“I’m not sure you can help him with that,” I said.
“Nor wish to,” Susan said. “But none of that is germane to what he’s doing. Right now he just wants to seduce me into being alone with him.”
“Which will not happen,” I said.
“Which will not happen,” Susan said. “What progress are you making?”
“I have talked to sixteen women that Alderson knew when he was in Cleveland. The most recent one to see him was Claire Goldin, who last saw him in 1994 when his name was still Turner.”
“When did Red meet him?” Susan said.
“Somewhere around 1996,” I said. “When his name had changed to Alderson.”
“So whatever caused him to change his name happened between 1994 and 1996,” Susan said. “Are you ready to talk with Epstein yet?”
“No.”
“The FBI has considerable resources. They might be able to fi nd out a little about Bradley Turner.”
“Do I tell you how to shrink the loonies?” I said.
“Wow,” Susan said. “I’ve never heard it described that way.”
“One of the women I talked to told me I was fun,” I said.
“She has no idea,” Susan said.
We were quiet for a moment listening to the soundless distance between us.
“I miss you,” Susan said.
“I know,” I said. “I don’t like this either.”
“How soon?” Susan said.
“I got a guy to talk with tomorrow. Then maybe I can come home.”
“Good.”
“Who’s with you now?”
“Chollo and Vinnie are downstairs in the study. Hawk is in the living room with Pearl reading the
“I wonder who’s reading to whom,” I said.
51.
Fred schuler was still in business. He had an offi ce on Ontario Street, near the Justice Center. He must have been doing okay because it was a nice office, with a reception area, in a good building . . . with a secretary.
“Have a seat, brother,” Schuler said.
He was tallish and lean with white hair and bright blue eyes.
“You had a job tailing someone named Bradley Turner,” I said.
“In 1994. His wife apparently thought he was cheating on her.”
“I tail a lot of husbands, for a lot of wives,” he said. “And that was a while ago. What’s this about?”
“Murder case in Boston. I think this guy Turner killed a couple of people. He was using the name Perry Alderson.”
“How come you’re involved?” he said.
“I was hired by one victim to check on the other.”
Schuler nodded.
“And they both got killed?” he said.
I nodded.
“I feel like I shouldn’t let clients get murdered without doing something about it,” I said.
“You been a cop?” he said.
“Yeah,” I said. “You?”
“Nope. I was an insurance investigator and sort of drifted into this. Mostly divorce work. Good money, a steady stream of clients. Not a lot of heavy lifting.”
“Most adulterers aren’t too hard to catch,” I said.
“You got that right,” Schuler said.
“How about Turner?” I said. “You remember him?”
“Not off the top of my head,” Schuler said.
“You have fi les?” I said.
