I said nothing.
”And,“ he said, ”don’t start thinking you’re some kind of goddamned vigilante. If you get away with this, don’t get tempted to do it again. Here or anywhere. You understand what I’m saying to you?“
”Yeah. I do.“
”We’ve known each other awhile, Spenser, and maybe we got a certain amount of respect. But we’re not friends. And I’m not a guy you know. I’m a cop.“
”Nothing else?“
”Yeah,“ Quirk said, ”something else. I’m a husband and a father and a cop. But the last one’s the only thing that makes any difference to you.“
”No, not quite. The husband and father makes a difference too. Nobody should be just a job.“
”Okay, we agree. But believe what I tell you. I won’t bite this bullet again.“
”Got it,“ I said.
”Good.“
I stood up, started for the door and stopped, and turned around and said, ”Marty?“
”Yeah?“
”Shake,“ I said.
He put his hand out across his desk, and we did.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
No ONE DROVE me home. It’s a short walk from Berkeley Street to my place, and I liked the walk. It gave me time to think, and I needed time. A lot had happened in a short while, and not all of it was going my way. I hadn’t thought it would, but there’s always hope.
It was afternoon when I got home. I made two lettuce and tomato sandwiches on homemade wheat bread, poured a glass of milk, sat at the counter, and ate and drank the milk and thought about where I was at and where the Rabbs were at and where Bucky Maynard was at. I knew where Doerr and his gunner were at. I had a piece of rhubarb pie for dessert. Put the dishes in the dishwasher, wiped the counter off with a sponge, washed my hands and face, and headed for Church Park.
It was in walking distance and I walked. The wind was still strong, but there was less grit in the air along Marlborough Street, and what little there was rattled harmlessly on my sunglasses. Linda Rabb let me in.
”I heard on the radio that what’s‘isname Doerr and another man were killed,“ she said. She wore a loose sleeveless dress, striped black and white like mattress ticking, and white sandals. Her hair was in two braids, each tied with a small white ribbon, and her face was without makeup.
”Yeah, me too,“ I said. ”Your husband home?“
”No, he’s gone to the park.“
”Your boy?“
”He’s in nursery school.“
”We need to talk,“ I said.
She nodded. ”Would you like coffee or anything?“
”Yeah, coffee would be good.“
”Instant okay?“
”Sure, black.“
I sat in the living room while she made coffee. From the kitchen came the faintly hysterical sounds of daytime television. The set clicked off and Linda Rabb returned, carrying a round black tray with two cups of coffee on it. I took one.
”I’ve talked with Bucky Maynard,“ I said, and sipped the coffee. ”He won’t let go.“
”Even though Doerr is dead?“ Linda Rabb was sitting on an ottoman, her coffee on the floor beside her.
I nodded. ”Now he wants his piece.“
We were quiet. Linda Rabb sipped at her coffee, holding the cup in both hands, letting the steam warm her face. I drank some more of mine. It was too hot still, but I drank it anyway. The sound of my swallow seemed loud to me.
”We both know, don’t we?“ Linda Rabb said.
”I think so,“ I said.
”If I make a public statement about the way I used to be, we’ll be free of Maynard, won’t we?“
”I think so,“ I said. ”He can still allege that Marty threw some games, but that implicates him too and he goes down the tube with you. I don’t think he will. He gets nothing out of it. No money, nothing. And his career is shot as bad as Marty’s.“
She kept her face buried in the coffee cup.
”I can’t think of another way,“ I said.
