of time.”
“Because the consequences of your actions will prove if you were right,” Jackie said.
“Ya,” I said.
Hawk nodded. He smiled happily.
“Is it intuition?” Jackie said.
“No, it’s the sort of automatic compilation of data without thinking about it, and comparing it with other data previously recorded,” I said. “Most of it sort of volition-less.”
“The thing with these kids,” Hawk said, “they want to see what I do, or Major does, and he seems to be the one calls the plays, because they want to know who we are and what we’re like.”
“Because of you,” Jackie said.
“Un huh. And if they can get us to chase around after them for a misdemeanor like setting trash fires we going to look like fools. What do we do about it? Do we shoot them? For torching trash barrels? Do we slap them around? How do we know who did it?”
“So you let them get away with it?”
“Sure,” Hawk said. “We ignore it. We’re above it.”
“You know those junior high school principals,” I said, “who suspend students for stuff like wearing Bart Simpson T-shirts?”
“Yes,” Jackie said. “They make themselves look like jerks.”
I nodded. Hawk nodded. Jackie smiled. And she nodded.
“I get it,” she said. “Why didn’t you say that in the first place?”
Hawk and I were both silent for a moment. “We didn’t know it,” Hawk said, “in the first place.”
CHAPTER 21
Jackie and Hawk and I were savoring some chicken fajita subs that Hawk had bought us on Huntington Ave., when Marge Eagen rolled up in a NewsCenter 3 van with her driver, her secretary, a soundwoman, and a cameraman. Two Housing Authority cops parked their car behind the van. A car from the Boston Housing Authority with three civilians in it parked behind the cops.
“Marge always likes to make a site visit,” Jackie said to us. “She’s very thorough.”
“Inconspicuous, too,” I said.
The Housing Authority cops got out and looked around. The civilians got out and grouped near the van. The driver got out and opened the van doors. The secretary got out of the back. The cameraman and the soundwoman got out of the front. And then Marge Eagen stepped out into the sunlight. The civilians stood a little straighter. The cops looked at her. One of them said something under his breath to the other one. They both looked like they wanted to laugh, but knew they shouldn’t. Marge stopped with one foot on the ground and one foot still in the van. A lot of her leg showed. The cameraman took her picture.
“Good leg,” I said to Hawk.
“From here,” Hawk said.
“Her legs are very good,” Jackie said. “And she wants the world to know it. Don’t you ever watch?”
“No,” I said.
Hawk shook his head.
“It’s the trademark opening shot every day. Low shot, her with a hand mike, sitting on a high stool, key lit, legs crossed. Tight skirt.”
The cameraman finished. Marge Eagen finished stepping from the van and strode across toward us. Everyone in Boston knew her. She was a television fixture. Blonde hair, wide mouth, straight nose, and an on-camera persona that resonated with compassion. I had never actually watched her show, but she was legendarily intense and caring and issue-oriented. Jackie got out of the car. Hawk and I didn’t.
“Jackie,” she said. “How bleak.”
Her voice had a soft husky quality that made you think of perfume and silk lingerie. At least it made me think of that, but Susan had once suggested that almost everything did.
“Her voice make you think of perfume and silk lingerie?” I said to Hawk.
He shook his head. “Money,” he said.
“Everything makes you think of that,” I said.
“Are these the two centurions?” Marge Eagen said. She bent forward and looked in the car at us. She had on a black silk raincoat open over a lowcut ruffled blouse that looked like a man’s tuxedo shirt. While she was bent over looking in at us, I could see that she was also wearing a white bra with lace trim, probably a C cup.
Jackie introduced us.
“Step out,” Marge said, “so we can get a picture of you.”
“No picture,” Hawk said.
“Oh come on, Hawk,” Marge said. “We need it for interior promo. This is going to be the biggest series ever done on local.”
Hawk shook his head. Marge pretended not to see him. With a big smile she opened the car door.
