'You did yesterday,' Hawk said.
'I'm supposed to be grateful?' Alves said. 'I'm in for four years on something I didn't do, that some honky rich kid done, and they let me out and ah'm supposed to say thank you?'
'Actually it was a nigger rich kid,' Hawk said. 'And they didn't let you out, Spenser got you out.'
'And he got paid for it too, didn't he? Who gonna pay me for my four years?'
'Actually,' I said, 'two hundred is probably about what four years of your time is worth. You want that trucker job give me a call.'
'Don't you be sitting 'round waiting,' Alves said.
He turned toward the door and hesitated fractionally while he looked at Hawk, saw no objection, and walked out of my office.
'Glad he didn't get all sicky sweet with gratitude,' Hawk said.
'Yeah,' I said. 'It's always so embarrassing.'
'He be back inside in six months,' Hawk said.
'I hope so,' I said.
We were quiet for a moment…
'I probably wouldn't have made it back without you,' I said to Hawk.
'Probably not,' Hawk said.
I picked up the deposit envelope and looked at it.
'What do you think he'll do with the two hundred?' I said.
'Depends,' Hawk said. 'If he don't have a gun, he'll buy one. If he does, he'll spend it on a bottle of booze and a woman.'
'Nice to know he's got priorities,' I said.
'Good to know what they are, too,' Hawk said.
I nodded and looked at the deposit envelope again. It was a lot of money.
'I might have made it back alone,' I said.
Hawk smiled his charming heartless smile.
'Maybe,' he said.
Chapter 55
RUGAR'S TESTIMONY CONVICTED Don Stapleton. Clint's confession was supported by Hunt McMartin and the lissome Glenda. He too was convicted. Both convictions were being appealed when they let Rugar out. Brooks told me when he was getting out, and I met him on the steps of the new Suffolk County jail. The first snow of the season had begun to fall, it was only a degree or two away from rain, and it fell like rain, straight down, and small.
'You kept your word,' Rugar said.
He was wearing a gray tweed overcoat with a black velvet collar. He turned the collar up as he stood in the falling snow. He was still gray. I wondered if his color was connected to some internal coldness, like a gray reptile.
'You kept yours,' I said.
We walked down the steps together, carefully, because they had already become slippery, and turned right toward North Station and the new Fleet Center.
'The nigger get out?' Rugar said.
'Yes.'
'They tell me Stapleton's got that appellate specialist from Harvard,' he said, 'working on the convictions.'
'They've got a lot of money.'
'Probably have enough,' Rugar said. 'You have enough and the law makes a lot less difference.'
Time in jail had made no difference to him. He still spoke with the voice-under harmonic of some internal force.
'So young,' I said, 'yet so cynical.'
'If there's a retrial, I won't be around to testify,' Rugar said.
I shrugged.
'I do what I can,' I said. 'Alves is out of jail.'
'You like him?' Rugar said.
'No,' I said.
Rugar nodded slowly. 'Work is work,' he said.
'You ought to know.'
