“What would be fun about it?” I said. “We’re not even together while we’re riding.”
“You’re just afraid you’ll fall off and embarrass yourself.”
“I thought you thought I was fearless,” I said.
“About stuff that matters,” she said. “But when it doesn’t matter, you hate doing things at which you’re not accomplished.”
“Shall I lean back, Doc, and recall my childhood?”
Susan took a small bite of her egg salad sandwich. “I have all the information about you I require,” she said. “Tell me about the Nathan Smith business you’re working on.”
“There’s a lot wrong with the Nathan Smith business,” I said. “First of all, there’s someone following me.”
“Dangerous?”
“No,” I said. “It’s a what’s-he-up-to tail, rather than a try-to-kill-him tail.”
“Oh good,” Susan said. “Do they know you’ve spotted them?”
“I don’t think so,” I said. “They’re still being covert. If they knew I’d made them they wouldn’t bother.”
“And you think it relates to the Nathan Smith murder?”
“Started shortly after I took the case,” I said.
“Do you know who they are?”
“They’re connected to a company called Soldiers Field Development Limited, the CEO of which is on Mary Smith’s invitation list.”
I took a second finger sandwich from the bag.
“What’s here besides bread and ham?” I said.
“Butter.”
“Butter?”
“Well, not exactly butter. I sprayed it with one of those no-calorie butter-flavored sprays. Same thing.”
“Jesus,” I said.
“Is it possible that it’s a coincidence, the surveillance and stuff? Or maybe connected to another case you were involved in? A loose end somewhere?”
“Always possible,” I said. “I leave enough loose ends. On the other hand, what do you shrinks think about coincidences?”
“They occur, but it is not a good idea to assume them.”
“That’s what we sleuths think about them, too,” I said.
“So if this were the open-and-shut it seems to be,” Susan said, “why would anyone follow you?”
“Why indeed?” I said.
“Do you have a theory?”
“Nothing so grand,” I said. “The tail aside, there’s a lot I don’t like about this. I don’t like how lousy Mary Smith’s alibi is. I don’t like the sense I get that there’s a lot I’m not being told.”
“By whom?”
“By Mary Smith. By a guy named Roy Levesque that she was in high school with. By a guy named DeRosa who says Mary asked him to kill Nathan. By the woman I talked with at Nathan’s bank. Nice woman, Amy Peters.”
“As nice as I am?” Susan said.
“Of course not,” I said. “She has information, or at least a theory, that she’s not sharing. So does Mary Smith’s PR guy. I’d also like to figure out why a stiff like DeRosa is represented by an attorney from Kiley and Harbaugh.”
“But you have a plan,” Susan said.
“I always have a plan,” I said.
“Let me guess,” she said. “I’ll bet you plan to keep blundering along annoying people, and see what happens.”
“Wow,” I said. “You shrinks can really read a guy.”
“Magical, isn’t it,” she said.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
I was on the low doorstep of a three-decker on Lithgow Street off Codman Square, looking for Esther Morales. She opened the door on my second ring, a small tan woman with bright intelligent eyes.
“Si?”
“My name is Spenser,” I said. “I’m working for Mary Smith. You do her housecleaning.”
“I clean for Mr. Smith,” she said. “Fifteen years.”
“Not Mrs. Smith?”
