'Of course you know I hate this whole enterprise,' she said.
Hawk and I both nodded.
'But you'll do what you're going to do,' she said, 'so I might as well help as best I can.' She paused. 'I know far too much about shrinkage and life to try psychotherapy at the bar, drinking white wine.'
'Oh, good,' Hawk said.
Susan smiled.
'But you need to understand that you are in unfamiliar territory here. You have always in the past known what to do. It may have been a hard, dangerous thing. But you're good at that, and you alone had to accept the consequences of doing it or not doing it.'
Hawk nodded at me.
'Ain't so different than him,' he said.
'There are similarities,' Susan said. 'But here you have Cecile to think about, and Richard Gillespie, and Tony Marcus and his daughter are in here somewhere, and one thing you want to do contradicts another thing.'
'I hate when it do that,' Hawk said.
'And no one,' Susan said. 'Not even you, can go through being shot and nearly dying and spending days in the ICU and weeks in the hospital without being affected. You're smart enough to know that.'
Hawk and I looked at each other. It had happened to both of us and we both knew she was right… about both of us.
'So, how that affect my plans?' Hawk said.
'More than anything, it makes it harder for you to have one. For maybe the first time in your, ah, professional life, you are being pushed by emotion.'
'Spenser ain't got no plan, either,' Hawk said. 'He ain't being pushed by emotion.'
'But he won't impose. You know him nearly as well as I do. He will stay with you, let you run it, go where you want to go.'
Hawk nodded.
'He do that,' Hawk said.
'He do that with me, too,' Susan said. 'It drives me fucking crazy.'
'Gee,' I said, 'I was liking it better when we were talking about Hawk's problems.'
Susan smiled.
'Of course,' she said. 'And it's very decent to be that way, but sometimes it's not useful. You need to know what you know, what you don't know, and what you have to know. And you need to have it in mind. You need to know what part of what you want to do can be done now, and what needs to wait, and what it needs to wait for. Is there anything you don't understand in this situation? Anything missing?'
I drank some scotch. Susan looked at me. Hawk looked at me. The bartender looked at me. I gestured for another round. No one said anything. I looked at Chris Lannum over at her table, having a nice time. The bartender came with the fresh drinks. I finished my first scotch just in time.
'Okay,' I said. 'Thing's been bothering me from the moment his name popped up. Boots Podolak. He's nasty. But he's got no stature. And he's dumber than a candlepin.'
'You wonder why he's the big boss in Marshport,' Susan said.
'Yeah. Boss Tweed he ain't.'
'You think maybe somebody proppin' him up?' Hawk said.
'Be something to find out,' I said.
'I been so busy thinking 'bout killing him…'
'Be a place to start,' I said.
'Would,' Hawk said. 'Might be nice to find out for sure what happened to that lawyer, Duda, that went to Miami.'
'Would,' I said. 'Might be wise to talk with Rita Fiore, know what arrangement we could actually make for Luther's kid.'
Hawk nodded and grinned at Susan.
'See, tole you we could help you,' he said, 'we put our mind to it.'
Susan smiled back at him and put her hand on top of his.
'I'm very grateful,' she said.
35
WE HAD DRINKS with Rita Fiore in the late afternoon at a table by the window in the Ritz Bar on Arlington Street. Rita's interest in Hawk was radiant, but she was in her professional mode and she kept it under control. She did manage to sit sideways in her chair for a while and stretch out her legs in such a manner that Hawk could admire them. Which he did. Me, too.
'Sure,' Rita said. 'We can set up an escrow account for this kid and it can be funded by anybody that wants
