at Hawaiian Shirt and me in the driveway. He disappeared from the back door for a moment and then reappeared carrying what looked like a 9mm semiautomatic, though it could have been a.38- or a.40-caliber. If he shot me with it, the difference would be insignificant. I was at my car. I kept my left forearm tight on Hawaiian Shirt's throat and let go of his right arm and pulled my own small gun. I poked it into Hawaiian Shirt's back so he'd know I had one.
'You stand right there or I will shoot you to death,' I said.
I let go of his throat. He didn't move. With him still screening me and my gun still pressed against his spine, I reached behind me with my left hand and opened my car door.
'Stay right there,' I said and slid in to my car and put the key in, starting the engine. From around the jamb of his back door, his body mostly screened, Ziggy was aiming at me with both hands on the gun. Still holding my gun, I put the car in drive and floored it. The car lurched forward, tires screaming with friction as they spun on the hot top driveway. Hawaiian Shirt hit the ground the minute the car moved, and a bullet thumped through the backseat passenger window of my car. I bent as low as I could as I tore down the driveway. I felt, more than heard, another bullet tear into the body of the car somewhere. Then I was out of the driveway and onto the street and gone, only a little worse off than I was before.
51
Ty-Bop and Junior were sitting on the front steps of Susan's house when I pulled up in front. They looked at me with recognition but no warmth. They were both black. Junior was about the size of Faneuil Hall, and Ty-Bop was average height and thin. They worked for Tony Marcus: Junior the muscle, Ty-Bop the shooter. I didn't care for them. I didn't care much for their boss, if it came to that. Even so, I nodded at them as I went up Susan's front stairs. Neither one nodded back. Churlish.
Pearl greeted me with an exuberant lunge, and when I went into the hall, I squatted and endured her exuberance until it abated. Hawk stood in the door of Susan's study, across from her office, and watched. When it was over, I stood and went past him into the study and sat on the couch against the front wall below the window.
'Ty-Bop and Junior?' I said.
'Tony owed me,' Hawk said.
'Ty-Bop's about nineteen,' I said.
'He older than he look,' Hawk said.
'Okay, so maybe he's twenty,' I said. 'He's also a cocaine addict.'
'He won't use while he's working here,' Hawk said.
'You spoke to him,' I said.
'I spoke to him. I spoke to Tony.'
I nodded. 'How about they're scaring the crap out of everyone on Linnaean Street,' I said.
'That's a bad thing?' Hawk said.
'No,' I said. 'Susan seen them?'
'Yes.'
'And?'
'Any friend of mine,' Hawk said.
I nodded again. 'Okay,' I said. 'As long as you trust them.'
'They'll stay,' Hawk said. 'Tony's word is good.'
'Got anybody else?'
'Vinnie'll be back in town tomorrow,' Hawk said. 'Cambridge puts a cruiser out front at night from eleven to seven. And, if all else fails, we got you.'
'Not for a couple of days,' I said. 'I gotta go back to San Diego.'
'Barry Gordon?'
'Yes. Can you arrange a gun?'
'Just like last time,' Hawk said. 'How about Bonnie/Bunny? You find her?'
'I found her.'
'And?'
I told him.
'Figure the husband's in the family business?'
'Seems so,' I said. 'And he or his father-in-law or both of them don't want anyone talking to Bunny.'
'Or at least don't want you,' Hawk said. 'You thought you could waltz in there and chat her up?'
'I was counting on charm,' I said.
Hawk grunted. 'Maybe we need to get her out of there,' Hawk said. 'Get her someplace quiet where your charm can do its work.'
'We may have to,' I said. 'Let's see what I can shake loose from Barry. What time is Vinnie due?'
'Be here tomorrow morning,' Hawk said.
