Sixkill

'Mother stays home mostly; she used to call a lot, see if we knew where her daughter was. Don't know much else about her.'

'Older brother seems fine,' I said.

'Yeah, good grades, played sports, went to Harvard,' Cataldo said. 'I don't know how he escaped.'

'No trouble with the law,' I said.

'Except for what I told about Dawn, none of them.'

'You know what they got for cars?'

'Yeah, he just got a new one, and was blowing off to me about it.'

'What kind?'

'Cadillac DTS, maroon.'

'The big sedan?'

'Yeah, top of the line,' Cataldo said.

'Anything else you know?'

'Lots,' Cataldo said. 'But not about the Lopata family.'

After I hung up, I called Dawn's friend Christine. They had left Dawn after they lunched with Jumbo. Neither Christine nor James owned a car, and neither she nor James knew how Dawn traveled to Boston on the day of her death.

44

WE WERE DRIVING on Atlantic Ave.

'You doing any juice these days?' I said to Z.

'At Cal Wesleyan, we called them PES,' Z said. 'Performance-enhancing supplements.'

'Still using?' I said.

Z shook his head.

'Not since Jumbo fired me,' he said.

'What made you quit?' I said.

Z grinned.

'A great truth was revealed to me,' Z said.

'Which was?'

'He was my supplier,' Z said.

'How long you been doing them?' I said.

'Freshman year,' Z said. 'Playing, you know, like, majorleague college football, you seem to need them to keep up. Guy you're competing with for the starting job is using. The pass rushers are using. The DBs on the other side are using.'

'Who was your supplier then?'

'One of the alums,' Z said. 'Fella named Calhoun, was paying my way, he used to get them for me.'

'Part of your scholarship,' I said.

'Scholarship, hell,' Z said. 'I was on salary.'

'Don't seem to need them,' I said.

Z nodded.

'Always been a big, strong mofo since I was a papoose,' he said.

'Papoose?' I said.

'Authentic Injun talk, Kemo Sabe,' Z said.

'Christ,' I said. 'And I'm still learning to say 'Native American.' '

We pulled up in front of the Inn on the Wharf, where Dawn Lopata had died. The doorman came to the car. He was a sturdy young guy, and his nameplate said Mike. I gave him a twenty.

'Can we talk for a moment?' I said.

'Sure thing,' Mike said.

'Name's Spenser; I'm working on the Dawn Lopata death,' I said.

'Sure,' Mike said. 'Seen you here before.'

'My associate, Mr. Sixkill,' I said.

Mike nodded at Z.