color at the seawall, and what seemed to be the body of a young woman appeared above the seawall and fell forward onto the causeway. Jesse put the car in gear and headed toward the scene. In front of him the two Lincolns spun sideways in the road and men with guns were out of both cars, shooting. Jesse turned on his lights and siren. Steve and Bobby behind him did the same, and from the Neck end of the causeway came Eddie Cox and John Maguire and Peter Perkins with the lights flashing and the sirens wailing.
In Jesse’s earphone Corporal Jenks said, “Jesse, you need us?”
“Block the causeway by the beach,” Jesse said. “And hold there. Nobody on or off.”
“Roger.”
Jesse got to the shoot-out first. The patrol cars from both ends of the causeway arrived right after he did at the shooting scene and swerved sideways to block the causeway. Jesse got out of his car, shielded by the open door. He had a shotgun. Most of the shooting stopped when the police arrived. Except the man with the street sweeper. From the van, the street sweeper kept firing toward the seawall. A tall, straight-backed man with salt-and-pepper hair walked from behind the lead Lincoln to the Quest, as if he was taking a walk in the rain. He fired through the open side door of the Quest with a handgun. After a moment a shotgun with a big round drum came rattling out onto the street. Behind it came the shooter, who fell beside the gun onto the street and didn’t move. The Paradise police ranged on both sides of the shoot-out, standing with shotguns, behind the cars. At the mainland end of the causeway, State Police cars blocked the road.
“Police,” Jesse said. “Everybody freeze.”
The tall, straight man looked at the scene, and without expression dropped his handgun. The other men followed his lead. Jesse walked to the tall man.
“You Romero?” Jesse said.
“Yeah.”
“I’m Jesse Stone.”
“I know who you are,” Romero said.
“You know him?” Jesse said, looking down at the dead man in the street.
“Esteban Carty,” Romero said to Jesse.
“No loss,” Jesse said. “You are all under arrest. Please place your hands on top of the car nearest you and back away with your legs spread.” Jesse smiled slightly. “I bet most of you know how it’s done.”
Louis Francisco got out of his car and walked unarmed to the motionless Amber dummy in the street. He knelt down in the rain and looked at it and turned it over. He looked at it for a while, then he stood and looked over the seawall, and finally turned and looked at Jesse. His face showed nothing.
“I wish to speak with my attorney,” he said without inflection.
Jesse nodded. Everyone was quiet. The only sounds were the movement of the ocean, and the sound of the rain falling, under the low, gray sky.
There is no quiet quite like the one that follows gunfire.
72.
Jesse sat with Healy, late at night, in his office, with a bottle of scotch and some ice.
“Quest was stolen,” Jesse said.
“’Course it was,” Healy said.
“We don’t have much on Francisco,” Jesse said. “He didn’t even have a gun.”
