I took the thirty-two out and laid it, pointing downrange, on the table beside her. We put on the earmuffs.
Costa said, '
'Cause Spenser and I go way back, I'm going to give you a little head start.'
He took out his own gun, a nickel-plated .38 with a black rubber grip, settled into a two-hand shooting crouch, and put six shots inside the 10 circle. He and Susan walked down to look at the target.
'Why, I seem to be within ten points of qualifying already,' she said.
Her smile was full of innocent amazement. Costa reloaded his gun.
'Here,' he said, 'use this one. It's all sighted in.' It also shot the same size rounds as the bullet holes in the target. Susan caught on at once.
'Sure,' she said. She picked up the gun, held it carefully in both hands, stood as I'd taught her to, cocked the gun with her right thumb, fired carefully, six shots, single action, and put all six inside the 7 circle. Then she put the thirty-eight back down on the shooter's table and waited while Costa went down to get the target.
'You forgot to yell, 'Freeze, dirt bag.'
' I said.
'Couldn't I say something else, like 'It's all right, I'm a doctor'?' she said.
I shook my. head in disgust. 'Don't you watch television?' I said.
Costa came back with the target and said, 'That's good shooting, Susan.
You've qualified, no problem. Want to fire a few rounds just to get the feel of your weapon?'
Susan said, 'No, thank you.'
Costa turned to me. 'Six rounds each?' he said. 'For a case of beer?'
'Double action,' I said. 'Ten seconds to get all the shots off.'
'Sure,' Costa said, and picked up his gun, reloaded, and put six rounds into the new target in eight seconds. He dumped the brass, reloaded, put the gun on his hip, and went down to collect his target and hang a new one. I took my place, got out the Python, and when Costa said 'Go.'
I fired six rounds in seven seconds.
We both had all our shots in the kill zone, but Costa had four bull's-eyes and I had two.
'Budweiser,' Costa said.
'Budweiser?'
'That's right,' Costa said. 'I drive a Chevy too.'
'The heartbeat of America,' I said. 'I'll drop it off tomorrow.'
As we left, Costa said, 'Nice shooting, Susan. We'll expedite that permit; should have it by the time the beer arrives.'
Walking to the car, Susan said, 'I thought you were a good shot.'
'I am a good shot,' I said, 'but Costa shoots every day.'
Susan nodded. 'I could have qualified without help, but I didn't want to take away his nice gesture.'
'You always get it,' I said.
'Now, let's go and get a cup of coffee and some cheesecake and decide what we think about the Red Rose business.'
We drove over to Chelsea to sit at a Formica table in the Washington Deli. I had some cherry cheesecake and, in utter abandon, a cup of fresh-brewed coffee. Susan had decaff and plain cheesecake. I took a bite of mine and swallowed it, followed by a small sip of coffee, black.
'Ah, wilderness,' I said.
'Isn't that supposed to involve a loaf of bread and a jug of wine?'
'And thou, sweets, don't forget thou.'
She had a small bite of cheesecake, edging a narrow sliver off one corner of the wedge with her fork.
'The Red Rose killer should not be in therapy,' Susan said. 'The killings should be the relief he needs from pressure.'
'I know,' I said.
'You said that. But that was before some guy went to a lot of trouble to put a red rose in your front hall.'
'It doesn't mean one of my patients is the killer,' Susan said.
'It means something,' I said. 'And it means something worrisome.'
'Yes,' Susan said. 'I agree with that.'
'The guy that left it either is or is not one of your patients,' I said.
'Let's assume he is. Assuming he isn't asks for several more farfetched hypotheses than the assumption that he is.'
'I don't like to think it.'
