'Well,' I said. 'I feel bad for Alice.'
Quirk looked at me some more.
'I'll bet you do,' he said.
I stood.
'We done?' I said.
Quirk nodded.
'Nice job,' he said.
I said, 'Thanks,' and left.
I had one more thing I had to do.
63
TOM LOPATA'S OFFICE was in a converted storefront in Malden Square. There were several desks. Tom sat at the one closest to the door. The others were unoccupied.
He stood when I came in, and I could see him flipping through his mental Rolodex until he matched my face with a name. Then he stuck out his hand.
'Hey,' he said. 'Mr. Spenser, excellent to see you.'
I didn't shake hands with him.
'I've stopped by to tell you what I know,' I said. 'I'm not telling anyone else. But I want to be sure that you know that I know.'
'Sure,' he said, and sat down. 'Sure. I'll help you any way I can.'
He gestured toward a chair. I stayed on my feet.
'You drove your daughter in to hook up with Jumbo Nelson,' I said. 'We know that. What only you and I know is that you did it because you hoped it would help you sell a big policy to him and the movie company.'
'What are you saying?'
'I'm saying you pimped your daughter to a notorious pig. For money, and it got her killed.'
'Why. . . What good does this kind of talk do now?' Lopata said.
'It doesn't do the kid any good. And I won't tell your wife or your son. I won't tell the cops. I won't tell anybody. But I want you to wake up every morning of every day and know what you did,' I said. 'Every morning.'
'This is crazy,' he said. 'There's no way you could know this. I didn't do anything wrong.'
I looked at him.
'I didn't,' he said.
I didn't answer.
'I spent my life, for crissake, feeding them and buying them stuff I couldn't afford, and sending them to schools I couldn't afford. My fucking son is at Harvard. All I wanted was for her to put in a good word for me, just once. Is that fucking evil?'
'Yeah,' I said. 'In fact, it is.'
'Come on,' he said. 'That's bullshit. I didn't do nothing so bad.'
'Think about it,' I said. 'Every day.'
I left.
WHEN I GOT BACK to Boston I changed into sweats, put some clean clothes and a shaving kit in a gym bag, and went down to the Harbor Health Club. I lifted weights. I hit the speed bag. I hit the heavy bag until the sweat was all over me and soaking through my shirt. Then I went to the steam room and sat for a long time. When I came out, I showered and shaved and put on my clean clothes.
It was still raining when I came out of the club. But it seemed to me that it was getting a little lighter in the west. Over Cambridge. Where Susan lived.
After the rain lifted, the world would probably seem as freshly washed as I was. The cleanliness was almost certainly illusory, or at best short-lasting. But life is mostly metaphor, anyway.
I got in my car and drove west.
THE SPENSER NOVELS
