1.
He came into my office carrying a thin briefcase under his left arm. He was wearing a dark suit and a white shirt with a red-and-blue-striped tie. His red hair was cut very short. He had a thin, sharp face. He closed the door carefully behind him and turned and gave me the hard eye.
“You Spenser?” he said.
“And proud of it,” I said.
He looked at me aggressively and didn’t say anything. I smiled pleasantly.
“Are you being a wise guy?” he said.
“Only for a second,” I said. “What can I do for you?”
“I don’t like this,” he said.
“Well,” I said. “It’s a start.”
“I don’t like funny either,” he said.
“Then we should do great,” I said.
“My name is Dennis Doherty,” he said.
“I love alliteration,” I said.
“What?”
“There I go again,” I said.
“Listen, pal. You don’t want my business, just say so.”
“I don’t want your business,” I said.
“Okay,” he said.
He stood and walked toward my door. He opened it and stopped and turned around.
“I came on a little strong,” he said.
“I noticed that,” I said.
“Lemme start over,” Doherty said.
I nodded.
“Try not to frighten me,” I said.
He closed the door and came back and sat in one of the chairs in front of my desk. He looked at me for a time. No aggression. Just taking notice.
“You ever box?” he said.
I nodded.
“The nose?” I said.
“More around the eyes,” Doherty said.
“Observant,” I said.
“The nose has been broken,” Doherty said. “I can see that. But it’s not fl attened.”
“I retired before it got fl at,” I said.
Doherty nodded. He looked at the large picture of Susan on my desk.
“You married?” he said.
“Not quite,” I said.
“Ever been married?”
“Not exactly,” I said.
“Who’s in the picture?” he said.
“Girl of my dreams,” I said.
“You together?” Doherty said.
“Yes.”
“But not married,” he said.
“No.”
“Been together long?” he said.
“Yes.”
We were quiet.
“You having trouble with your wife?” I said after a time. He glanced at the wedding ring on his left hand. Then he looked back at me and didn’t answer.
