Chapter 3
I sat inside the frosted glass cubicle where the Homicide Commander had his office and talked with Martin Quirk about Belson.
'Frank's taking some time off,' Quirk said.
His blue blazer hung on a hanger on a hook inside his door. He wore a white shirt and a maroon knit tie and his thick hands rested quietly on the near-empty desk between us. He was always quiet, except when he got mad, then he was quieter. Nobody much wanted to make him mad.
'I know,' I said.
'You know why?'
'Needed a rest.'
'You know about his wife?'
'Yes.'
'Me too,' I said.
'What do you know?'
'I know she's gone.'
Quirk nodded.
'Okay,' he said. 'So I don't have to be cute.'
'Is that what you were being?'
'Yeah.'
'He's afraid she left him,' I said.
'Happens,' Quirk said.
'You've never had the experience,' I said.
'You have.'
'Yeah.'
'I remember.'
'There's nothing logical about your first reactions,' I said.
'Must be why they call it crazy time.'
'That's why,' I said. 'What do you know about her?'
'No, you got it wrong,' Quirk said. 'I'm the copper. I say stuff like that to you.'
'Frank won't talk about her.'
Quirk nodded. 'But you, being a fucking Eagle Scout, are nosing around.'
'That's how I like to think of it,' I said.
'Frank's kind of fucked up about this.'
'So what do you know about her?'
'Her name's Lisa St. Claire. She's a disc jockey at a station in Proctor, which is one of those jerkwater cities up by New Hampshire.'
'I know Proctor,' I said.
'Good for you,' Quirk said. 'Frank met her about a year ago. In the bar at the Charles Hotel. Frank had just gone through the divorce. The old lady didn't let go easy. You ever meet adorable Kitty?'
I nodded.
'So Lisa looked good to him. Hell, she looks good to me, and I'm happily married. Frank probably did the I'm- a-police-detective trick, always works great.'
'How the hell do you know?' I said.
'Used to work great for me.'
'You got married before you were a detective.'
Quirk grinned.
'I used to lie,' he said. 'Anyway, she and Frank started going out. They moved in together about a month later, his old lady had the house. Maybe six months ago they got married and bought that place out near the pond.'
'She got money?'
Quirk shrugged.
'How much does a disc jockey make?'
'More than a cop.'
''Cause they're more valuable,' he said. 'Frank worked a lot of overtime, probably had a little something put
