Silent Night: A Spenser Holiday Novel (7 page)

S
USAN WAS GIVING PEARL
her afternoon homemade Christmas cookie. Because we were at Susan’s house, homemade meant cookies from Rosie’s Bakery in Inman Square.

“If we’re not careful,” she said, “Pearl will gain weight.”

“Maybe ‘we’ could try to wean her off the cookies,” I said.

“Never,” Susan said. “I think you need to run with her longer.”

“In that case,” I said, “I think I deserve a cookie, too.”

Susan brought a plate of Christmas cookies over to her coffee table. She sat down next to me on the sofa and rested her head on my shoulder.

“So do you believe Carmen?” she said.

“She has beautiful deep blue eyes.”

“Martin Quirk has beautiful blue eyes. Do you believe everything he tells you?”

“Oddly enough, Quirk’s eyes don’t seem to affect me in the same way,” I said.

“Hmm.” Susan nibbled on a small corner of cookie. Her self-control was awe-inspiring.

“You are suspicious of the tennis player,” I said.

“I am suspicious of all women who have beautiful blue eyes and athletes’ bodies.” She lifted her head up and took a sip of her chardonnay.

“Based on what I’ve told you, what’s your professional opinion?”

“Impossible to say without seeing her in person. Not that I doubt what you’ve told me. But if what she’s saying is true, the most fascinating subject in this whole drama is Juan Alvarez.”

“How so?”

“Controlling, domineering personality. Needs to be loved and respected. Generous, devoted family patriarch. Yet also a vicious criminal.”

“Sounds like Michael Corleone in
The Godfather
.”

“Exactly,” Susan said. “In the movie, his personality evolved, or devolved, over time. That’s not always the case with dissociative disorders. But it is fascinating that a person can believe they are good, even when they are doing very bad things. They find a way to separate themselves from the bad, even when they are the direct cause.”

“I sometimes forget you went to Harvard,” I said. “I’m going to have to start writing the big words down.”

“You don’t need to write anything down,” she said. “I’ll just talk more slowly.”

Pearl wandered over to the coffee table and snuffled around the plate of cookies. Susan shooed her away. Pearl ambled back over to the fireplace, circled around three times, and then sat heavily on the rug in front of the fire.

“So,” I said, “based solely on what I’ve described, do you think Carmen is being truthful in her motivations?”

“Again, it’s impossible to tell for sure without seeing her. So much is revealed by body language, by tone and inflection of speech. But yes, it’s certainly possible she’s telling the truth. She sounds like a fundamentally strong woman who has taken some pretty significant knocks. She enjoyed some hard-earned success in a tough, highly competitive environment, and then spiraled down lower than she ever imagined she could go.”

“And now she wants to destroy the man who helped her back up?”

“Perhaps she’s reached a point in her recovery where she doesn’t need his support any longer, where she can stand on her own. She’s now able to see him for what he truly is.”

“And she couldn’t before, because he was her savior.”

“Yes. She needed to believe he was a good man just as much as he apparently does. It could also be that Slide is a trigger of sorts. For whatever reason, she’s protective of him in a way she’s never felt toward another human being, and that has caused her to see Alvarez in a different light.”

“So do you think I should help her?”

“You’ve already agreed to help her. What I’m curious about is what you plan to do if your commitments conflict.”

“You mean Jackie and Street Business.”

“Yes,” she said. “What if doing a good thing by bringing down Alvarez causes a bad thing to happen to a good cause?”

“Go with the greater good?”

“Is that the understanding you have with Jackie?”

“No, it’s not.”

“Then what?”

“‘First client wins’ doesn’t work, either.”

“No.”

“Then I guess I just need to make sure there’s no conflict.”

“Yes, you will.”

We were silent for a moment.

“Shall I start dinner?” I said.

“Maybe we need to burn off those cookies first,” Susan said.

I looked over at Pearl, who was curled up and sleeping in front of the fire.

“She doesn’t look like she’s ready for a run,” I said.

“I’m sure we can agree on an alternative,” Susan said.

“Might it involve seeing you naked?”

“Only if you keep your eyes open.”

“Hot diggity.” I held out my hand. “Lay on, MacDuff!” I said.

And she did.

T
HE LIGHT SNOW BLEW AROUND
in circles outside my office window. I was sharpening my powers of reasoning and analysis by reading comics in the
Globe
when Healy came in. He went to the coffeepot, poured himself a cup, added milk and sugar, and took a seat opposite my desk.

“Have some coffee,” I said.

“Generous of you to offer,” Healy said. He looked around. “Any bagels?”

Healy wore a light blue shirt and gray jacket with navy blue pants and a blue-and-red narrow striped tie.

I shook my head.

“What is that you’re reading?” He stirred his coffee.

“Tank McNamara
.”

“Good to see you haven’t lost the love of learning.”

“I tried reading Aristotle,” I said, “but the comics have better pictures.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he said, “in case I ever learn to read.” He eyed me over the rim of his mug.

“Thanks for dropping by,” I said.

“You call, I spring into action,” he said. “Although I was expecting bagels.” He took another sip. “So what’s so confidential we couldn’t have this conversation over the phone.”

“I need some help,” I said. “Do you know somebody named Juan Alvarez? Rich guy. Import/export business out of Boston. Big spread in Weston where he keeps his horses and illegal immigrants and probably some other stuff I don’t know about yet.”

“I’ve heard of him. Don’t know him. Never arrested for anything that I can remember. I’ll run his name. What’s your interest?”

“I’ve got reason to believe he’s running drugs and laundering money, perhaps as part of a Mexican drug cartel. He may also be involved in murder and human trafficking, including children.”

“Sounds like a prince,” Healy said.

I told Healy about Carmen and what she had relayed to me.

Healy leaned back in the chair. “She credible, this Carmen?”

“I think so.”

“Maybe she had a fight with Alvarez, wants to teach him a lesson. Maybe she wants to take over his business once he’s out of the picture.”

I shook my head. “I don’t read it that way. I believe her.”

Healy gazed at me for a long moment. “That’s good enough for me. Like I said, I’ll run the file. What about these properties? Estate in Weston I understand. Legit business office in the Financial District. But the houses on Curtis Street. Fill me in.”

I did.

“He owns the whole block?”

“All but one building, which he bought for his brother, who runs it as a shelter for runaways and street kids. Calls it Street Business.”

“Think I’ve heard of it. Supposed to be okay. So what’s the caveat?”

“Apparently Alvarez has covered himself pretty well, because any paper you’ve got on that place is a sham. Street Business isn’t licensed. Probably a boatload of Child Protective Services violations, but it’s serving a need and doing good work. I want to take down Alvarez and leave Street Business standing.”

Healy shook his head. “Jesus, you don’t ask much, do you, Spenser. And how, exactly, does a mere public servant like me fit in to your plans?”

“I need to find out what law enforcement knows about Alvarez and his business. I want to know who might have an interest in him—Feds, state, local—and for what. When I have that, I’ll think up a way to smoke him out, something that sends him over the edge. If it works, Captain Healy of the Massachusetts State Police swoops in at just the right time and hauls him in.”

“And his brother’s illegal truant hostel somehow stands clear of the blast zone.”

“Exactly,” I said. “Shouldn’t be too tough for a tough guy like you.”

Healy exhaled loudly. “You’re looking for a real fucking Christmas miracle.”

“Courtesy of the Massachusetts State Police.”

Healy stood up. “Look, let’s take this in steps. I’ll see what we’ve got on Alvarez, and whether there’s any interest. If not, I’ll forget I ever heard the name Street Business and head for the nearest wassail bowl. If there’s something to go on, we’ll move to step two. But best case, Alvarez goes down for something, we can’t ignore an unlicensed kids’ shelter in the middle of Boston. Something’s got to change there. You might want to think about how to solve that part.”

“I know,” I said. “Alvarez goes down, the funding for Street Business vaporizes anyway. I didn’t say it was a perfect plan.”

“It isn’t any plan yet,” said Healy. He walked over to the sink and rinsed out his mug.

“I really should start going to Dunkin’ Donuts for my coffee from now on, like a real cop,” he said.

“You’d miss the stimulating conversation,” I said.

“Yeah,” he said. “Next time we can discuss
Garfield
.” He opened the door and left.

H
EALY CALLED BACK
the next morning.

“It’s your lucky day,” he said. “Turns out there’s a great deal of interest in your friend Mr. Alvarez.”

“From where?”

“The Feds have been looking at him for some time, for both drug and human trafficking. They’re so eager they’ve actually requested our cooperation. Both Middlesex and Suffolk County DA’s offices are in on it.”

“And they haven’t been able to nail him on anything?”

“No,” Healy said. “He’s apparently pretty slick. Covers his tracks well, and is well connected politically. Feeling is they may be running out of time.”

“Why’s that?”

“Those buildings you mentioned, downtown Boston? He just transferred title for all of them into a family trust. Prepaid his property taxes as well. Liquidated some other hard assets—stocks, bonds—into cash. And the word is that he moved out whoever or whatever has been in there around the same time.”

“When was this?”

“About a month ago.”

I thought for a moment. “About the time someone started hassling Street Business.”

“Now, it could just be a coincidence,” Healy said. “He could just be doing some year-end tax planning. But it’s also the kind of thing someone does when he’s about to disappear for a while.”

I considered the options. It could just be a coincidence, but thinking it was didn’t get me anywhere. “Moving people out doesn’t sound like tax planning. Any idea where the people or things got moved to?”

“No clue. There were eyes on the place, but apparently it’s so deserted it was tough to get close without being noticed. Happened pretty quick, most likely at night.”

“Raising cash sounds like he could be getting ready to bolt. Your sources have any thoughts on what he might be doing?”

“Not really, but could be he’s preparing to flee the jurisdiction. Guy with his kind of money and connections could just drop off the grid.”

“So now it’s time for step two.”

“Yes. Do you have a step two?”

“Not yet. It’s in progress.”

“I understand,” said Healy, getting up. “You got hung up on
Garfield
.”

“Can’t fool you,” I said. “I’ll call you when I’ve got a plan.”