“What’s in the gym bag?” Hawk said.
I fished into it, on the seat beside me, and came out with a modified shotgun. No shoulder stock, and the barrels sawed off even with the remains of the stock.
“Inscrutable,” Hawk said.
CHAPTER 43
I DROVE BAREFOOTED ALONG STORROW DRIVE TO Soldiers Field Road. I parked in a parking area opposite the Ground Round, not far from Channel 4. Then I turned and rested my right arm on the seat back and smiled at the Oriental man.
“What’s your name,” I said.
“Loo,” he said. “Richie Loo.”
“Chinese?”
“Yes.”
“Where you from?”
“I’m from here,” Richie said. “The two coolies were from Taiwan.”
“Maybe they still are,” I said.
Richie shrugged. “You gut shot one of them,” he said.
I nodded.
We were silent. Bicycles wont past along the river. Across the way on the Cambridge side there were joggers. A white cabin cruiser with mahogany trim moved up the river. I looked at Richie Loo. He nodded slightly, as if he’d been in conversation.
“I don’t know nothing about you,” he said. “I work for a guy here who works for a guy in Hong Kong who owes a favor. The Hong Kong guy sent the two goons over and I met them. They don’t speak English. We’re supposed to kill you. I’m supposed to guide and interpret and be backup, but they’re supposed to do it.”
“Who you work for,” I said.
Richie Loo shook his head. “Won’t do you any good. You want to know who wants you killed. Connection’s too complicated. Guy I work for don’t even know.”
“I know who wanted it done,” I said. “I want to know where he is.”
“Same answer,” Richie said. “Won’t do you no good.”
“Tell me who you work for,” I said. “It’s a start.”
Richie shook his head. “Can’t do that. I tell you stuff, I’m dead. Maybe you’ll kill me if I don’t. But they’ll kill me if I do, and they’ll do it slower.”
More silence. The traffic hum was steady behind us on Soldiers Field Road. Back toward the bend in the river, two kids were playing Frisbee with a golden retriever, the dog tearing off after the disk and sometimes catching it in the air.
“Get out,” I said.
Richie Loo got out of the car. “Close the door,” I said.
He did. I put the car in gear and backed out and drove away.
CHAPTER 44
WE WERE IN TWO CONNECTING ROOMS IN THE Holiday Inn on Blossom Street, back of Mass General Hospital. Belson was sitting in an armchair with his feet up on the bed watching a Popeye cartoon when Susan let us in. She raised her eyebrows at our half-naked wetness.
“What did they say at the desk,” she said.
“Came straight up,” I said. “Quirk gave us the room number.”
Rachel Wallace came out of the adjoining bedroom.
“Did you learn anything?” she said.
“Don’t swim in Boston Harbor,” I said.
“Was it a trap?” Susan said.
“Yes.”
“And you’re all right?”
“Yes.”
“We packed,” Susan said. “For all of us.”
“You suggesting I change?”
“And shower,” Susan said. “You smell like a fish.”
Hawk took our two handguns and the sawed-off from the gym bag. Popeye sent Bluto spinning into outer space, and Belson looked over.
“Do I see an illegally modified weapon,” he said.
