Ives nodded.
“Just Jerry Costigan?” I said.
“Cut off the head and the snake dies,” Ives said.
“How about Russell?” I said.
Ives shrugged. “If Russell takes over his father’s business the world can rest easier,” he said. “Russell will have all the gears jammed in six months. On the other hand; my information is that you might have your own reasons to want to drop the hammer on him. If you do we don’t object.”
“And the charges?” Quirk said.
“The charges will quite simply be deep-sixed,” Ives said. “It’s a fabric we know how to weave.”
Quirk said, “You are probably going to have to kill him anyway.”
I nodded.
“He’s got a contract out on both of you,” Quirk said.
“Figures.”
It was late morning by now. The diner was starting to fill with people for lunch. The waitress glared at us as she passed, but she was too busy now to stop and stare at the check.
I looked at Hawk.
Hawk said to Ives, “I don’t give a fuck about the emerging nations, or the needs of my government. I don’t give a fuck whether Jerry Costigan dies or he doesn’t or gets rich or pays his back taxes. I am interested in getting Susan Silverman away from him and his kid. You help with that and I’m happy to put the state of California away for you, if you want.”
Quirk said, “What happened to the superfly accent?”
Hawk grinned. “Sometimes ah forgets.”
Ives looked at me. “You agree with friend?”
“He said it very well.”
“We help you cher cher your la femme, and you dispense Costigan.”
“Yes,” I said.
“And you fix the arrest warrants,” Quirk said.
McKinnon said, “Whose fucking side you on in this, Marty?”
“It’s a fabric they know how to weave,” Quirk said.
“No problem with the charges,” Ives said. “What will you need to find the girl.”
“Woman,” I said. “She’s a grown woman.”
Ives laughed briefly and shook his head quickly. “Whatever. What do you see us doing for you?”
“Guns,” I said. “Money, access to my apartment. Intelligence.”
“What kind of intelligence,” Ives said.
“Whatever you have. Addresses, locations, phone numbers, habits, acquaintances, favorite color. Everything you have.”
“Most of that is a walk in the spring rain,” Ives said.
“We will need a place,” I said. “In case Susan tries to reach me. We need a place to stay with a phone where Paul can reach me.”
“You think she might escape on her own?” Ives said.
“I’m not sure she’s exactly a captive,” I said.
“Well, what the hell is she,” Ives said.
“We’ll see,” I said.
“She walks out of the woods on her own,” Ives said, “you’ve still got the murder raps and all that other garnish.”
“We say we’ll do it, we’ll do it,” I said. Ives looked at Quirk. Quirk nodded.
“Roger,” Ives said. “We’ll set you up with a safe house, a phone, currency and weapons. It’ll take a day or so. Once we’ve set it up, I can have some people come by and brief you. Meanwhile, where can I reach you?”
“Quirk will know,” I said.
Ives was silent for a moment, then he shrugged. “Right,” he said. “I need you I’ll give Lieutenant Quirk a jingle.” He reached inside his coat and came out with a business card. “You need me, call me.” The card said simply Elliot Ives, and a Cambridge phone number. I put it in my wallet.
Ives picked up the check, looked at it, put four ones down on top of it, and took a small notebook out of his coat pocket. He entered the amount in his notebook.
“We’ll be in touch before the weekend,” Ives said. “I think we’re going to be very happy together.” He stood up and put the notebook in his coat pocket. “But remember one thing. I am not your wife. Don’t try to fuck me.”
