Текст книги "Stone cold"

Автор книги: Robert B. Parker

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controlled substance in the back of the bus,” Molly said.

Jesse was silent for a moment.

Then he said, “When you get to school, arrest him.

I’ll have

Suit meet the bus.”

“Okeydokey,” Molly said.

“Aren’t you supposed to say something like

‘roger that,’” Jesse

said.

“I like okeydokey,” Molly said, and smiled and shut off the

phone.

The bus pulled into the circular driveway in front of the high school and the kids got off. Bo stayed until last, smoking his joint, and pinched it out when there was no one else on the bus. He dropped the roach in his shirt pocket, swung his feet contemptuously off the seat, and stood.

As he got off the bus, the lady bus driver said,

“Hold it there

for a minute, Bo.”

He stared at her.

“Hold what?” he said.

The lady bus driver took a badge out of her purse and showed it

to him.

“I observed you using a controlled

substance,” Molly said. “We’d

like you to come down to the station.”

Bo stared at her. Peripherally he saw the janitor that everybody

knew was a cop walking toward the bus.

“A what?”

“A controlled substance. You were observed smoking a joint on

the bus. The snipe is still in your shirt pocket.”

“You’re fucking crazy,” Bo said.

“We can go in my car,” Molly said.

“It’s parked over

here.”

“Fuck you, lady,” Bo said.

He started to walk past her. Molly stepped in his way.

“Don’t make me arrest you,”

Molly said.

“You?” Bo said. “Get out of my

way or I’ll fuck

you.”

He tried to move past her again, and again Molly blocked him.

Bo

covered her left breast with his right hand and shoved her out of the way. Molly took a canister from her purse and sprayed him in the face. Bo made a sound that might have been a scream and clasped his hands to his face.

“Ow,” he said. “Jesus Christ,

ow, ow! You fucking blinded

me.”

Molly put the Mace away, took her handcuffs and snapped a cuff on Bo’s left wrist. Suit came around the front of the bus in his

janitor’s outfit and pulled Bo’s right hand down, and together they

cuffed him.

Red-eyed, coughing, and head down, Bo was dragged into Jesse’s

office and put in a chair.

“My eyes are killing me,” he said.

“I need something for my

eyes. The bitch sprayed me for no reason. Gimme something for my eyes. My father’s gonna sue your ass.”

“Uncuff him,” Jesse said. “And

leave him with

me.”

Molly took the cuffs off and put them in her purse. Bo immediately began to rub his eyes.

“It’ll stop in a while,” Jesse

said. “Rubbing them won’t help.

We’ll go down and wash them.”

Molly put a bag on Jesse’s desk.

“When we arrested him,” Simpson said,

“naturally, we patted him

down for concealed weapons. Found this in his backpack.”

Bo stopped coughing just long enough to say,

“That’s not mine,

the bastards planted that.”

“Be my guess that there’s enough

here,” Molly said, “to support

possession with intent.”

“Wouldn’t be surprised,” Jesse

said. “Anything

else?”

“No weapon,” Simpson said. “But

we didn’t look at

everything.”

Simpson put Bo’s backpack on top of the file cabinet next to the

window behind Jesse’s desk.

“You guys may as well go back to what you were doing,” Jesse

said.

“Cover’s pretty well blown,”

Molly said.

“Stay on it anyway,” Jesse said.

“I never had any cover to start with,”

Simpson

said.

Molly and Simpson went out. Jesse sat quietly looking at Bo.

“I need something for my eyes,” Bo said between coughs. “I need

a doctor.”

Jesse didn’t say anything for a while. Then he stood.

“Okay, let’s go wash you off,”

he said.

Rinsed and dried, Bo was still red-eyed and puffy-looking, and he still coughed sporadically.

“You call my father?” Bo said.

“We’re working on it,” Jesse

said. “Right now we got you on

possession of a controlled substance with intent to sell, failure to obey a lawful command, threatening a police officer, assaulting a police officer, and being a general major-league fucking jerk.”

“That bitch can’t get away with spraying me like that,” Bo

said.

Jesse smiled. He didn’t say anything. Bo sat in the chair across

the desk staring hard at Jesse.

“So you gonna arrest me?” he said.

“Or what?”

Jesse didn’t answer him. Bo stood up.

“Fuck this,” he said.

“I’m walking out of here.”

“Nope,” Jesse said.

“You think you can stop me?” Bo said.

Jesse laughed. “Of course I can stop you,”

he said. “For

crissake a hundred-and-twenty-pound woman hauled you in here in handcuffs.”

“If you weren’t a cop

…”

“But I am a cop,” Jesse said.

“Sit down.”

Jesse’s voice was still pleasant, but there was a sudden

undertone in it that made Bo uncomfortable. He didn’t want to sit

down. He tried looking hard at Jesse. If Jesse noticed, it didn’t

show. Bo sat down. Jesse picked up the backpack and put it on the desk in front of him and dumped it out. He looked at what he had. A notebook, three ballpoint pens, some Kleenex, a packet of condoms, a ruler, a protractor, two packs of spearmint gum, and a white envelope. He opened the envelope and found four prints of Candace Pennington, lying naked on the ground. Bingo! Her face was

distorted by crying, someone out of the picture was holding her ankles, and Kevin Feeney was holding her wrists. Feeney was smiling. Jesse looked carefully at each print, then he put them faceup on his desk, facing toward Bo, and smiled at him and waited.

Bo didn’t look at the pictures. Jesse let the silence thicken.

Then he said, “Who’s the young

lady?”

“I don’t know,” Bo said.

“I found them pictures.”

“And the young gentleman?”

“I told you, I dunno. I found them.”

“Where?”

“In the school library, somebody musta dropped them.”

“The young lady looks like she’s

crying,” Jesse

said.

“You know how broads are, sometimes they cry after you fuck

them.”

“Really? And it seems that the young gentleman is restraining

her.”

“I don’t know,” Bo said.

“You don’t know what?”

“I don’t know nothing about that

picture.”

Arthur Angstrom opened Jesse’s door.

“Kid’s father is here,” he said.

Jesse nodded.

“He’s got Abby Taylor with him,”

Arthur said.

“Lawyer to the rescue,” Jesse said.

“Send them

in.”

26

Joe Marino was a large self-made man in an expensive suit that was a little tight for him.

“What the hell is going on here,” he said when he came into the

office.

“I didn’t do nothing, Dad,” Bo

Marino said.

“Shut up,” his father said.

“I’ll take care of

this.”

Jesse smiled at Abby Taylor, who had come in with Marino. She was dark-haired and good-looking, wearing a well-fitted suit with a short skirt.

“Hello, Abby,” Jesse said. “How

are you.”

Abby Taylor said, “I’m fine.”

“Hey,” Marino said.

“I’m talking to you.”

Jesse said, “You are.”

“What the hell is going on?”

“This your son?” Jesse said.

“Yes. What do you think I’m doing

here?”

“We’ve arrested him for possession of a controlled substance

with intent to sell, with resisting a lawful order, assault on a police officer, and maybe possession of obscene photographs.”

“Photographs?”

“That’s just a maybe,” Jesse

said.

“Lemme see the photographs,” Marino said.

“Nope,” Jesse said.

“I got a right to confront my accuser,”

Marino

said.

Jesse took in some air and let it out.

“Explain it to him, Abby.”

“Let me see if I can help with this, Mr.

Marino.”

“The bitch sprayed me with Mace,” Bo said.

“Shut up,” Marino said.

Jesse smiled at Abby and didn’t say anything.

“You can release Bo to his father,” Abby said.

Jesse shook his head. “We’ll hold him overnight and take him

over to district court in the morning.”

“Jesse,” Abby said.

“He’s seventeen. He has no previous record.

At most, in this instance, he’s guilty of a few minor lapses in

decorum.”

“He’s a tough kid,” Marino said.

“He stood up for himself like I

always taught him. Nobody pushes me around, I told him. Don’t let

nobody push you around, I told him, don’t take crap from nobody.”

Jesse nodded pleasantly. He was leaning back in his swivel chair, one foot up on the open bottom drawer of his desk, his hands resting motionless on the desktop.

“You’re looking at a fucking police

brutality suit, I’m telling

you that right now.”

Jesse picked up the phone and spoke to Arthur at the front desk.

“Molly still here? Good. Send her in.”

In a moment Molly opened the door and came in.

“This is the cop that roughed up your little boy, Mr.

Marino.”

Marino looked at his son and shook his head disgustedly.

“Jesus Christ,” he said.

“Mr. Marino,” Abby Taylor said.

“It might go better if you let

me talk.”

“Broads,” Marino said and shook his head again.

“Thank you, Officer Crane,” Jesse said.

“You’re welcome, Chief Stone,”

Molly said and turned and left

the room.

“Jesse,” Abby said, “are you

really going to keep this boy

overnight?”

“I am,” Jesse said.

He turned his chair a little and looked at Bo.

“I want you to understand something,”

Jesse said. “You deny

knowing any of the people in those pictures. We will track them down and find out if that is true. If you are lying to us, you’d be

wise to say so now, with your attorney present.”

“I don’t know them,” Bo said.

“Okay, we’ll bring him over to district court first thing,”

Jesse said, “in case you want to be there.”

“Can’t you do something about

this?” Marino said to

Abby.

“Probably not,” Abby said, looking at her watch. “Especially

this late.”

“This is bullshit,” Marino said.

“I’m telling you, make it

happen.”

“Theoretically that’s possible,”

Abby said. “But in fact, at

this hour, I’m not going to find a judge and argue my case and have

him issue a writ, so, I’m sorry, but Bo will have to spend the

night.”

“Dad?”

“You little shit,” Marino said to Jesse.

“I’m not little,” Jesse said.

“I’m just not as fat as

you.”

Marino gave him a long stare.

“You didn’t have that badge,”

Marino said.

“Your kid said the same thing,” Jesse said. “Now unless you want

to spend the night here too, why don’t you and your attorney go

someplace and plan your brutality case.”

“She won’t be my attorney long,”

Marino said. “I’m going to find

somebody with a pair of balls.”

“By which you mean a man,” Abby said.

“Okay, since you asked, yeah. A man. I never seen a broad you

could count on when it was on the line.”

Jesse smiled.

“You’re right,” he said to

Marino, “she won’t be your attorney

long.”

27

Marino had left with Abby, and Bo was in the four-cell lockup in

the back of the station. It was after six and getting dark when Molly came into Jesse’s office with a pizza and a six-pack of Coors. She put the pizza on the desk. She separated out two cans of beer, set them on the desk next to the pizza, and put the rest in the little refrigerator where Jesse kept spring water.

“I know you’re married,” Jesse

said. “But maybe we could have an

affair.”

“I’ll put you on the list,”

Molly said. “You think we’ve got the little prick?”

“Yes,” Jesse said.

He picked up a slice and took a bite.

When he had swallowed, he said, “There’s no real grounds for an

obscenity charge. I don’t think the possession with intent will

stand up, but we should be able to make the case for assaulting a cop. We know he’s lying about the pictures. And now, we can investigate the rape without anyone thinking that Candace squealed on them.”

“Won’t that require Candace to

testify?”

“I don’t know. If we flip one of the other kids, there might be

a plea bargain and she’d never have to appear.”

“Why’d you keep the kid

overnight?” Molly said.

Jesse ate a bite of pizza and drank some beer.

“Because I don’t like him,”

Jesse said.

“How was the father?”

“The tree doesn’t grow too far from the apple,” Jesse

said.

The pizza was made with green peppers and mushrooms.

Jesse’s

favorite. He wondered if it was a coincidence, or if Molly knew. He decided that Molly knew. Molly knew a lot.

“You want me to go get Kevin Feeney?”

Molly said.

Jesse sipped some beer.

“No,” he said. “Not yet. We need

to make it look like we didn’t

know who he was and it took us a couple days to find out.”

“I can’t show those pictures

around,” Molly said.

“Get the Feeney part blown up,” Jesse said. “Eliminate

Candace.”

“Okay.”

“Show them around for a couple days, principal, guidance, a few

teachers and students. When we’re sure the whole school knows we’re

looking for Feeney because we found the pictures, then we’ll pick

him up. Get Suit to help you. Tell him, now that he’s got a legitimate reason to be there, that he can,” Jesse smiled,

“abandon

his disguise.”

“And we don’t mention Candace,”

Molly said.

“No.”

“Ever?”

“I told her I’d keep her out of

it,” Jesse said.

“And you keep your word,” Molly said.

“When I can,” Jesse said.

“When Bo gets out,” Molly said,

“won’t he go right to his

buddies and warn them?”

“Sure,” Jesse said. “But

they’re high school kids living at

home. What are they going to do? Flee the jurisdiction?”

Molly nodded.

“Might even work for us,” Molly said.

“The other two creeps know

we’re after them, it’ll make them jumpy.”

“The jumpier they get,” Jesse said,

“the easier to

flip.”

“And you think you can flip them?”

“My guess?” Jesse said. “All

three.”

28

In a spitting snow, Jesse sat in his car with the motor running

and the heater on, in the parking lot outside Channel 3. He looked at the digital clock on his dashboard. Jenn would have finished her six o’clock weather. He had the wipers on low interval and between

swipes the sporadic snow collected thinly on his windshield. At 6:40 Jenn came out wearing a fake fur jacket and a cowboy hat. She was with a man Jesse didn’t recognize. Jesse sat for a moment listening to his own breathing, feeling his interior self dwindle and intensify. Jenn looked up at the man and laughed and bumped her head against his shoulder. Jesse turned off the motor and got out of the car. He was aware of the gun on his hip, under his jacket.

Jenn saw him.

“Jesse?” she said.

“You didn’t return my calls,”

Jesse said. “I thought I’d catch

you here.”

Jenn looked at him silently for what seemed to Jesse a long time, then she said, “Jesse, this is Bob Mikkleson, our station

manager.”

Bob was tall and healthy-looking, with silver hair combed back carefully, and lovingly sprayed. He started to put his hand out, realized Jesse wasn’t going to shake hands, and put his hand back

at his side.

“I’m sorry,” Jenn said,

“but I’m up to here. You’re on the list, I would have called you tomorrow.”

Jesse nodded and moved slightly closer to Bob. He didn’t know

why, and he hadn’t planned to. There seemed to be a force outside

himself. Jenn was single; she had every right to be with Bob. Bob wasn’t doing anything wrong. Jesse moved a little more toward him,

as if compelled by gravity. Bob was frowning.

“What was it you called about, Jesse?”

Jenn said.

“Just to talk,” Jesse said.

“Well,” Jenn said. “Let me call

you tomorrow. Bob and I have a

dinner reservation.”

“Sure,” Jesse said.

He was next to Bob now. What if I shot him?

The

possibility made his spirit expand. But, it would mean the end of whatever was left of Jesse and Jenn. Even if he got away with it, she could never get past it. He could feel himself contract again.

The muscles in his neck and shoulders bunched. He closed his eyes for a moment and took in a long drag of winter air.

Bob said, “You’re the

ex-husband.”

Jesse nodded.

“Are you all right?” Jenn said to him.

Jesse nodded again.

“You’re some sort of police

chief,” Bob said. “Somewhere on the

North Shore.”

Jesse realized that he was so close to Bob now that their sleeves touched. He nodded.

“Well,” Bob said.

“It’s been good talking to you, but we’re already late for our reservation at 9 Park, and you know how hard they are to get.”

Jesse neither moved nor spoke. He could feel Jenn watching him.

“Jesse,” she said.

He didn’t answer.

“Jesse,” Jenn said again.

“We’ve done a lot of work since I came here from Los Angeles.”

Jesse’s shoulders moved, as if he were trying to loosen

them.

“Don’t ruin it,” Jenn said.

Bob was two or three inches taller than Jesse. His skin had the

smooth blue tone of a man who shaved twice a day. As close as he was, Jesse could break Bob’s nose with the first punch.

“I’ll call you tomorrow,” Jenn

said.

Bob nodded at Jesse, and the two of them walked toward Bob’s

car. Jesse watched them until they drove away. Then he walked slowly to his own car and opened the door and got in. He sat in his car with the door open and one foot still outside, and put his head back against the headrest and closed his eyes and concentrated on his breathing.

29

She was driving the Saab through the narrow downtown of Paradise. He sat beside her in the front seat with a Canon digital camera, which was small enough to sit comfortably in the palm of his hand.

“Her,” she said.

He photographed a copper-haired woman pushing a stroller.

“We doing a woman next?” he said.

“Even it up,” she said.

“We’ve two men and a

woman.”

He sang, “A boy for you and a girl for me.”

She joined him.

“Can’t you see how happy we will

be.”

They both laughed.

“How about that good-looking black woman?”

he

said.

“Certainly,” she said.

“We’re not racists.”

Again they laughed together. He snapped a picture of the black woman.

“Don’t see many black people in

Paradise,” he

said.

She giggled.

“If we decide on her, you’ll see one less,” she

said.

He nodded, his eyes scanning the sidewalks.

“I want this one to be a knockout,” he said.

“Your choice,” she said.

He photographed a tall woman in a lavender warm-up suit.

“This is fun,” he said.

She turned the car right onto a street leading to the waterfront.

“I suppose it shouldn’t be fun,”

she said.

“You mean other people would think it was awful?”

“Yes.”

He put the camera on his lap and leaned back against the seat.

“When I was in college,” he said,

“we had to read something in

English class by some old-time guy called the Venerable Bede. I don’t remember it much, but I always remember one scene.

There’s

this big banquet hall and it’s brightly lit and there’s a big warm

fire. Outside it’s cold and dark. But inside everybody’s eating and

drinking and having a hell of a time. A sparrow flies into one end of the hall, out of the cold darkness, and flies through the bright warm hall and out the other end into the cold darkness again.”

She glanced at him as she drove. He loved to pontificate.

“So?” she said.

“So human life is like the flight of the sparrow. Or maybe it

was a swallow. I can’t remember, but the point’s the

same.”

She pulled into the little parking lot by the town landing and parked in front of the restaurant.

“We’re only here for a little

while,” she said, “and we have the

right to make the most of it.”

“Some people collect postage stamps,” he said. “We like to kill

people.”

“Is it really the same?” she said.

“After we’ve done it, and we’re

making love, and the sex is like

nothing else either one of us has ever known … the feeling

… wouldn’t you kill for that?”

She breathed in deeply for a moment and reached over and put her

hand on the inside of his thigh.

“Yes,” she said.

“Me too,” he said.

They sat silently for a while watching the people. A dark-haired

woman in a tailored suit came out of the Gray Gull. She was carrying a briefcase and talking on a cell phone. He raised his camera and aimed.

“Her,” he said.

30

“I don’t know why I

went there,” Jesse

said.

“Why did you think you were going?” Dix said.

“She wasn’t returning my calls. I thought maybe I could catch

her coming out and we could have a drink or something.”

“Catch her,” Dix said.

“You think I was trying to catch her with a guy?”

“Do you?”

Dix was wearing a black turtleneck sweater today. And gray slacks. His bald head and clean-shaven face were shiny clean. His thick hands were motionless on the arms of his swivel chair, which he had tipped back while he listened to Jesse. His fingernails looked manicured.

“I want to kill anyone she’s

with,” Jesse said. “I feel like

I’ll explode if I don’t.”

“Because …?” Dix said.

“Because I love her.”

“But,” Dix said, “you

don’t kill anyone.”

Jess shrugged and smiled a little.

“Because I love her,” Jesse said.

“You win, you lose,” Dix said.

“You lose, you

lose.”

“Exactly. Ain’t love grand.”

“It might not be love,” Dix said.

Jesse straightened a little in his chair.

“Do shrinks believe in love?” Jesse said.

“I do,” Dix said, “loosely

speaking.”

“I love her,” he said. “If I

know nothing else, I know

that.”

Dix nodded.

“You accept that?” Jesse said.

“Sure,” Dix said. “But almost

everything human operates at more

than one level.”

“You think there’s something else at work?”

“Don’t you?”

Jesse sat for a moment, looking at the palm of his right hand, flexing the fingers.

“I imagine her with them,” Jesse said.

“Having

sex.”

“She ever tell you about it?” Dix said.

“God no,” Jesse said.

“So you don’t know what she’s

doing in fact.”

“I can imagine,” Jesse said.

His voice was hoarse. He cleared it. Dix was entirely still in his chair. Jesse saw that he was wearing black loafers with tassels, and no socks.

“Knowledge is power,” Dix said.

Jesse stared at him. Dix’s face never showed anything. Jesse

folded his hands and sat back in his chair with his elbows resting on the chair arms. The room was quiet. He heard his chair squeak as he shifted in it.

“But I don’t know what she’s

doing,” Jesse said.

“So you invent it,” Dix said.

“Yes,” Jesse said. “I guess I

do.”

“How long have you been inventing her life?” Dix

said.

“Always,” Jesse said.

31

Suitcase Simpson sat very straight in the chair across from Jesse’s desk. He was always serious when he reported. Like a kid,

Jesse thought, giving a school report on Denmark.

“Bo Marino,” he said, “is around

school bragging about how he

spent a night in jail. Troy Drake is staying clear of Bo, and Kevin Feeney hasn’t been in school for the past three days.”

“You try his house?” Jesse said.

“Not yet, I wanted to check with you first.”

“Okay,” Jesse said. “Go get

him.”

“What about Drake?”

“We don’t know that Drake was

involved,” Jesse

said.

“Candy said …”

“Candace,” Jesse said. “And we

didn’t get any of this from her,

remember?”

Simpson nodded.

“And take Molly with you,” Jesse said.

“You think I can’t handle this

alone?”

“I’ve seen you handle worse than this alone, Suit. Molly has a

calming effect on parents.”

Simpson looked pleased for a moment, and left. Jesse picked up the phone and called Abby Taylor.

“You still representing Bo Marino?” he said when she

answered.

“No.”

“Old man fire you?”

“He didn’t get the chance,” Abby

said.

“Good for you.”

“File him under life’s too

short,” Abby said. “Are you going to pursue this?”

“I am.”

“I wish you well.”

“You know who your replacement is?”

“No, but I’ll bet he’s a

loudmouth,” Abby said.

“No bet,” Jesse said. “Want to

have dinner some

night?”

There was a pause. Jesse waited.

Then Abby said, “Of course I would. I have always felt bad about

the way we, ah, ended.”

“Gray Gull?” Jesse said.

“Tonight?”

Again the pause. Again Jesse waited.

“Absolutely,” Abby said.

“I’ll meet you there.”

“Good,” Jesse

said and hung up.

He leaned back against his chair and looked up at the ceiling for a time. See if I can stay sober.

32

Simpson brought Kevin Feeney in with his mother and father.

When

they were seated in Jesse’s office, Simpson left and closed the

door behind him. Kevin’s face was pale and he swallowed often. His

freckles stood out starkly.

“Kevin says he doesn’t know why you

arrested him,” Kevin’s

father said.

He was a smallish man with thinning red hair and a somewhat unsuccessful mustache. Mrs. Feeney had long gray hair. Her flowered dress was large and shapeless.

“Actually,” Jesse said, “we

haven’t arrested him. We have asked

him to come in and answer some questions.”

“About what,” Mr. Feeney said.

His voice cracked a little. Jesse took a copy of one of the photographs from a folder and slid it across the desk.

Candace’s

face had been blacked out.

Mr. and Mrs. Feeney looked at the picture. Kevin did not.

Mrs. Feeney said, “Oh my God, Kevin, is that you?”

Mr. Feeney continued to stare at the picture. Jesse waited quietly.

After a time Mr. Feeney said, “Who’s the girl?”

Jesse didn’t say anything.

Mrs. Feeney said, “Kevin?”

Kevin looked at the floor.

“Kevin,” Mrs. Feeney said. “Who

is that girl?”

Kevin kept looking at the floor. He shook his head.

Mrs. Feeney looked at Jesse. “Who is she? Why is her face

blacked out?”

“No reason to humiliate her more than necessary,” Jesse

said.

“But how can we help if we don’t know who she

is?”

“Kevin probably knows,” Jesse said.

“Goddamnit, Kevin,” Mr. Feeney said.

“Who is she? What’s going

on?”

Kevin huddled up tighter into himself and stared harder at the floor. Both parents looked at Jesse.

“What’s going to happen?” Mrs.

Feeney said to Jesse. “He’s not a

criminal, you know.”

“We have a picture of him forcibly restraining a naked young

woman who is crying,” Jesse said.

“There’s probably a crime in

there someplace.”

“How can you tell she’s crying,”

Mrs. Feeney

said.

“I’ve seen the full picture,”

Jesse said. “Face and

all.”

“I don’t know what to do,” Mr.

Feeney said. “Should I get a

lawyer.”

“You won’t need one until we arrest

him,” Jesse

said.

“Arrest?” Mrs. Feeney said. “How

can you arrest him? He’s a

child, for God’s sake.”

Jesse got up and walked around his desk and sat on the corner of

it in front of Kevin.

“Who took the picture?” Jesse said.

Kevin stared at the floor.

“Did you rape this girl?” Jesse said.

Without raising his eyes, Kevin said, “I didn’t do

nothing.”

Jesse let out an audible breath.

“This isn’t skipping school, Kevin, or smoking a joint,” he

said. “This is jail time.”

“Oh my God,” Mrs. Feeney said.

“Oh my God.”

“I say there are three of you,” Jesse said. “You holding her

hands, somebody else taking the picture, and a third party, off camera, holding her feet.”

“I didn’t do nothing.”

“Do you know Bo Marino?” Jesse said.

Kevin nodded. He looked as if he might collapse in his chair.

“Did he take these pictures?”

“I don’t know.”

“We found them in his possession.”

“I don’t know.”

“Was someone holding her feet?”

“I don’t know.”

“Who was holding her feet.”

Kevin began to cry.

“I don’t know,” he said.

“I don’t know anything.”

“Don’t yell at him,” Mrs. Feeney

said. “Leave him

alone.”

Jesse nodded slowly.

“Okay,” he said. “Kevin Feeney,

you are under arrest for sexual

assault.”

“No,” Mr. Feeney said.

“You have the right to remain silent,”

Jesse said. “Anything you

say can be used against you in a court of law.”

“Wait a minute,” Mr. Feeney said.

“Wait.”

“You have the right to an attorney to assist you prior to

questioning and to be with you during questioning if you so desire.”

“Don’t arrest him,” Mrs. Feeney

said.

“There must be something we can work out,”

Mr. Feeney

said.

“If you cannot afford an attorney you have the right to have one

appointed for you prior to questioning.”

“I don’t know a lawyer,” Mr.

Feeney said.

“One will be appointed,” Jesse said.

“Do you understand these

rights, Kevin?”

Kevin was crying noisily.

“Am I going to jail,” he said.

“At least until a judge sets bail,” Jesse said.

“Mom,” Kevin said.

“Oh God, Kevin,” she said.

“If he tells you?” Mr. Feeney said.

“I might not arrest him.”

“Tell him, Kevin.”

“I can’t rat out my friends.”

“Do you want to go to jail?” Mr. Feeney said. “Tell him, for

crissake.”

“They’ll be pissed at me,” Kevin

said.

He was able to speak briefly, between sobs. Jesse picked up the

phone.

“Molly, you or Suit come back here.”

Almost at once, Simpson opened the door.

“Take Kevin down to a cell and lock him up,” Jesse said. “Then

call the public defender’s office, tell him the kid needs a lawyer.”

Simpson put a hand under Kevin’s arm.

He said, “Come on, kid.”

Kevin was crying loudly. Mrs. Feeney was crying just as loudly.

Kevin’s father stood and leaned over his son.

“Was it Bo Marino?” he shouted at him.

“Yes,” Kevin said.

Simpson paused and looked at Jesse. Jesse made a wait-a-minute gesture.

“Who else,” his father shouted at him.

“Troy.”

“Troy Drake?”

“Yes.”

“Maybe you’ll sleep at home

tonight,” Jesse said.

33

Kevin had stopped crying. He was drinking a Coke.

Jesse said, “Who’s the girl,

Kevin?”

“Candy Pennington,” Kevin said.

“You’d have found out

anyway.”

“What happened?” Jesse said.

Kevin looked at his mother. No one said anything.

“It was Bo, really,” Kevin said.

“Me and Troy just went

along.”

Jesse nodded and waited. Kevin looked around. No one said anything.

“She was such a freakin‘

brownnose,” Kevin said.

“Kevin!” his mother said.

He didn’t look at her.

“Well, she was,” he said. “She

was always sucking up to the

teachers. Always acting like she was better than anyone else.”

Jesse waited. Kevin drank his Coke and didn’t say anything more.

The room was still.

“So you thought you’d take her down a peg,” Jesse

said.

“Yeah. Exactly. Bo said we should take her out in the woods and

pull her pants down.”

“Oh, Kevin,” his mother said.

“Embarrass her, you know. Maybe take a picture of her.”

Mr. Feeney had his head tilted back against his chair. His eyes

were closed.

“My God, Kevin,” Mrs. Feeney said.

“You’re not helping, Mrs.

Feeney,” Jesse said. “Let him tell his story.”

Mrs. Feeney clenched her hands together and pressed them against

her mouth. Kevin wouldn’t look at her.

“Bo told her a bunch of us were hanging out there, partying, you

know. So she goes out there with us and we, you know, did it.”

“What was ‘it’?” Jesse

said.

Mrs. Feeney made a little moaning sound into her clenched hands.

“You know, had sex. I mean we wasn’t going to, we was going to

just, like, look at her. But then Bo said we’d gone this far and

what the hell. And then he got on top of her.”

“And had sex with her?”

“Yeah.”

“And you?”

“Yeah, I went second.”

Mrs. Feeney moaned again. She was rocking slowly in her chair.

Mr. Feeney neither moved nor opened his eyes.

“And Troy Drake?” Jesse said.

“He went after me.”

“He had sex with her?” Yes.

“And how did she feel about this?” Jesse said.

Kevin shrugged.

“I don’t know,” he said.

“How did she act,” Jesse said.

“She was crying,” Kevin said.

“When Bo did it she tried to push

him off, but she couldn’t.”

“Did she say no?”

“I guess so, she was yelling help and stuff.”

“And with you?” Jesse said.

“She just laid there,” Kevin said.

“Was she still crying?”

“Yes, but that’s all. It was like she decided to go along with

it.”

“She have any other options?” Jesse said.

“I don’t know.”

“So then what happened?”

“Troy did her. Then we held her down while Bo took her picture.

Bo told her if she said anything we’d show everybody in school the