”Frank personally?“
”That’s what the snitch says. Says you roughed Frank up yesterday and he took it personally.“ Belson was thin, with tight skin and a dark beard shaved close. ”Marty thought you oughta know.“
We stayed left where the river curved and drove out Soldiers Field Road, past the ‘BZ radio tower.
”I thought Wally Hogg did that kind of work for Doerr.“
”He does,“ Belson said. ”But this one he’s gonna do himself.“
”If he can,“ I said.
”That ain’t to say he might not have Wally around to hold you still,“ Belson said.
Billy U-turned over the safety island and headed back in toward town. He was young and stylish with a thick blond mustache and a haircut that hid his ears. Belson’s sideburns were trimmed at the temple.
”Reliable snitch?“
Belson nodded. ”Always solid in the past.“
”How much you pay him for this stuff?“
”C-note,“ Belson said.
”I’m flattered,“ I said.
Belson shrugged. ”Company money,“ he said.
We were passing Harvard Stadium. ”You or Quirk got any thoughts about what I should do next?“
Belson shook his head.
”How about hiding?“ Billy said. ”Doerr will probably die in the next ten, twenty years.“
”You think he’s that tough?“
Billy shrugged. Belson said, ”It’s not tough so much.
It’s crazy. Doerr’s crazy. Things don’t work out, he wants to kill everybody. I hear he cut one guy up with a machete. I mean, cut him up. Dis-goddamn-membered him. Crazy.“
”You don’t think a dozen roses and a note of apology would do it, huh?“
Billy snorted. Belson didn’t bother. We passed the Kenmore exit.
I said to Billy, ”You know where I live?“
He nodded.
Belson said, ”You got a piece on you?“
”Not when I’m running,“ I said.
”Then don’t run,“ Belson said. ”If I was Doerr, I coulda aced you right there at the curb when we picked you up.“
I remembered my lecture to Lester about professionals. I had no comment. We swung off at Arlington and then right on Marlborough. Billy pulled up in front of my apartment.
”You’re going up a one-way street,“ I said to Billy.
”Geez, I hope there’s no cops around,“ Billy said.
I got out. ”Thanks,“ I said to Belson.
He got out too. ”I’ll walk up to your place with you.“
”With me? Frank, you old softy.“
”Quirk told me to get you inside safe. After that you’re on your own. We don’t run a babysitting service. Not even for you, baby.“
When I unlocked my apartment door, I noticed that Belson unbuttoned his coat. We went in. I looked around. The place was empty. Belson buttoned his coat.
”Watch your ass,“ he said and left.
From my front window I looked down while Belson got in the car and Billy U-turned and drove off. Now I knew what and was getting an idea of how. I took my gun from the bureau drawer and checked the load and brought it with me to the bathroom. I put it on the toilet seat while I took a shower and put it on the bed while I dressed. Then I stuck the holster in my hip pocket and clipped it to my belt. I was wearing broken-in jeans and white sneakers with a racing stripe and my black polo shirt with a beaver on the left breast. I wasn’t up in the alligator bracket yet. I put on a seersucker jacket, my aviator sunglasses, and checked myself in the hall mirror.
Battle dress.
I unlocked the front hall closet and got out a 12-gauge Iver Johnson pump gun and a box of double-aught shells.
Then I went out. In the hall I put the shotgun down and closed a toothpick between the jamb and the hinge side of the door, a couple of inches up from the ground. I snapped it off so only the edge was visible at the crack of the door. It would be good to know if someone had gone in.
I picked up the shotgun and went out to my car. On the way down I passed another tenant. ”Hunting season so early?“ he said.
