'It's good to face the truth,' she said.
'Would it help if I sat on your lap?'
'It might,' I said.
CHAPTER 31
Hawk and I went to see Gino Fish on a raw day with no sun and the wind coming hard off the Atlantic. Gino lived in a big colonial house on the ocean side of Jerusalem Road in Cohasset. There was a circular drive in front and a lawn that sloped to the seawall behind. The house was done in white cedar shingles which had silvered in the salt air, the way they're supposed to. A very handsome young man answered the door.
'Gino home?' I said.
'Who should I say is calling?'
'Spenser,' I said.
'He knows me.'
'Certainly, sir, and the other gentleman?'
'Hawk.'
'I'm Mr. Fish's personal assistant,' the handsome young man said.
'Is there something I could help you with?'
He was wearing what appeared to be a pale blue sweat suit, with a stand-up collar. The sweat suit looked like it was made of silk. It also looked like it had never known sweat.
'Just tell Gino we're here, and we want to tell him something about Marty.'
'Mr. Anaheim?'
Neither Hawk nor I answered. The personal assistant still hesitated. Hawk and I still stood.
Finally the personal assistant said, 'If you'll excuse me for a moment.'
He closed the door.
Hawk looked at me.
'Personal assistant?'
I shrugged.
'That's what he said.'
Hawk nodded. The front door opened again and the personal assistant was there.
'Mr. Fish is busy at the moment, but if you wish to wait, he'll see you as soon as he's through.'
'We'll wait,' I said.
'Please come this way then,' the personal assistant said.
He led us to the right off the central entry hall into a room with a huge picture window that looked out at the ocean. He gestured gracefully at the rock maple chairs with red plaid cushions that stood on either side of a brick fireplace. Neither Hawk nor I sat.
'Mr. Fish will be with you as soon as he's free,' the personal assistant said.
'Yes he will,' I said.
The personal assistant frowned as if he were puzzled. Then he nodded politely and left the room. Hawk went and looked out the picture window at the harsh gray ocean ruffled white here and there at the tips of its waves by the onshore wind.
'Thing about getting a place with a great view,' Hawk said, 'is, after you moved in and looked at the great view for a few days, you get used to it and it ain't a great view anymore. It just what you look at out your window.'
'You're a deep guy,' I said.
'And sensitive,' Hawk said.
'Maybe I should host a talk show.'
'Will you have me as a guest?' I said.
'
'Course not.'
Hawk continued to look at the ocean. The room where we waited was completely furnished in rock maple furniture with red plaid upholstery. Couch, four armchairs, two slipper rockers.
There were a couple of Hingham buckets around to serve as ashtray stands, and there was a big red-toned braided rug on the floor. The fireplace had a large round eagle mirror over the mantel.
'I wonder who's Gino's decorator,' I said.
'Molly Pitcher,' Hawk said.
'What was it we doing here?'
