women looked over and whispered to her husband and they stared over.
Then the other two stared. One of the men nodded. The other man said something and all four of them laughed. One of the women slapped her husband’s hand as she laughed.
Jill twirled her wineglass,a little.
“Well,” she said finally, “I guess I know where I stand.”
I saw something change in Susan’s face. “Jill,” she said, “this whole conversation inane.”
“Excuse me?” Jill said.
“You’re not worrying about who he’ll protect. You’re mad because you thought you’d have him to yourself today and instead, I showed up and spoiled it.
”Well, thank you, Dr. Ruth,“ Jill said.
”From your point of view I’m an intruder,“ Susan said. ”I understand that. But that’s because you have personalized the relationship. If you see it as a professional endeavor, in which he protects you because he’s hired to, then the sense of intrusion goes away.“
Jill stared at her for a moment. She drank some of her wine. Then she said, ”Fuck you.“
Susan nodded thoughtfully.
”Interesting point,“ she said. ”Let me put this another way. Since Spenser was hired to protect you, you have been trying every way you can to climb into his lap, and I came along today so that if you tried it again I could kick your fat little butt out into Park Square.“
Jill’s eyes widened. ”Fat?“ she said.
”Fat,“ Susan said, ”and, if I may say so, gone south a little.“
Jill began to breathe faster, her eyes still very wide. Tears formed and began to roll down her face. ”You are through,“ she said. ”Both of you are not going to work on my goddamned show again.“
”Curses,“ I said.
”Take me home,“ Jill said. ”Now.“
It was a strained and sullen trip back to the Charles Hotel. Jill sat in the back in haughty silence and smoked cigarettes which she lit herself, in a kind of self-imposed martyrdom. She got out when we got there and stalked into the hotel without a word. I drifted along behind her to make sure security was alert. They were. A guy picked her up in the lobby and went up with her in the elevator.
Back in the car I looked at Susan.
”I knew you’d get her to see it our way,“ I said.
”I shouldn’t have lost my temper at her. But…“ Susan shrugged.
”Hard not to,“ I said.
”And that damned coquettish Czarina act that she does with you…“
I nodded. We were cruising along Memorial Drive, heading into town, with the river on our right.
”What would you like to do now?“ I said.
”Let’s go to your place. You make a fire. I’ll make a lunch. We’ll open a bottle of wine and see what transpires.“
”I’m pretty sure I know what will transpire,“ I said.
”No fair,“ Susan said. ”You’re a trained detective.“
I nodded and turned right onto the Western Avenue Bridge.
”I don’t think her fanny is fat,“ I said.
Susan smiled, the way she does when her face lights up and her eyes get brighter, and you know just what she looked like when she was sixteen. ”All’s fair in love and war,“ she said.
Chapter 13
I PICKED Jill up Monday morning and took her to the I studio as if I hadn’t been fired. She made no mention of Saturday. It had begun to snow late Sunday night and there was about three inches of soft feathery snow accumulated with no sign of slowing. I had the Cherokee in four-wheel drive and drove with the arrogance that only a man in a four-wheel-drive vehicle can feel. The California guys at the studio were all bundled up like Admiral Byrd as they stumbled around the studio parking lot.
The drivers were gathered in fur-trimmed parkas, holding coffee in thick-gloved hands and kibitzing in the cafeteria downstairs. I followed Jill to the wardrobe office. The door was ajar, and we went in. There was no one there.
”Kathleen?“ Jill called. ”Ernie?“
The lights were on. The clothing for costuming hung in neat order on pipe racks, filling most of the room. There was a counter to one side and an open space with tnirrors, a cutting table, and an ironing hoard. On the counter was a glass jar of hard candies. I took a red one, hoping for cherry. It was raspberry. Even for the discerning palate, however, in hard candies the difference was but slight.
Jill said, ”Spenser.“
I turned and saw what she saw. Behind the counter, facedown on the floor, was a woman’s body. The white blouse she was wearing was darkly blotched with dried blood.
