“Squeeze his ’nads, so to speak,” she said.
“Wow,” Jesse said. “Moll, you’re really getting the lingo.”
“Makes me proud,” she said.
“You keep being a cop, you may turn into a guy,” Jesse said.
Molly had very big, dark eyes. She looked right at Jesse and batted her eyelashes.
“You think so?” Molly said.
Jesse smiled.
“No, Molly,” he said. “I don’t think so.”
“Me either,” she said.
“But if you’re ever looking for a free and loving human experience . . .” Jesse said.
“I’ll call you first,” Molly said. “What are you going to do about Seth Ralston?”
“I’m going to talk all around him. I’m going to interview everybody in the swingers club. I’m going to interview his colleagues. I’m going to study his academic record. I’m going to read his doctoral dissertation. I’m going to check his driving record.”
“But you’re not going to speak to him,” Molly said.
“Nope.”
“And you’re not going to accuse him of anything,” Molly said.
“Nope.”
“And you’ll be very careful not to say anything to indicate that he’s suspected of anything,”
Molly said.
“Careful,” Jesse said.
“But you’ll buzz around his life like a big green fly,” Molly said. “And drive him crazy.”
“That’s my plan,” Jesse said.
“And the Paradise Free Swingers?”
“Maybe I can find a way to make things work better for the Clark kids.”
She held her coffee cup in both hands in front of her mouth, watching the faint wisp of stream rise from it. Then she sipped some, and put the cup back down on the tabletop.
“That’s diabolical,” Molly said.
Jesse grinned at her.
“There’s more than one way,” he said, “to squeeze a ’nad.”
42
IT WAS Wednesday night. Jesse sat with Suit in Suit’s truck, outside Seth Ralston’s condo.
“So if you want him to know we’re watching him,” Suit said, “how come we don’t use a cruiser?”
“I figure this way,” Jesse said, “we have two chances. He spots you and it inhibits him, and squeezes him a little more. He doesn’t spot you and you may be able to catch him in the act.”
“Of what?” Suit said. “Peeping? I thought he’d moved on to his day job.”
“We don’t know that he’s not night and day,” Jesse said.
“Hell,” Suit said. “We don’t even know it’s him. All we got is that his wife works Wednesday nights.”
“And he’s in a swingers group,” Jesse said. “And he likes to watch.”
“Hell,” Suit said. “Just for the sake of discussion. Wouldn’t that be true of any member of a swingers group?”
“That they like to watch?” Jesse said. “I don’t know.”
“Well,” Suit said, “it sure don’t mean that you like to keep things private.”
“True,” Jesse said. “It doesn’t have to be Seth.”
“On the other hand,” Suit said, “who else we got?”
Jesse smiled and nodded slowly.
“There you have the essence of police work,” he said.
“And there he is,” Suit said.
Seth Ralston came out of the front door of his condo unit. He was wearing black pants and a white T-shirt. He had a Yankees cap on his head, and a dark windbreaker tied around his waist.
“Making a foray?” Suit said.
“Dressed for it,” Jesse said. “Put on the jacket, zip it up, and you’re all in black.”
Ralston walked to the sidewalk and looked back at the truck. He paused. Then he turned and walked toward downtown.
“Drive or walk,” Suit said.
