7
I drove up to Toronto on a Monday morning, with the sun shining the way it was supposed to in May, and got an all-chocolate, fifteen-month-old female German shorthaired pointer, whose kennel name was Robin Hood's Purple Sandpiper. She was crated when I got her, which was a sound idea given that it was a ten-hour drive home. You wouldn't want her jumping around in a strange car and causing an accident. As I pulled onto 404 north of Toronto, she whimpered. At the first rest area we came to on 401, I discarded the crate next to the Dumpster behind the food court, and Robin Hood's Purple Sandpiper spent the rest of the trip jumping around in the car. Susan had said that ten hours was too long for her to have to ride on her first day, so Robin Hood's Purple Sandpiper and I spent Monday night at a motel in Schenectady. Unless you are a lifelong GE fan, there's not a lot to be said for Schenectady.
Robin Hood's Purple Sandpiper slept very little and was full awake at 5:10 Tuesday morning. We pulled out of Schenectady before dawn and got to Cambridge around noon. When we pulled into the driveway off Linnaean Street, Susan was sitting on the front steps of the big, five-colored painted-lady Victorian house where she lived and worked. As I got out of the car I said 'Oh boy' to myself, which was what I always said, or some variation of that, whenever I saw her. Thick black hair, very big blue eyes, wide mouth, slim, in shape, great thighs, plus an indefinable hint of sensuality. She radiated a kind of excitement, the possibility of infinite promise. It wasn't just me. Most people seemed to feel that spending time with Susan would be an adventure.
'Omigod,' Susan said when Robin Hood's Purple Sandpiper and I got out of the car.
Susan's yard was fenced. I opened the front gate and closed it behind us and unhooked the dog from her leash. She was uneasy.
Susan said, 'Pearl.'
The dog pricked her long ears a little. Then she ran around Susan's smallish front yard in a random way as if she were trying to find a point of stable reference. Finally she decided that I was her oldest friend outside Canada and came over to me and leaned in against my leg for emotional support.
Susan watched her with the full-focus concentration that made her such a good therapist. If she concentrated on something long enough, it would begin to smolder.
'Pearl?' Susan said.
The dog looked at her carefully and wagged her tail tentatively. Susan nodded slowly.
'She's back,' Susan said.
'Yes,' I said. 'She just doesn't know it yet.'
Susan crouched at the foot of her stairs and opened her arms.
'Pearl,' she said again.
The dog walked to Susan and sniffed her. Susan put her cheek against the dog's muzzle and patted the dog's head.
'She'll know it soon,' Susan said.
8
I was in the lobby of the New Federal Courthouse on Fan Pier. 'International Consulting Bureau,' I said. I gave my card to the guard and he looked at it, then checked his computer screen.
'Whom do you wish to speak with there?'
'Whom?'
The guard looked up at me and grinned. 'It's the training program they give us,' he said.
'I wish to speak with Mr. Ives,' I said. He nodded, punched up a number, and spoke into the phone.
'Mr. Spenser to see Mr. Ives.'
He nodded and hung up.
'Over there,' he said, 'through the metal detector, take the elevator to the fifteenth floor.'
'There a room number?' I said.
'Someone will meet you at the elevator, sir.'
'Of course,' I said.
At the security barrier there were four guards from the Federal Protection Service.
'I have a gun on my right hip,' I said to them. 'I'm going to unclip it and hand it to you, holster and all.'
The guards spread out slightly and two of them rested hands on their holstered guns. The head guard was a black man who looked like retired military.
'And do you have a permit, sir?'
'I do.'
'First the gun, then the permit,' he said.
I handed him the holstered gun, then I took my permit from my shirt pocket where I had put it in anticipation of this moment. The head guard read it carefully.
'We'll hang on to the gun and the permit,' he said. 'You can pick them up on the way out.'
'You're asking me to risk the federal courthouse unarmed?' I said.
The guard's face stayed serious.
