. Until a year ago, he'd never seen a seersucker suit. They got a table behind him and sat. Abby saw him then and said something to the man and got up and walked over. She was wearing an olive suit with a short skirt.
'Jesse,' she said.
