'Just like her,' he said.
Susan said, 'Thank you, Francis,' and smiled at him enough to weaken his knees, though when he walked away he seemed stable enough. Maybe I was projecting.
'When I was alone, after it was all over, and you'd gone, I got very shaky and felt like crying.'
'Post traumatic shock syndrome,' I said wisely.
'That's usually somewhat more post trauma than this was,' she said. 'Though you are very cute to use the phrase.'
'I was trying to sound smart,' I said.
'Settle for cute,' Susan said.
'Damn,' I said. 'I've been settling for that all my life.'
'Anyway. I didn't cry.'
'Nothing wrong with crying,' I said.
'I don't like to,' she said.
I shrugged. Francis came by and refilled our champagne glasses.
'Regardless,' I said. 'You looked pretty good with that brick, little lady.'
'Do you ever get shaky after something like that?'
I thought about it.
'Mostly no,' I said. 'But I've done more of it than you have.'
'Mostly no?'
'Yeah.'
'But not always no?'
'Sometimes depends on the situation. Long time ago, in San Francisco, when I was looking for you, I had to shoot a pimp because if I didn't he'd have killed two whores. I had problems with that afterwards.'
'Because it was cold-blooded?'
'Yes.'
'Even though it was necessary?'
'More than that, it was my responsibility. Hawk and I got the whores into trouble with the guy. It was the only way to get them out.'
'Did you feel like crying?'
'I threw up,' I said.
'Oh,' Susan said. 'Did it bother Hawk?'
'No.'
'Hawk's life has desensitized him in many cases,' Susan said.
'But not in all cases,' I said.
'Which is a triumph,' Susan said.
We were quiet while we ate the clams. Susan washed her last one down with a swallow of champagne.
'I must admit,' Susan said, 'that I feel better about my own reaction, knowing you sometimes have one.'
'You don't have to be so damned tough,' I said.
'I don't wish to be stereotypically frail about things.'
'Tough is what you do, more than it is how you feel about it before or after,' I said. 'You're tough enough.'
'I haven't been so tough about my past,' she said.
Francis came and cleared the clams and brought us each a salad of lobster and tiny potatoes. He topped off our champagne glasses without comment.
'You mean Sterling,' I said.
'And Russell Costigan, and all of that,' she said.
'You seem to me to have handled it pretty well,' I said. 'Here we are.'
'But I have you embroiled in something bad because of it, because of… my former husband. That incident the other night was connected, wasn't it?'
'Probably.'
'And Carla Quagliozzi?'
I shrugged.
'Did I hear something about her tongue being cut out?'
