Текст книги "Sea Change"

Автор книги: Robert B. Parker

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Текущая страница: 7 (всего у книги 10 страниц)

“Hard,” Jesse said.

“Hardest thing in the world, I think. Guys like us,” Healy said, “are not chit-chat guys. Closed in a little, maybe.”

Healy sipped whiskey, and sat a minute as it settled in.

“And the only people we know how to talk with is the women we marry,” he said.

“I know,” Jesse said.

“Then the marriage breaks up, and you need somebody to talk with more than you ever have and she’s the only one you can’t talk with. . . . Makes for a lot of guys alone with a bottle of vodka.”

“That’s why they have shrinks,” Jesse said.

“Lot of cops don’t do shrinks.”

“I do,” Jesse said.

“Which is maybe,” Healy said, “why she’s back in the house.”

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39

J enn’s dressing room was in the back part of a trailer, the remainder of which served as a production office.

“Just like a movie star,” Jesse said.

He sat on the little built-in banquette while Jenn took off her camera makeup.

“Big production budget,” Jenn said. “This isn’t just Channel Three. This is Allied Broadcasting, which owns five other stations in big markets all across the country. New York, Chicago, L.A. This is like national.”

Jenn washed her face carefully in the small bathroom, and S E A C H A N G E

came out and dried carefully, and began to reapply her own makeup.

“Why not just leave the other makeup on?” Jesse said.

Jenn glanced at him in the mirror.

“Don’t be silly,” she said.

“Just asking,” Jesse said.

Jenn leaned very close to the mirror as she worked on her face.

“When I get through,” she said, “I have something really interesting to show you. You know what B roll is?”

“Sure, second unit. No stars or anything, just the director and a camera guy getting background stuff.”

“Second unit,” Jenn said. “I forget you worked all those years in L.A.”

“Everybody in L.A. knows second unit,” Jesse said. “Hell I can even say mise-en-scène.”

“But can you define it?” Jenn said.

“Nope. I left L.A. before I learned that part.”

Jenn put her lip gloss on and leaned back a little and looked at herself in the mirror. Then she leaned very close and looked. Then back for one more medium-range look and turned toward him.

“Check this out,” Jenn said.

She put a cassette in the built-in VCR and pressed play. It was raw film, taken on board several yachts in Paradise Harbor. Jesse watched silently. There was no dialogue.

“I was looking at some of the B roll,” Jenn said. “Marty’s 1 8 7

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great. She wants my input on everything. And I saw something that I thought would interest you.”

“You want to say what?”

“You’ll see,” Jenn said.

Jesse watched silently. The scenes jerked from one to another without transition.

“Yo!” Jesse said.

Jenn stopped the tape and rewound it, and played it again.

“Yo,” Jesse said.

“See him?” Jenn said.

“From the Florence Horvath sex tape,” Jesse said.

“Part of the fuck sandwich,” Jenn said. “The one on top, I think.”

“And you recognized him,” Jesse said.

“I did.”

“You must have been paying closer attention to that tape than I thought,” Jesse said.

“I’m naturally observant,” Jenn said. “You recognized him, too.”

“I’m supposed to,” Jesse said. “Was this a test?”

Jenn smiled. “I guess it was. I guess I would have kind of liked it if you’d missed him and I had to point him out.”

“Glad I passed,” Jesse said.

“Well,” Jenn said after a pause, “I guess I am, too.”

“Sign of love,” Jesse said.

“Yes.”

“You know where the tape was made?” Jesse said.

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S E A C H A N G E

“Everything’s labeled,” Jenn said. “So when we get in the editing room, we have some idea of what we’re doing.”

“Clever,” Jesse said. “And the location is?”

“Sea Cloud,” Jenn said. “Yesterday. Contact Thomas Ralston.”

“Yesterday,” Jesse said.

Jenn nodded.

“We always date everything,” Jenn said.

“The sonovabitch is still here,” Jesse said.

Jenn shrugged.

“I need a copy of that tape,” Jesse said.

“Take it,” Jenn said. “I had them dupe it for you.”

“Christ,” Jesse said. “Maybe you should be chief of police.”

“What,” Jenn said. “And give up show business?”

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40

H is name was Eric Jurgen. Suitcase Simpson and Arthur Angstrom went out to the SeaCloud and got him.

“Thanks for coming in, Mr. Jurgen,” Jesse said.

“I try to obey the police,” Jurgen answered.

He spoke with a faint accent.

“Are you foreign born, Mr. Jurgen?” Jesse said.

“I am Austrian,” Jurgen said. “Is there a problem?”

“You are a crewman on the Sea Cloud, ” Jesse said.

“Yes sir.”

“Do you know Florence Horvath?”

S E A C H A N G E

Jurgen smiled. “Florence,” he said. “Yes. I am very sorry to hear that she died.”

“How did you know her?”

“She was with Mr. Darnell when I worked on the Lady Jane. ”

“With Mr. Darnell?”

“You know, like his girlfriend.”

“Didn’t Mr. Darnell have several girlfriends?” Jesse said.

Again Jurgen smiled.

“Yes sir,” Jurgen said. “Many. But Florence was . . . she was like the head girlfriend.”

“I have a copy of a videotape,” Jesse said, “which shows you and another man having simultaneous sex with Florence Horvath.”

“Oh,” Jurgen said. “Oh my. You have that tape.”

“I do,” Jesse said.

“Have I broken the law?” Jurgen said.

“No,” Jesse said. “I’d just like you to tell me a little about the tape, if you would.”

“I . . . I do not know what to tell you,” Jurgen said. “I have done that never before.”

“Had sex for the camera?”

“No, that either,” Jurgen said. “But I have never shared a woman. It is very embarrassing.”

“Who’s the other guy?”

“My brother.”

“His name is Jurgen, too?”

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“Yes. Konrad.”

“How’d the tape come about?”

“Florence wanted to make it.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know. She was living on the boat. We were crew.

Everyone else was ashore.”

“Darnell there?”

“God, no. I could not do that in front of another man.”

“Except your brother.”

“That is different,” Jurgen said.

“Where were you moored?”

“Fort Lauderdale.”

“Who took the pictures,” Jesse said.

“Her sisters.”

“Florence Horvath’s sisters,” Jesse said.

“Yes.”

“Corliss and Claudia Plum.”

“I think so, I don’t really remember the names very well but that sounds as if it is correct.”

“And this was Florence’s idea.”

“The whole thing,” Jurgen said.

“She approached my brother and myself,” Jurgen said.

“We were embarrassed. But we are brothers. I could not do such a thing with a stranger.”

“How about the Plum sisters?”

“Oh, yes. We didn’t know them. But they were not, ah, actively involved, if you see what I mean. And besides, they were girls. I wouldn’t want another man watching.”

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S E A C H A N G E

They were quiet. Jurgen sat obediently, waiting for another question.

“Anyone enjoy this pig pile?” Jesse said.

“Well, it was . . . different,” Jurgen said. “If a man crews on this yacht circuit, he gets a lot of sex. It’s pretty routine after a while. This was . . .”

He rolled his right hand as he tried to think of the right word.

“It was unusual,” he said.

“How about Florence?”

“I guess she liked it,” Jurgen said. “She was quite interested in the filming, though.”

“And you did this because she asked you.”

“Yes. I liked Florence. Kon, my brother, and I both liked her.”

“She pay you?”

“No sir, absolutely not, sir. She did not pay us anything.”

“No offense,” Jesse said. “You have any idea how she died?”

“No sir.”

“Where’s your brother?”

“In the Caribbean, sir. On Mr. Damon’s boat.”

“Where’s Mr. Damon from?”

“Boat’s out of Miami, sir. I don’t know if Mr. Damon lives there.”

“First name?”

“Mr. Damon? I don’t know, sir.”

“And where do you live when you’re not on a boat?”

“Miami, sir. Kon and I have a condo.”

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Jesse pushed a pad of paper toward Jurgen.

“Write down the address,” Jesse said.

Jurgen did. Jesse took the pad back and looked at it.

“Gimme your driver’s license,” Jesse said.

Jurgen produced it and Jesse compared addresses. They were the same. Jesse gave the license back and grinned at Jurgen.

“Suspicious by nature,” Jesse said.

“That is fine, sir. I know you have a job to do.”

Jesse nodded.

“I’d like it if you didn’t talk about this conversation.”

“They will ask me, sir.”

“Tell them it was routine. I simply asked you if you’d observed anything unusual on board.”

“My God, sir . . .”

Jesse put up his hand.

“Just say you told me no.”

Jurgen smiled.

“If you say so, sir,” he said.

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41

J esse had a drink with Rita Fiore at the Seaport Hotel on the South Boston harbor-front.

“Thanks for coming out here through the Big fucking Dig,” Rita said. “But I’ve been in federal court most of the day and needed a double martini immediately after.”

“Glad to oblige,” Jesse said.

“You drinking Coke?”

“Yes.”

“On the wagon?”

“Eleven months,” Jesse said.

“Eek,” Rita said.

R O B E R T B . P A R K E R

She drank some of her martini.

“That’s like the last time I saw you,” she said.

“I stopped shortly after.”

“Scared you sober, huh?”

Jesse smiled.

“There were other issues,” he said.

“Yeah. I know. Like the ex-wifey-do.”

“She would be one,” Jesse said.

“How you and she doing.”

Jesse held up crossed fingers.

“We’re living together at the moment.”

“Oh,” Rita said, “how nice for you.”

“Aw, come on,” Jesse said. “You and I weren’t going any -

where.”

“Maybe you weren’t,” Rita said.

“You were?”

“Seemed like a good idea at the time,” Rita said.

Jesse didn’t say anything. Rita wore her thick copper hair long. She was wearing a short skirt, and sitting sideways on the bar stool with her legs crossed. Jesse studied her for a moment. Rita watched him and raised her eyebrows.

“You would be a good idea,” Jesse said. “Anytime.”

“But not a keeper,” Rita said.

Jesse smiled and didn’t answer. Rita gestured to the bar -

tender for another martini. She turned back toward Jesse and smiled widely.

“Okay, so you’re not here to propose,” she said.

“I sent a couple of sisters to you awhile ago,” Jesse said.

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“The Plum twins,” Rita said.

“Anything work out?” Jesse said.

“Hey, you think just because you got my clothes off a cou -

ple of times, I’ll betray professional confidences?”

“I was hoping,” Jesse said.

“Actually they didn’t employ me. I have no obligations to them. They wanted help finding out who killed their sister.”

Jesse nodded.

“I sent them to a guy I know. But it didn’t work out.”

“They see him at all?”

“Yes,” Rita said. “But they didn’t tell him anything and when he asked them stuff they were evasive, so he told them to blow.”

“Excuse me?” Jesse said.

“In a manner of speaking,” Rita said.

“They say anything to you?” Jesse said.

“I think they were worried that you are a small-town doofus,” Rita said, “rather than a high-powered urban hotshot . . . like, say, me.”

“Anything else?”

“I’d say their combined intelligence is about that of a mud puddle.”

Jesse nodded.

“They told me they were staying at the Four Seasons,” he said.

“Yep. That’s what they told me.”

“Too bad they didn’t hook up with your guy.”

Rita shook her head.

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“He wouldn’t have told you anything. He’s a very hard case.”

“Just right for you,” Jesse said.

Rita shook her head slowly.

“Fat chance,” she said. “He’s in love with a shrink.”

“Probably handy to have one in house,” Jesse said.

“Certainly would cut down on the travel time,” Rita said.

“What’s your interest in the Plum girls?”

“They might be a little less innocent in all this than they claim.”

“But no smarter.”

“God, no,” Jesse said.

“Tell me,” Rita said.

Jesse drank some of his Coke.

“All of it?” he said.

“Keep you talking,” Rita said, “you may weaken.”

“Especially if you ply me with Coca-Cola,” Jesse said.

“Have another,” Rita said.

They both smiled. And Jesse told her what he knew about the death of Florence Horvath. When Rita listened, Jesse noticed, the sexual challenge left her face.

“Wow,” she said when Jesse was through.

“Yeah,” Jesse said.

“I’ve been a prosecutor,” Rita said, “and a defense attorney. I’ve been on one side or another of criminal law all my adult life.”

Jesse nodded.

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S E A C H A N G E

“I have also probably slept with more men than you’ve arrested.”

“And I’m a good cop,” Jesse said.

“And I’m shocked.”

“Yeah,” Jesse said. “It’s pretty bad.”

“It’s disgusting,” Rita said.

“But only some of it is illegal,” Jesse said.

“Enough of it,” Rita said. “These aren’t people society has abandoned. They didn’t grow up with no parents in some goddamned project someplace. They’re not victims of racism, or class contempt or poverty. They have no excuse for being trash.”

“True,” Jesse said.

“This is bothering the hell out of me,” Rita said. “And I’m not even involved.”

“I know,” Jesse said.

“Doesn’t it bother you? The obsession with sex, devoid of affection? The exploitation of young girls? The . . .” Rita waved her hands. “The lack of any feeling anywhere among any of these fucking automatons?”

“I have my own problems with it,” Jesse said. “But I try not to let it interfere with the work.”

Rita sat back a little on the bar stool and looked at Jesse and nodded slowly.

“And,” she said, “you haven’t had two martinis on an empty stomach.”

“Sadly, no,” Jesse said.

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42

J esse sat with the Plum twins on a bench in the Public Garden, across from the hotel, near the Swan Boats.

“Our room is such a mess,” Corliss said.

“The maid hasn’t cleaned up yet,” Claudia said.

“This is fine,” Jesse said. “Right here.”

“What would be a trip,” Corliss said, “would be to get high and take a ride on those boats.”

“At night,” Claudia said.

“You took the pictures of your sister and the two men,”

Jesse said.

“Whaa?” Corliss said.

S E A C H A N G E

“You took the threesome video of your sister.”

“We did not,” Claudia said.

“Not,” Corliss said.

“Yeah,” Jesse said. “Eric already told me, and Kon will say so as well.”

“How do you know Eric?” Corliss said.

“I’m the chief of police,” Jesse said. “I know everything.”

“You know Konrad?” Claudia said.

Jesse smiled.

“So what’s up with that?” he said.

Both of them giggled. Jesse wasn’t sure at what. Maybe that was a Plum family technique. When in doubt, giggle.

He waited. They looked at each other.

“Flo,” Corliss said. “Flo asked us to.”

“On Darnell’s boat,” Jesse said.

“Ohh, you know that,” Claudia said.

Jesse nodded. No one said anything. Full of adults and children, the Swan Boats elegantly pedaled their slow circuit of the pond.

“Flo wanted us to do it that way,” Corliss said.

They seemed to speak with instinctive deference to each other’s turn.

“Why?” Jesse said.

Again the girls looked at each other. “She wanted to jerk Harry’s chain,” Claudia said.

“Harry?”

“Harrison,” Corliss said.

“Darnell,” Jesse said.

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Both girls nodded.

“Because?”

“Because he dumped her,” Claudia said.

“She was his girlfriend?” Jesse said.

Both girls laughed.

“Aren’t you funny,” Corliss said.

“What was their relationship?” Jesse said.

“She was the one, you know,” Claudia said, “the one he kept.”

“And the other women?”

“Entertainment, you know?” Corliss said.

“Like fishing,” Claudia said, “or skeet, or bridge.”

“And Florence didn’t mind them?”

“Not as long as she had her place,” Corliss said.

“Which was?” Jesse said.

“Head nigger,” Claudia said.

Both girls giggled again.

“But Darnell reorganized?” Jesse said.

“He dumped her,” Corliss said. “For Blondie Martin.”

“And Florence took this video on his boat to make him jealous?” Jesse said.

“She would never do it with him,” Claudia said.

“Harrison was always after her to go with him and Tommy Ralston,” Corliss said.

“But she wouldn’t.”

“No. But when he dumped her . . .”

“She done it with a couple of former crew guys, and sent him the tape.”

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S E A C H A N G E

“To make him jealous.”

“Yeah.”

“Did it work?”

“He sent for her,” Corliss said. “Flew her up to Boston.”

“There’s no record of her flying to Boston,” Jesse said.

“He had his pilot fly her up in his private plane.”

“When?”

“Beginning of June,” Corliss said.

“She told us he was up here early for Race Week and she was going to join him.”

“What is the pilot’s name?” Jesse said.

The sisters looked at each other. They both shrugged.

“Larry,” Corliss said.

“Last name?”

They both shook their heads.

“Just Larry is all we ever knew,” Claudia said.

They watched the Swan Boats for a time. Some squirrels darted among the attendant pigeons, hoping for a peanut.

“So how come you didn’t tell me any of this before?” Jesse said.

Both sisters shrugged.

“I guess we thought you’d be mad,” Corliss said.

“Mad?”

“You know, about us sneaking on the boat and taking the pictures. We were afraid you’d say something to Willis and Betsy,” Claudia said.

“Your parents?”

“Yes.”

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“Why do you care?” Jesse said.

“They still got some control of our trust funds.”

“Of course,” Jesse said. “So why’d you come up here and see me?”

“We liked Flo. We felt bad about her.”

“And you wanted to know what I knew,” Jesse said. “For fear it might come out.”

“If someone hurt Flo,” Claudia said, “we wanted to know.

We wanted to help.”

“So you set up headquarters here,” Jesse said, glancing behind him at the hotel, “and began to ferret out the truth.”

“We’re having a pretty good time here,” Corliss said. “You ever do two guys and a woman?”

“No.”

“We like two women and a guy,” Claudia said, and pressed her breast against Jesse’s left shoulder.

It had no part in the investigation. The question wasn’t professional. But Jesse couldn’t help it.

“Ever think about love?” Jesse said.

The twins stared at him for a time and then giggled.

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43

Leaning their backsides against the trunk of her car, Kelly Cruz and Larry Barnes stood and talked and watched the private planes land and take off from Fort Lauderdale Executive Airport.

“You flew Florence Horvath up to Boston,” Kelly Cruz said, “in June.”

“Yeah, sure, I remember, last month.”

“That would be June,” Kelly Cruz said.

Barnes grinned at her. He had a thick black mustache and longish hair and big aviator glasses and a short-sleeved white shirt. And his big silver wristwatch looked complex. Neatly R O B E R T B . P A R K E R

across his right forearm just above the wrist was a tattoo that read bad news.

“Tell me about the trip,” Kelly Cruz said.

“Mr. Darnell called, said he wanted me to bring her up.

Told me she’d be in touch to arrange the schedule.”

“Darnell often do this?”

Barnes’s face didn’t change, but somehow Kelly Cruz knew he was amused.

“Often,” he said.

“With different women?”

“Often,” Barnes said.

“Anything unusual about this flight?”

“She required Cristal on ice instead of Krug.”

“What was Florence Horvath like?” Kelly Cruz said.

Barnes looked at her and she knew he was even more amused.

“How much of this is on the record,” Barnes said.

“Only the questions of fact. Did you take her? When? At whose request? Your opinions are between me and you.”

Barnes nodded.

“She was like about two hundred other bimbettes I’ve transported,” Barnes said. “Blond, stupid, sure she was sexy.

Asked me if I had ever done it at thirty thousand feet.”

Kelly Cruz nodded.

“And you left her in Boston,” she said.

“Private terminal. Carried her bags in for her. She was pretty well fried. Gave her to the limo driver. Got the plane serviced, refueled, came on home.”

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S E A C H A N G E

“Happen to know what limo company?”

Barnes shook his head.

“Nope. Just a limo guy with a sign,” he said.

“And you never went back to get her,” Kelly Cruz said.

“No. I usually didn’t. Most of the babes were one-way. I’d fly them someplace and Mr. Darnell would sail them home.”

“Know anybody named Thomas Ralston?”

“Fat guy, thinks he looks better than he does?”

“I don’t know,” Kelly Cruz said. “I’ve never seen him. I’m helping out some police up north.”

“What is this all about, anyway?” Barnes said.

Kelly Cruz smiled.

“So you know Thomas Ralston?”

“Yeah, sure, I think so. Mr. Ralston. He flies a lot with Mr.

Darnell.”

“Where?”

“Ports usually. Crew sails the boat somewhere and Darnell meets them there. I guess Ralston has the same deal. I never asked.”

“Did you fly either of them up to Boston?” Kelly Cruz said.

“Not this year.”

“Anyone fly with them?”

“Usual bevy of beauties,” Barnes said. “They get drunk.

Do some dope.”

“Sex?”

He shrugged and gestured.

“I stay up front,” he said. “But yeah, I’d say quite a lot.”

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“And you know this how?”

Barnes looked at her for a moment with the expressionless hint of humor that he projected.

“Ah, trace evidence,” he said.

“Thank you,” Kelly Cruz said, and closed her notebook.

“What’d they do up north?” Barnes said.

Kelly Cruz took a card out of her purse, and gave it to him.

“Florence Horvath died up there under unusual circumstances,” she said. “You think of anything interesting, call me.”

Barnes took the card.

“They think Darnell killed her?”

“I don’t know what their theory of the case is,” Kelly Cruz said. “I’m just asking questions for them.”

“Actually, I’m thinking of something sort of interesting right now,” he said.

“Not at thirty thousand feet,” Kelly Cruz said.

“’Course not,” Barnes said. “Who’s going to fly the plane?”

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44

J esse and Molly sat at the conference table in the squad room. The sound of shout-ing and loud bad singing came from the

four-cell jail wing.

“Hark,” Jesse said.

“Drunk and disorderly,” Molly said. “On Front Street.”

“Today?”

“Un-huh.”

Jesse looked at his watch.

“It’s ten in the morning,” he said.

“No time to waste,” Molly said.

R O B E R T B . P A R K E R

Jesse nodded. Molly had a big yellow legal-sized pad of blue-lined paper in front of her.

“Okay,” he said. “Here’s what we’ve got. We know Florence Horvath was alive when she came up here first week in June. We can probably pin that down exactly if we need to.”

Molly made a note. Jesse stood and walked the length of the squad room and looked out the back window at the Public Works garage behind the station.

“And we know she was dead when she washed ashore the beginning of Race Week.”

“July twelfth,” Molly said.

“ME says she’s been in the water at least a couple weeks, maybe longer,” Jesse said. “She was alive when she went in the water, but exact cause of death is uncertain due to the ratty condition of the body.”

“You have to say ratty?”

Jesse turned and walked back the length of the room.

“We know she came up here at Darnell’s request, and on his dime. We know she knew Thomas Ralston. We know Ralston and Darnell are connected and a lot tighter than either would admit. Everybody has lied about who they know.

We know that Florence made the sex video with the two guys who used to work on Darnell’s boat. We know her twin sisters took the video. They said she told them that it was to make Darnell jealous because he had dumped her in favor of Blondie Martin. We know, because we checked the harbor registry, that both Darnell’s boat and Ralston’s boat were here in early June.”

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Jesse turned and walked back toward the window.

“So where’s the video,” Molly said.

Jesse stopped.

“The video?”

“She must have sent it to him,” Molly said. “What happened to it?”

“Destroyed it,” Jesse said. “It was incriminating to have, and he didn’t know there were other copies. We know that there’s some kind of high-tech sex thing going on between Ralston and Darnell. And we know they have recruited local, and very young, talent.”

“This is probably not the only place,” Molly said.

“Probably not. We’ll see if Healy can help us with that.”

Jesse continued to look at the Public Works garage.

Along one side of the garage, snowplow blades were lined up, waiting for winter. They looked like the skeletal remains of extinct beasts in the hot summer sun.

“We know both Darnell and Ralston have committed statutory rape,” he said. “And we’re pretty sure we can convict them. Darnell for sure. We’ve got him on tape. Ralston too if the kid will hold up in court.”

“And none of this tells us if either or both of them murdered Florence Horvath,” Molly said.

“Sad but true,” Jesse said.

He turned and began the trip back up the room toward Molly.

“In fact,” Molly said, “we can’t really prove that she was murdered at all.”

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R O B E R T B . P A R K E R

“She was murdered and Darnell was involved,” Jesse said.

“How about Ralston?”

“Yes,” Jesse said.

“Him, too?”

“Yes.”

“You’re so sure,” Molly said.

“I know them,” Jesse said. “I understand them. Darnell and Ralston killed her.”

“Together?”

“Don’t know.”

“But you know they did.”

“Yes,” Jesse said.

He was standing beside Molly. She looked up at him.

“Intuition?” she said.

“I’ve been a cop for a long time,” Jesse said.

“There’s something else,” Molly said.

She had turned in her chair and was facing Jesse, looking up at him as he stood in front of her.

“Maybe I’m a little bit like them,” Jesse said.

“The hell you are,” Molly said.

Jesse shrugged.

“I mean it,” Molly said. “You are in no way like either of those two scumbags.”

“Scumbags?” Jesse said. “Strong language for a Catholic girl.”

“Scumbags,” Molly said, “all of them. The men, the women, the damned victim. All of them. After I just talk about them, for God’s sake, I feel like I should take a long shower.”

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“We do know more about them than anyone would want,”

Jesse said. “That’s how murder investigations sometimes go.

You accumulate evidence and accumulate evidence and a lot of it makes you want to puke and most of it doesn’t solve your case.”

“So how are you going to solve this one?”

“Same old way,” Jesse said. “Keep asking. Keep pushing.

Try to scare them. Maybe somebody will roll on somebody.

Maybe somebody will do something stupid.”

“Little hard to get somebody to roll on a murder rap by threatening them with stat rape,” Molly said.

“You might if you were willing to let one of them walk,”

Jesse said.

“Are you?”

“No,” Jesse said.

“Accomplice testimony doesn’t get you anything in court, anyway,” Molly said.

Jesse sat on the edge of the conference table near Molly.

“Doesn’t matter,” Jesse said. “I’m going to get them both.”

They were quiet. Molly doodled a frowning happy face on her yellow pad. Jesse sat on the table edge and let his feet swing.

“You and Jenn okay?” Molly said.

“Yes.”

“Living together is okay?”

“Yes.”

“So far.”

2 1 3

R O B E R T B . P A R K E R

“God, you’re cautious about this,” Molly said.

“I worry that I’ll do it again,” Jesse said.

“Do what?”

“Whatever drove her away last time.”

“Maybe she did something,” Molly said.

“I mean I know she did things, cheated on me and stuff, but what did I do to cause it.”

“Maybe nothing,” Molly said. “Maybe it was her fault.”

Jesse shook his head.

“Course,” Molly said. “If it’s her fault you got no control over it. Your fault, you do. You can be very careful.”

Jesse continued to look out the window.

After a time he said, “Thanks, Molly.”

And Molly left.

2 1 4

45

W hen I’m stuck,” Healy said, “I go over it.”

“All of it,” Jesse said.

“Start at page one of my notebook and

go page by page all the way through.”

It was Sunday. They were on his balcony looking at the harbor. Healy had a can of beer. Jesse was drinking Coke.

Jenn was in the production office looking at videotape. On the floor of the patio a thick-bodied, middle-aged Welsh corgi lay on his side, his eyes closed, his nose pointed at the ocean. Jesse had put a soup bowl full of water near him. The soup bowl was white with a blue line around the rim.

R O B E R T B . P A R K E R

“I know,” Jesse said.

“But you don’t want to,” Healy said.

“I don’t.”

“I’ll do it with you,” Healy said. “A second set of ears.”

“On a Sunday?”

“Sure.”

“It’ll take all day.”

“Not a problem,” Healy said.

“Something bad going on at your house?” Jesse said.

“My wife’s younger brother is visiting with his wife,”

Healy said. “They have young children.”

“You don’t care for young children.”

“Neither one of us,” Healy said. “But it’s her brother.”

“And the dog?”

“They annoy the hell out of Buck,” Healy said. “When he can, he bites them.”

“So it wasn’t all about helping me when you dropped by.”

“It was nothing about that,” Healy said. “Why don’t you get your notebook.”

Jesse went to his bedroom and got the notebook and brought it back.

“You want another beer?” he said.

“No,” Healy said. “I’m fine.”

Jesse always marveled at people who could nurse any drink. He had already finished his Coke.

“Okay,” he said. “She washes ashore near the town wharf. . . .”

2 1 6

S E A C H A N G E

And they went through it. Incident by incident. Interview by interview. Day by day.

“Cruz broad sounds pretty good,” Healy said at one point.

Jesse nodded.

“People don’t always work that hard to clear somebody else’s case,” Healy said.

“I think she’s kind of hooked into it,” Jesse said. “Talking to all the people.”

Healy nodded.

“Happens,” he said.

Jesse went on.

“I went aboard when everyone was at the clambake,” he read.

“With a warrant,” Healy said.

Jesse smiled, and didn’t say anything.

“Okay,” Healy said. “No warrant. I, of course, don’t know that and never thought to ask.”

“Absolutely,” Jesse said.

He went on. Healy listened. At one point Buck got up and drank water loudly from the blue-rimmed soup bowl.

When he was through he went back to where had been, turned around twice and reassumed his position, with his nose pointed seaward.

“The twins told their parents they were in Europe,” Jesse said. “But they were actually in Sag Harbor, New York, with some guy named Carlos Coca.”

“You check that?” Healy said.

2 1 7

R O B E R T B . P A R K E R

“No.”

“There’s a loose end,” Healy said.

“Here’s another one,” Jesse said. “They say they learned of their sister’s death from someone named Kimmy Young.”

“Haven’t checked her out, either,” Healy said.

“No.”

“Happens,” Healy said.

“Shouldn’t,” Jesse said.

Healy shrugged.

“Where’s Kimmy Young from?”

“Don’t know,” Jesse said. “I assume South Florida.”

“I’ll bet Kelly Cruz can find her,” Healy said.

Jesse nodded. He went back to the notes. It was late afternoon when they finished. Jesse had drunk four Cokes. Healy had nearly finished his beer.

“You don’t like to drink?” Jesse said when he picked up the can and found it not quite empty.

“I like to drink,” Healy said. “But I only like to drink a small amount.”

“Hard to imagine,” Jesse said.

“Never liked being drunk,” Healy said.

Jesse nodded. Jenn came in through the front door and walked to the balcony. Buck raised his head, looked at her carefully and put his head back down. Jenn saw Healy’s beer can. Jesse saw her eyes flick to him. She saw the Coca-Cola can.