Outside Quirk's one window, the summer evening had settled in. It wasn't quite dark, but the sky had turned that navy blue and the color permeated the atmosphere.

There were occasions when this was my favorite time of day.

'So, what do you want to do?' I said.

Epstein and Quirk looked at each other.

'I still have the home office to fight,' Epstein said.

I nodded.

'Sonny's got resources,' Quirk said. 'I don't want Bunny to get scared off and disappear.'

I decided not to mention that she might already have been scared off by me. I thought it best, for the moment, to assume that they'd leave her in place and try to bury me.

'We need to get Bunny alone,' I said.

'We do,' Quirk said.

'You have any suggestions?'

'You and Hawk could get her out of there,' Quirk said.

'Excellent idea,' Epstein said. 'Unofficially speaking.'

'Hawk's with Susan,' I said.

Quirk nodded.

'I figure Frank and I could sit in on that as, ah, private citizens during off-duty hours.'

'I could sit in on that,' Epstein said.

'Unofficially,' I said.

'Of course,' Epstein said. 'Unofficially.'

'Be nice if we knew where Abner Fancy was.'

'Would be,' Quirk said.

'I wouldn't want you to exhaust yourselves,' I said. 'But have you looked?'

Quirk nodded.

'He's not in the system,' Epstein said. 'We don't know where he is, or even if he's alive.'

'Well,' I said. 'When I get Bunny alone, I'll ask her.'

'Let us know,' Quirk said, 'when you want us in Cambridge.'

'I will,' I said. 'You'll get to meet the new Pearl.'

'Is she calm and relaxed?'

'No,' I said. 'She'll bark and race around and, if she likes you, jump up and rest her paws on your shoulders and lap your face.'

'I think I went out with her once,' Epstein said.

55

The car picked me up as I turned onto Mass. Avenue going home from Police Headquarters. It was a dark burgundy Lincoln, and the driver was pretty good. He dropped back several cars behind me, changed positions occasionally, and once even turned off and went around the block, in a stretch where there was no chance for him to lose me. It's easier to tail at night, because mostly to the guy being tailed you're merely a set of headlights like every other set. But in this part of town, the streetlights were bright and the traffic was heavy, so the ambient light was pretty good. The last time anyone had tailed me, the plan had been to shoot me. I assumed there was a similar plan in place now. It would be someone from Sonny, and, given how badly it had gone the last time or two, I suspected that this time it would be Harvey, the specialist. I could go around the block and back to Police Headquarters and probably discourage the stalker. But that would just postpone things, and something happening was more likely to resolve this mare's nest than nothing happening. The question was where to let it happen. I stayed on Mass. Avenue while I thought about this, through the South End and into the Back Bay. At Beacon Street, I turned left and, a block later, swung right up the ramp onto Storrow Drive. I drove west along the river into Allston and went up the slight ramp at the Anderson bridge, turning left away from the bridge onto North Harvard Street. A half block up, I turned right into the parking lot at Harvard Stadium and parked. I unlocked the glove compartment and took out the 9mm Browning I kept for emergency firepower. I ran a shell up into the chamber, let the hammer down, and got out and walked through the open doors into the nearly total darkness under the stands.

In less stressful moments, I had come here with Susan, who thought it a perfect conditioning plan to run up and down the stadium steps. I found it most effective in keeping my knees sore. I went up the entry stairs and into the moon-brightened area low down in the stands, close to the field.

Harvard Stadium was a bowl, open at the northerly end. At the top of the stadium was a covered arcade where people could circle until they found their seating section. With the Browning in my right hand, I went up the stairs on the run, grateful at this moment for the hours with Susan. It was still a long way to the top. I felt conspicuous in the bright moonlight. I thought of a line from Eliot. something about the nerve patterns displayed on the wall by a magic lantern. My back felt tight, I could feel a gun sight on it. I could hear my heartbeat and my labored breathing as I went up. I was wearing sneakers, but my footfalls still seemed blatant in the pale, empty stadium. No one shot me. At the top I was in under the arcade roof, shielded by the chest-high wall. From where I stood, I could see most of the stadium. There was no movement. Harvey might not be a fan of the Crimson, and might not know the stadium as well as I did. He also knew I was in here, and he might proceed with caution. My throat was tight. My breath still rasped. Nothing happened. Where were they? I waited in the stillness and the moonlight. Nothing. I

Вы читаете Back Story
Добавить отзыв
ВСЕ ОТЗЫВЫ О КНИГЕ В ИЗБРАННОЕ

0

Вы можете отметить интересные вам фрагменты текста, которые будут доступны по уникальной ссылке в адресной строке браузера.

Отметить Добавить цитату