“He is,” I said. “No one else would have him.”
Hawk smiled a friendly smile.
“Okay,” the guy said. “We’re bringing Mrs. Bradshaw in.”
He spoke briefly into his walkie-talkie. Then he and his partner moved to stand on either side of the door. We waited. In a minute, four more security guys came to the door and stood aside and from among them, like an old Esther Williams water ballet, Heidi emerged and came into the office. She was wearing a fur coat, which she slid out of as she sat and let it drape over the back of her chair. She had on a stretchy, tight-fitting sleeveless black top and a camel-colored skirt. The skirt was short above black boots.
She looked around my office, her glance lingering on Hawk. Then she said, “Okay, Michael, you and the others can wait outside.”
“Yes, ma’am,” the security guy said. “Do you want the door left open?”
“No,” she said. “Close it.”
The men withdrew. The door closed, and there we were.
“Who is this gentleman?” Heidi said.
“My associate Hawk,” I said.
“Oh, my,” Heidi said.
Hawk nodded at her.
“He’s as male as you are,” Heidi said.
“But less winsome,” I said.
“Whatever that means,” Heidi said. “The two of you look like a testosterone commercial.”
It was the funny, warm, sexy Heidi today. Full of flirtatious innuendo. She really wanted something.
“And it’s all at your service,” I said. “Whaddya need?”
Heidi was quiet for a moment. She looked at Hawk for a long time, and then at me. She crossed her legs.
“May I speak freely?” she said.
“Yes,” I said.
She stretched a little in her chair so that her breasts pushed out. Then she put her head down and rubbed the bridge of her nose at the corners of her eyes.
“It’s terrible what happened to poor Harden,” she said softly. “Do you know who killed him?”
“Not yet,” I said.
“Can you tell me anything?”
“He was hiding out in a motel in Burlington, Mass,” I said. “Under the name Bailey. Somebody shot him in the head through the window of his hotel room.”
“Why was he hiding out?” she said.
“Don’t know.”
Heidi turned to Hawk, and as she leaned a little forward in the chair, her skirt got shorter.
“Were you there?” she said.
“Yes, ma’am,” Hawk said.
“Do you know anything?” she said.
“Same as Spenser,” Hawk said.
She looked back at me.
“Do the police have a theory?” she said.
“Not yet,” I said.
“You found him there.”
“Yes.”
“How did you happen to go there?”
“He called me,” I said. “Told me he was in danger. Asked for help.”
“And you were too late,” she said.
“Yes.”
“Why you?” she said.
“Good question,” I said. “I haven’t solved a crime in quite a long time.”
She shook her head slowly.
“You inspire confidence,” she said. “Something about you is reassuring.”
I looked at Hawk. He had no expression on his face.
“And you need reassurance,” I said.
“If it could happen to Harden…” she said.
“Hence the heavy security,” I said.
“Exactly.”
“And you want what from me?” I said.
“I want you to be my personal bodyguard.”
“In addition to the Tashtego patrol?” I said.
“They didn’t protect my Adelaide,” she said.
“Neither did I,” I said.
“You weren’t hired to,” Heidi said.
She shifted again in her chair, leaning toward me. The skirt seemed to have edged farther up her thighs. Probably just an accident.
“Why was I hired?” I said.
She sat back quite suddenly and stared at me.
“I… I told you already,” she said, “when I hired you. I’m not proud of it, I guess, but I needed a man to lean on.”
“Like a fish needs a bicycle,” I said.
She opened her mouth and her eyes widened. She closed her mouth. She narrowed her eyes. The gamut of emotion.
“What are you saying,” she said after a while.
Her voice was breathy.
“I’m saying you don’t lean on men. You use them. I’m saying that you were involved with something or someone that scared you,” I told her. “And you wanted a tough guy around to help you if it went bad. I was the tough guy of choice.”
“I don’t… you think I knew what was going to happen? What an awful thing to think. My daughter is gone. My son-in-law is dead. I am the victim here. How dare you accuse me.”
“Did you know your son-in-law was gay?” I said.
“That’s a disgusting thing to say. Of course he wasn’t gay. If he were gay, why would he be marrying my daughter?”
“My question exactly,” I said.
“I came here asking for your help, and you say these things to me?”
“Did you know Rugar,” I said to Heidi, “in Bucharest, in 1984?”
“What?”
“You were in Bucharest in 1984,” I said. “With Bradshaw, who was working out of the American embassy. So was Rugar.”
“That’s absurd,” Heidi said.
She was sitting stiffly upright in her chair now. Her knees were pressed together; the ascent of her skirt had halted at mid-thigh. Her elbows were on the arms of the chair. Her hands were clasped in front of her. She seemed to be breathing rapidly, as if she had sprinted a distance.
“Coulda happened,” Hawk said helpfully.
“It didn’t,” Heidi said.
She was almost prim.
“Kind of a big coincidence, though,” I said. “You’re all in Bucharest at the same time, and then, twenty-two years later, he shows up at your daughter’s wedding and kidnaps her.”
“I don’t care,” Heidi said. “I never met him.”
