husband.' I looked at Bernie for a moment,
'And, I would guess, four inches taller.'
'You think I can't handle myself?' Bernie said.
'You've probably been handling yourself too much,' I said.
E llen giggled. I think we were both startled.
Bernie said, 'Ellen, for God's sake.'
E llen said, 'Well, it was kind of funny. And, Bernie, get real. Look at him. He's much too big and strong.'
'Thank you,' I said.
She smiled at me and said, 'You're welcome.'
'Okay, okay,' Bernie said. 'We'll let it go for now.'
'Whew,' I said.
'But I want to know your scam.'
'Somebody spiked your open-marriage poster boy three times in the head.'
'Open marriage?' Bernie said.
'Darrin and I explained our arrangement to Mr. Spenser,' Ellen said.
'I would have thought it was none of his business,' Eisen said.
I thought he had a point.
'Oh, aren't you funny?' Ellen said. 'Darrin felt it was the right thing to do. You know perfectly well that a relationship cannot be truly open if we are not truly open about it.' Eisen nodded.
'I know, darling. I know.' He looked at me.
'All the more reason that your story doesn't hold water. In a relationship like ours, there's nothing to hide. Why would someone follow either one of us.'
'My question exactly,' I said.
'Well, my man,' Eisen said to me. 'If your story is anything but some sort of clumsy attempt to extort money, then I guess you'll have to talk with Steve Gavin. I know nothing about any of this, and I'm sure Ellen doesn't either.'
'I don't,' Ellen said, 'really.'
I t was quite possible that they didn't. But Bernie knew it had happened. It would have been forcefully explained to him by Gavin, the moment after I left Gavin's office. It had almost certainly also been explained that his mouth should remain firmly shut on the matter. Which it would until I had something to pry it open with. I finished the last of my scotch and soda and put the glass down, centering it on the coaster. Tough guy like Eisen, you couldn't be too careful
'Thanks for your time,' I said. Eisen didn't say anything.
E llen stood and said, 'I'll walk to the door with you.' After she closed the door behind me and while I was waiting for the elevator, I put my ear against the door. But I couldn't hear anything. Maybe there was nothing to hear. Maybe in open marriage you didn't get too attached to your non-spousal partner. Ellen had shown no sign that Trent Rowley's death made any difference to her. I wondered if she'd mourn Bernie. Or Darrin O'Mara. Maybe in open marriage you didn't get too attached to anybody. Easy come, easy go. Maybe open marriage was a crock. In the elevator, going down, I decided that it was.
21
No one was in the office at 9:15 in the morning when I showed up at the Templeton Group. No one arrived. I called them on my cell phone. An answering machine told me that they weren't there to receive my call, but that my call was important to them, and I should leave a message. I left my cell phone number. There was a sort of coffee shop-cafeteria on the lobby floor of 100 Summer, so I went down and ate two donuts and drank some coffee. At 10:30 I called Templeton again. Same machine. Same message. I left my cell phone number.
Back at my office, I opened all the windows so that the fresh exhaust fumes from Berkeley Street could dispel the stale air. Then I got the phone book out and looked up Jerry Francis and Mario Bellini. Neither was in Boston. I called information.
That took a while, but eventually I found Jerry Francis in Dedham and Mario Bellini in Revere. I called them. I got two more answering machines. I left my cell phone number.
I was beginning to feel lonely. I called Elmer O'Neill's number in Arlington. I got a machine. I left my cell phone number. After I hung up I stood for a while looking out my window. The weather was good. There were a number of well-dressed women moving past on Berkeley Street. I honed my surveillance skills on them for a while, and then, in the absence of a better plan, I closed up the office and drove out to Arlington to see if Elmer might show up.
The recycled gas station was closed, and locked. There was no back in an hour sign in the window. I sat in my car and did some more work on 411, looking for a home number and address. It was easy. He lived in Arlington, in his office. I got out and went and looked through the office front window. He wasn't in there. On the left wall there was a door to what had probably once been a service bay. I walked around and looked in a small window. It was Elmer's room. He wasn't in it. I drove up to Revere and located Mario Bellini's place on the first floor of a faded three-decker. He wasn't in it. Then I drove down to Dedham and tried Francis's pad in something brick that they probably called a garden apartment. Francis wasn't there. No one answered the door anywhere. Apparently all three lived alone. I called them all a couple more times on the drive back from Dedham. I didn't get anyone. I didn't bother to leave my cell phone number.
I n the detective business when every avenue seems closed, the best thing to do is to find a really good-looking
