A woman in tight calf-length pants and a glistening silvery tank top came down the lawn carrying a cocktail.
Martini, Jesse thought.
The woman stopped beside Shaw and stood so that she was touching him.
“What’s going on, Normy?”
She was taller than Shaw, with straight blond hair worn long. Her breasts pushed hard against the silvery tank top, and the pants fit tight over her thighs. Her features were elegantly proportional. And her teeth were even and perfectly white. Everyone had teeth like that in L.A.
Bonded, Jesse thought.
“These… policemen feel that we are entirely lawless,” Shaw said.
He took the martini from her and drank some and handed her back the glass.
“Oh, pooh,” the woman said and smiled at Jesse. “Have a drink. Lighten up.”
“No drinks, ma’am.”
“Oh my,” she said, “so solemn. I’m Joni Shaw.”
She put out her hand to Jesse. She was quick. She had already figured out who was in charge. Jesse didn’t shake hands.
“Jesse Stone,” he said.
She smiled. The smile was very strong. Jesse could feel it.
“And do you really want to ruin our party? It’s Normy’s annual publication party.”
“We don’t want to ruin your party,” Jesse said. “But cars need to be moved. Behavior needs to be modified.”
“Every year when his new novel comes out, we throw this huge bash. Normy’s agent is here. There are film people. Publishing people. Politicians. The Lieutenant Governor is here.”
“Mr. Shaw mentioned the Lieutenant Governor,” Jesse said. “Get on the radio, Arthur. Call the tow company.”
Angstrom slid into his car and started his call.
“We’ll move the cars,” Joni Shaw said.
“And keep people from wandering into the neighbors’ yards?”
“I’ll do my best.”
“I’m going to have your job,” Shaw said.
“Probably not,” Jesse said.
He smiled at Joni Shaw. She smiled back at him.
Chapter Nine
“They moved the cars,” Angstrom said as he came into Jesse’s office. “And she went around and told people to cool it.”
“You leave Perkins there?”
“Him and John,” Angstrom said. “I’m sorry I had to drag you out there.”
“It’s why I get the big bucks, Arthur.”
“My wife wore pants as tight as Mrs. Shaw I wouldn’t let her out in public,” Angstrom said. “How the fuck she get them on?”
“She’s probably a strong-willed woman,” Jesse said.
“What’s casuistry mean?” Arthur said.
“I have no idea,” Jesse said.
Suitcase came into the office with Doc Lane. He was carrying a big evidence bag, which he held up as if he’d caught a record-breaking fish. Doc had a cinder block in each hand, which he set on the floor by Jesse’s desk.
“Doc found it,” Simpson said.
“Rope and shoe?”
“Tied to a couple of cinder blocks,” Doc said.
He was a rangy, weathered guy who fished, and tended bar at night, and did the diving for the police when there was any to do.
“Any gun?”
“None that I could find,” Doc said. “The bottom is muck, Jesse. Gun could be under ten feet of it, if it’s in there at all.”
Jesse looked at the rope. It was the kind that you buy in fifty-foot lengths at lumber yards, about the size of clothesline, but made of nylon. When you cut it, you needed to burn the ends, so the rope wouldn’t unravel.
