Quirk nodded. Grimes’s nose appeared to have stopped bleeding. But he continued to sit on the floor with his head in his hands.
“The thing is, we don’t know what the fuck is going on.”
“Tell me what you can,” Quirk said. His voice was quiet.
Grimes’s pale blond hair was thinning on top. With his head down, it showed the care with which he had combed his hair to hide that fact. The interchange with me had badly disarranged it, and, stiff with hair spray, the hair stood at random angles.
“We were told to come down here and try to get what he had found out about Olivia Nelson,” O’Dell said.
Quirk smiled.
He said, “Un huh?”
“That’s why we were kinda rough in the cell there,” O’Dell said. “We didn’t really know what to ask.”
Quirk smiled understandingly.
“And you had four guys to help you,” Quirk said.
O’Dell shrugged. “Who asked you to find this out?” Quirk said.
“Mal Chapin.”
“Short for Malcolm?” Quirk said.
“I guess.”
“And who is Mal Chapin?” Quirk said.
O’Dell looked surprised. In his circles, Mal Chapin was probably an important name. “Senator Stratton’s office.”
“He hired you?”
“Well, yeah. We’re, like, ah, friends of the office, you know?”
“And the office steers business your way,” Quirk said.
“Sure. That’s how DeeCee works.”
“Who arranged the deal with the Alton County Sheriff?”
“I don’t know. I assume it was Mal. He’s got a lot of clout with Party people around the country.”
“And when you found out what Spenser knew,” Quirk said, “what then?”
“We see if we can scare him off,” O’Dell said.
“That’ll be the day,” I said.
I sounded exactly like John Wayne. No one seemed to notice. Quirk looked at O’Dell for a long, silent moment. Then he took one of the business cards out of his pocket and went to the phone. He read the dialing instructions, and dialed.
“This is Lieutenant Martin Quirk,” he said. “Is Reilly O’Dell there?… How about Edgar Grimes?… I’m the Homicide Commander, Boston Police Department. Please describe O’Dell for me.”
He waited. Then he nodded. “How about Grimes?” he said. He waited some more.
Then he said, “No, Miss, that’s fine. Just routine police business. What is your name, Miss? Thank you. No, they are not involved in a homicide.”
He hung up. “Your secretary is worried about you,” he said.
Neither of them said anything.
“What is your secretary’s first name?” Quirk said to O’Dell.
“Molly,” O’Dell said.
“What’s her last name?” Quirk said to Grimes.
“Burgin,” Grimes said. He continued to hold his head in his hands and stare at the floor between his feet.
Quirk looked at me. “Got any questions?” I shook my head. “Okay,” Quirk said.
We went to the door. Quirk paused and turned back to O’Dell and Grimes. A bruise was beginning to form on Grimes’s forearm where Quirk had hacked the gun free.
“Have a nice day,” Quirk said.
And we turned and left the room. Nobody said good-bye.
chapter twenty-five
WHEN SUSAN AND I made love at her house, we had to shut Pearl the wonder dog out of the bedroom, because if we didn’t, Pearl would attempt tirelessly to insinuate herself between us. Neither of us much wanted to leap up afterwards and let her in.
It was Sunday morning. We lay under one of Susan’s linen sheets with Susan’s head on my chest in the dead quiet house, listening to the sound of our breathing. I had my arm around her, and under the sheet she was resting the flat of her open hand lightly on my stomach.
