“But she did.”
Rita smiled.
“And you want her to suffer some consequence,” she said.
“I do.”
“That would be you,” Rita said. “If it’s any consolation, Betsy Ingersoll is probably pretty embarrassed and wishes it hadn’t happened.”
“You know her?”
“Not really,” Rita said. “She attends a few of the hideous social events the firm occasionally runs, to prove how warm and fuzzy we are. She doesn’t get to say much.”
“Because Jay does most of the talking?”
“Nearly all,” Rita said.
“Okay,” Jesse said. “So tell me about her husband.”
“He was a hell of a lawyer,” Rita said.
“Was?”
“He probably still is,” Rita said. “But he doesn’t do much law anymore. Now he mostly manages the firm.”
“And the firm does well,” Jesse said.
“Very,” Rita said.
“He love his wife?” Jesse said.
“I don’t know.”
“Say he does,” Jesse said. “What else does he care about?”
“The firm.”
“Anything else? Kids?”
“No kids,” Rita said.
Rita finished her mojito. The bartender stepped promptly over.
“Another one, Ms. Fiore?” he said.
“Yes.”
“You, sir?” the bartender said. “Another beer?”
Jesse hesitated.
“Drink scotch, Jesse,” Rita said. “You look miserable.”
“Dewar’s and soda,” Jesse said to the bartender.
“Yes, sir.”
Rita said, “Have you met Jay?”
“He came by and leaned on me a little bit,” Jesse said.
“There are a lot of successful men like him,” Rita said. “After a while he starts to think that he can do whatever he decides to do and who’s to say nay.”
“You like him?” Jesse said.
“I admire him,” Rita said.
“Would you want to be married to him?” Jesse said.
“Oh, God, no,” Rita said.
“Because?”
“He’s totally self-absorbed, like so many of them.”
“He appears to be protecting his wife,” Jesse said.
“He’s protecting his reputation,” Rita said. “He doesn’t want to be seen as the husband of a dope.”
Jesse nodded.
“Why are you so interested?” Rita said. “You going to take him on?”
“Just gathering information,” Jesse said. “It’s always better to know stuff.”
“Well, he’s got a lot of chits that he can call in,” Rita said.
“I figured,” Jesse said.
“And he’ll call them if he needs to,” Rita said. “Don’t think he’s just another empty suit.”
“I won’t,” Jesse said.
“On the other hand,” Rita said, “neither are you.”
19
EVERYONE IN town seemed to be interested in, or amused by, or frightened about, the Peeping Tom at large. They knew about him. They didn’t know his name. But they knew what he did. The Night Hawk was scared . . . and
