“Their money, or insurance?” Healy said.
“Don’t know.”
“If it was insurance, they’ll be climbing all over this thing as well,” Healy said.
“As well as what?”
“As well as you,” Healy said.
“Except I’ll be trying to catch the perps,” I said. “And the insurance guys will be trying not to pay.”
“There’s that,” Healy said.
We went past the Red Line MBTA station, past the shopping center, around Fresh Pond Circle and the reservoir, heading toward the river. In the bright December sunshine, the reservoir looked encouragingly blue and fresh.
“I got hired to do one thing,” I said. “Keep him safe while he collected the painting.”
Healy nodded.
“You did everything else okay,” he said.
“Thanks,” I said.
Healy shrugged.
“I don’t know what you could have done,” Healy said.
“I don’t, either,” I said. “But whatever it was, I didn’t do it.”
“They outthought you,” Healy said.
“It’s part of what makes me mad,” I said.
“They controlled the situation,” Healy said. “It was a mismatch.”
“I guess.”
“Your pride’s hurt,” Healy said.
“This is what I do,” I said. “I can’t do it, where am I?”
“Where everybody is sometimes,” Healy said. “You looking for revenge?”
“No,” I said. “I barely knew the guy, and if I knew him better, I probably wouldn’t have enjoyed him.”
“You’re looking to even it up,” Healy said.
“Something like that,” I said.
“I know,” Healy said.
“I know you do,” I said.
We went around the head of the Charles and onto Soldiers Field Road past Harvard Stadium on the Boston side of the river.
“Some guys become cops because they get to carry a piece and order people around,” Healy said. “And some people do it because they like the work, and think it’s important.”
“Like you,” I said.
Healy nodded.
“And you,” he said. “Except you can’t work in a command structure.”
“I’m with Susan,” I said.
“Besides that,” Healy said.
“So you don’t have a problem,” I said, “with me looking into this.”
“Nope,” Healy said. “You’re nearly as good as you think you are, and you’ll do things I’m not allowed to do.”
“Damned command structure again,” I said.
“It has its uses,” Healy said. “Not every cop is as pure of heart as you are.”
“Or as much fun,” I said.
“Fun,” Healy said. “Long as you are fun on the right side of things, I got no problem with you.”
“Nor I with you,” I said.
“I am the right side of things,” Healy said.
“Ah,” I said. “That’s where it is.”
6
The Hammond Museum was a big gray stone building located in Chestnut Hill, halfway between Boston College and the Longwood Cricket Club. It had a gambrel roof and Palladian windows, and looked like one of those baronial cottages on the oceanfront in Newport.
