a handicap. For the people who aren't talking about things, however, it is a way to control feelings so you won't be tripping over them while you're trying to do something useful. Containment is not limitation. It is an alternative to being controlled by your feelings.'
Susan smiled.
'How artful,' she said. 'You're talking about men and women, but you don't specify.'
'I don't think it's necessarily gender differentiated,' I said. 'Lot of women are critical of a lot of men on the issue, and a lot of men feel that women don't get it. But I hate to generalize. You, for instance, are very contained.'
'And there are moments when you are not.'
Pearl came loping back from the house toward my second sandwich. There was an accusatory look to her as she came, unless that was just projection on my part. I got another large bite in before she reached me.
'Like when?' I said around the bite.
'You know,' Susan said. 'I don't wish to speak of it in front of the baby.'
'She has to know sometime,' I said.
Pearl rested her chin on my knee and rolled her eyes up to look at me. I gave her the remainder of my sandwich.
'I think she knows everything she needs to know, now,' Susan said.
Pearl bolted down the remainder of my lunch and wagged her tail.
'You won't tell the guys, will you?' I said. 'That the dog bullies me?'
'No,' Susan said. 'Or that you let me see your emotions from time to time.'
'Whew!'
'Have you located this man Deleon?'
'No. I've talked to the cops and a priest. He's somewhere in Proctor. Monday, I'm going to talk to a guy named Freddie Santiago, who's sort of the mayor of Hispanic Proctor.'
'Isn't that most of Proctor?'
'Yeah, nearly all.'
'But he isn't the real mayor.'
'He may be the real mayor. But the official mayor is a guy named Harrington.'
'Is Hawk helping on this?'
'Hawk's in Burma,' I said. 'Right now, I need someone who speaks Spanish.'
'Burma? What can Hawk be doing in Burma?'
'Better not to know,' I said. 'Gives us deniability.'
Chapter 15
When he came into the coffee shop at the Park Plaza, Quirk looked like he always did, thick bodied, neat, clean shaven, fresh haircut, hands like a mason. Today he wore a blue suit and a blue-and-white striped shirt. He slid into a seat across from me and ordered some coffee.
'Deleon is dirty,' he said.
'Not a surprise,' I said. 'How bad is it?'
'Pretty bad,' Quirk said. 'He's been arrested twice on assault, once on possession with intent… once for rape. He walked on both assault charges when the witnesses failed to appear. He walked on the rape charge when the victim recanted. He got a suspended sentence and three for the possession with intent.'
'The wheels of justice grind exceeding slow,' I said.
'Don't they?' Quirk said. 'He is suspected of, but never charged with, several murders associated with the drug trade, and probably some homicides related to some kind of sporadic turf war going on up there between him and Freddie Santiago. Freddie's got them outnumbered, I'm told, and owns most of the city. But Deleon and his outfit are so mean and violent and plain fucking crazy that Freddie has never had the nads to go into San Juan Hill and dig them out.'
I nodded. A waitress came over and poured coffee into Quirk's cup.
'Would you like a menu?' she said.
Quirk said, 'No, you got a couple plain donuts?'
The waitress said that she had and went to get them.
'You got any history on him?' I said.
'More than you want to read,' Quirk said. 'Department of Ed's got core evaluations. DYS got counseling reports. There's a file in the Department of Employment and Training, the Probation Commission, Department of Social Services, Public Welfare, probably the Mass. Historical Commission. If there was a state service this kid used it.'
'How old is he?'
'Twenty-six. Born in Puerto Rico, came here as a baby. His mother was a hooker, father unknown. Mother was a crack head, committed suicide ten years ago. No record of him finishing school. He was in an outreach program at
