“Keep running your mouth, douchebag, and we’ll see how funny you are.”
Buddy said, “Be cool, Harold.” To me he said, “We come to take the kid back to his old man. We didn’t know you’d be here, but that don’t change the plan.”
I said, “No.”
“No, we can’t take him back? Or no, it don’t change the plan,” Buddy said.
“No, you can’t take him back,” I said.
Harold pulled a black woven leather sap from his hip pocket and tapped it gently against the palm of his hand.
“I’ll enjoy this,” he said. And I hit him a stiff left jab on his nose, turning my body sideways as I threw the punch to get all of me into it and to make a smaller target. The blood spurted out of Harold’s nose and he staggered three steps backward, flailing his arms for balance. The blackjack bit a table lamp and smashed it Harold got his balance. He held one hand against the blood coming from his nose and shook his head once as if there were a fly in his ear.
Buddy shrugged a little sadly. Harold came back at me and I hit him the same jab, same place, a little harder. It sat him down. Blood was all over his face and shirt.
“Jesus Christ, Buddy,” he said. “Jump in. He can’t take two of us.”
“Yeah, he can,” Buddy said. Harold started to get up. His legs were wobbly. Buddy said, “Leave it alone, Harold. He’ll kill you if you try again.”
Harold was on his feet, trying to keep his nose from bleeding. He still held the blackjack in his right hand, but he didn’t seem to remember that. He looked confused.
I said, “That’s what you brought for muscle, Buddy?”
Buddy shrugged. “He’d have been all right for the broad,” he said. “He does good with barbers and car salesmen that get a little behind on the vig.” Buddy spread his hands.
“How come Mel didn’t come himself?”
“I don’t know no Mel.”
“Come on, Buddy. You want to discuss unlawful entry and assault with the Lexington cops?”
“What are they going to do, beat the shit out of me with a Minuteman?”
“Jail is jail is jail, babe. Don’t matter who put you there. How long since you and Harold summered at Walpole?”
“How about we just walk out of here,” Harold said. His voice was thick. He had a handkerchief wadded against his nose.
I reached around and took my gun out of its hip holster. I showed it to both of them. I smiled.
Buddy said, “So we know Mel. We thought we’d do him a favor. He heard that his old lady had hired some private cop to be a bodyguard. We figured we come get the kid for him. We didn’t know it was you. We figured it would be some stiff that used to be a bank guard. Hell, we didn’t even bring a piece.”
“How you happen to know Mel, Buddy?”
Buddy shrugged again. “Seen him around, you know. Just trying to do him a favor.”
“What did he pay you?”
“A C each.”
“Big league,” I said.
“See you again,” Buddy said. “Come on, Harold. We’re walking.”
Harold looked at the gun. He looked at Buddy. Buddy said, “Come on,” and turned toward the front door. Harold looked at me again. Then he turned after Buddy.
Patty said, “Spenser.”
I shook my head and put the gun away. “Tell Mel that if he keeps sending people down to annoy us I’m going to get mad,” I said. Buddy nodded and went down the three stairs to the front hall. Harold followed him.
“The next people he sends won’t walk out,” I said.
Buddy paused and looked back. “You never were a shooter,” he said. “It’s what’s wrong with you.” Then he went out the front door and Harold went after him. I heard it close behind them.
Patty Giacomin stood where she’d stood throughout “Why did you let them go?” she said.
“We had a deal,” I said. “If they told me what I asked I wouldn’t turn them in.”
“You didn’t say that,” she said.
“Yeah, but Buddy and I both knew it”
“How do you know him? Who are they?”
“I don’t know Harold. Buddy I’ve run into over the years. He works on the docks, and he grifts. He unloads ships when there’s work. When there isn’t, he steals. He’s an errand boy. You want your warehouse burned for insurance, you give Buddy a couple of bucks and he torches it. You want a Mercedes sedan, you pay Buddy and he steals you one. Some grocery clerk owes you money and he won’t pay and Buddy goes over and collects. Nothing heavy. Nothing complicated.”
“He belongs in jail,” Patty said.
