Morris Comden cleared his throat. He was the chief selectman.
“Good morning, Jesse.”
“Morris.”
“You’ve been busy,” Comden said.
Jesse nodded. The other selectmen were new to the office.
Jesse
knew that Comden spoke for them.
“We just thought, Jim and Carter and I, that we probably ought
to get up to speed on things.”
Comden had a sharp face and wore bow ties.
Jesse nodded again. Comden smiled and glanced at the other two selectmen.
“I told you he wasn’t a talker,”
Comden said to the other
selectmen.
Carter Hanson had a dark tan, and silver hair combed straight back and carefully gelled in place. He was the CEO of a software company out on Route 128. He decided to take charge.
He looked straight at Jesse and said, “So what’s going
on?”
“Three people have been killed by the same weapons,” Jesse said.
“We can find no connection among them and we don’t have any idea
who did it.”
“We need more than that,” Hanson said.
“We do,” Jesse said.
“Well, let’s hear it,” Hanson
said.
Comden shook his head slightly and Jim Burns, the third selectman, looked uncomfortable. Jesse looked without expression at Hanson for a long moment.
“There’s nothing to hear,” he
said.
“That’s all you know?” Hanson
said.
“Correct.”
“You don’t have any clues?
Nothing?”
“Correct.”
“Well, Jesus Christ,” Hanson said.
Jesse nodded.
“Well,” Hanson said. “What do we
tell the press.”
“I like no comment,”
Jesse said.
Morris Comden had a yellow legal pad in front of him. He looked
down at it.
“Your department is costing a lot of overtime,” he
said.
Jesse nodded.
“Perhaps you could allocate your personnel a little better,”
Comden said.
He spoke more carefully than Hanson.
Jesse didn’t say anything. Burns spoke for the first time.
“Jesus, don’t you talk?” he said.
“Only when I have something to say.”
