Split Image (20 page)
Authors: Robert B. Parker
"You know who killed him?" Jesse said.
"Nope, but I know it's got something to do with them two sisters. They'd fuck a haddock if they could get it to hold still."
"Think they messed with Petrov Ognowski?"
"Yeah, sure. I don't know it. But Bob Davis told me they tried him."
"Reggie's bodyguard?"
"Yeah. Don't let Bobby fool you," Mulligan said. "He's not big and mean-looking like me, but. . . ."
"I picked that up," Jesse said.
"Yeah, there's something about Bobby," Mulligan said. "You got it, too."
"That's 'cause I'm the chief of police," Jesse said.
Mulligan grinned.
"No," he said. "It ain't."
Jesse nodded.
"Know why anyone would kill Ognowski?" he said.
"No."
"Knocko?" Jesse said.
"Aside from what I told you about the sisters? No."
"Knocko love his wife?" Jesse said.
"Yeah. Always said he couldn't get over that she married him."
"He get along with Reggie?" Jesse said.
"Far as I know, they was thick as thieves, you pardon the expression."
"You ever think of revenge?"
"On the twin bitches? You're a cop," Mulligan said. "I tell you yes, and something happens to them, who you gonna come see?"
Jesse smiled.
"Come see you anyway," he said.
Mulligan shrugged.
"My parole geek know you're here?" he said.
"Yes."
"He know why?" Mulligan said.
"Just that I wanted to ask you some questions. He wanted to come with me."
"What'd you say?"
"I told him if he showed up here I'd throw him into the middle of Lafayette Street and step on his face."
"Excellent," Mulligan said.
"Anything you haven't told me?"
"Pretty much all I know," Mulligan said.
He ate some toast. Jesse stood and took a card out of his shirt pocket and put it on the counter beside Mulligan.
"Think of anything," Jesse said, "call me."
"Sure," Mulligan said.
"I won't tell your parole officer what we discussed."
"Thanks," Mulligan said.
"But you try to even things up, and something happens to anybody in the case, I'll be back and I'll bring trouble."
Mulligan nodded again.
"You know," he said, "guy like me ain't got much else but trying to keep things even."
"It's trouble you don't need," Jesse said. "I'll even it up."
Mulligan nodded slowly.
"Knew Knocko all my life," he said.
52
Y
OU GOT that kid back to the Renewal folks?" Jesse said. "Yes," Sunny said.
OU GOT that kid back to the Renewal folks?" Jesse said. "Yes," Sunny said.
"She okay?"
"I think so," Sunny said. "Physically, she's fine. I got my doctor to examine her."
"She's happy to be back with the Renewals?"
"Seems so," Sunny said.
"Nice work," Jesse said.
"I hope," Sunny said. "You know what's sweet? I stopped by to check on her, and she told me that Spike comes by once or twice a week to see that she's okay."
"Should make her feel secure," Jesse said.
Sunny nodded. She sat with Jesse on his little balcony in the dark velvet evening, with a glass of white wine. He was nursing a beer. Below them the harbor was dark except for the bob of an occasional light where someone was living on their boat.
"Thing 'bout a view," Jesse said, "is you buy a place for the view and you love it for a couple of days, and then you don't much notice anymore."
"You're noticing now," Sunny said.
"I'm with you," Jesse said.
"And that makes a difference?"
"Yes."
They were quiet. There was remote ambient sound: from the harbor, the faint sound of rigging slapping against mast; from Front Street, an occasional car going by; from the condominium complex, the muffled sound of a television set.
"Thank you," Sunny said.
"You're welcome."
They were sitting side by side. Jesse felt her beside him more insistently than he could remember feeling. The silence of the harbor-front night seemed right. It was as if something exciting might be teetering on the edge. Jesse didn't want to interrupt it.
"I want to tell you about my talk with Dr. Silverman yesterday," Sunny said.
"Okay," Jesse said.
She told him. He listened without a word until she was done.
Then he said, "That's what killed the marriage with Richie. He was too good?"
"Like my father," Sunny said. "And I was afraid I'd turn into a dependent mess, like my mother and my sister."
Jesse nodded.
"Well, for what it's worth," he said. "You didn't."
"I feared it," Sunny said. "I fought him every day, his goodness. I competed with him every day. I was fighting for my life."
"Not to be your mother."
"Yes."
"His flaw was he was so good?" Jesse said.
"In a manner of speaking," Sunny said, "yes."
"No wonder you like me," Jesse said.
"I do like you," Sunny said.
"Good," Jesse said. "I'll try not to improve."
"Stop fishing for compliments," Sunny said. "I think much more highly of you than you think of yourself."
"A divorced small-town cop with a drinking problem," Jesse said. "And no future."
"Take that up with Dix," Sunny said. "I've sort of broken out, and I'm thrilled, and I'm not going to be shanghaied into your pathologies."
"Oh," Jesse said.
"I am freed of a burden I've carried all my life," Sunny said.
"I know," Jesse said. "Good for you."
"She's a good shrink," Sunny said.
"Gotta have both," Jesse said. "Good shrink, good patient."
"Thank you."
"You're welcome."
"How are you doing with the double murder," Sunny said.
"Good news/bad news," Jesse said. "I'm pretty sure how most of it went down, and I can't prove any of it."
"Knowing is good," Sunny said.
"Proving is better."
He told her what he knew.
"And not a fact to take to the DA," Sunny said.
"No," Jesse said. "But I do have two dangerous men circling the scene, looking for revenge."
"You think they're serious."
"Absolutely," Jesse said. "And worse than that, they're probably pretty good at it."
"You're pretty good, too," Sunny said.
Jesse shrugged.
"I misjudged those two women completely," he said. "They were beautiful, poised, completely devoted to their husbands. Hell, I was half in love with them myself."
"Things are not always what they seem," Sunny said.
"God, you sound like Dix," Jesse said.
"That was shrinky," Sunny said. "Wasn't it."
"It was."
"Have you talked with Dix," Sunny said, "about why you were so taken?"
"I have," Jesse said.
"You want to share?" Sunny said.
Jesse nodded.
"Yes," he said. "But I need to take some time with it."
"Later?"
"When I've got my murder case cleared," Jesse said.
"I look forward," Sunny said.
He finished his beer and put the bottle down. They sat for a while and listened to the silence.
"I gotta ask you something," Jesse said.
"Of course," Sunny said.
She put her empty wineglass on the table beside his empty beer bottle.
"Your psychological breakthrough," Jesse said. "Do you suppose it will affect our relationship?"
"Why, Jesse," Sunny said. "I didn't know you cared."
"I do," Jesse said.
"I'm teasing," Sunny said. "I know you do."
"So?" Jesse said. "Effect?"
"I should think it would have a good effect," Sunny said. "But it always takes two to tango."
"I know," Jesse said.
"What effect do you think it will have?" Sunny said.
"Don't know yet," Jesse said. "But I'm hopeful. If it helps you move on from Richie . . ."
"It will," Sunny said. "How about you. Have you really moved on from Jenn?"
"I think so, don't you?"
"I think so, but I'd still like to know what Dix thinks about you and the Bang Bang Twins."
"I need to get it organized in my own head," Jesse said. "Is sexual intercourse acceptable in the meantime?"
"It is," Sunny said.
"Oh, good," Jesse said.
Sunny stood up and smiled at him.
"Enough with the love talk," she said. "Off with the clothes."
53
D
RIVING BACK TO BOSTON, Sunny thought about Jesse and herself. He was certainly someone she liked, maybe more than liked. He was funny and kind and a very good cop. And in the privacy of her car she admitted to herself that his flaws were probably an asset. He had a drinking problem. He'd been fired in Los Angeles. His marriage had failed. She was pretty sure he could control the drinking; she'd seen him do it. The rest was really water under the bridge, but it made her feel less endangered--she smiled at her own word--less likely to be overpowered. . . . If he could control the drinking . . . and not her. . . . Did he want to control her? Not exactly . . . It was more that she was supposed to be a certain way . . . look a certain way . . . something like that . . . and with her new insight, she could probably prevent herself from being controlled, anyway . . . or whatever it was.
RIVING BACK TO BOSTON, Sunny thought about Jesse and herself. He was certainly someone she liked, maybe more than liked. He was funny and kind and a very good cop. And in the privacy of her car she admitted to herself that his flaws were probably an asset. He had a drinking problem. He'd been fired in Los Angeles. His marriage had failed. She was pretty sure he could control the drinking; she'd seen him do it. The rest was really water under the bridge, but it made her feel less endangered--she smiled at her own word--less likely to be overpowered. . . . If he could control the drinking . . . and not her. . . . Did he want to control her? Not exactly . . . It was more that she was supposed to be a certain way . . . look a certain way . . . something like that . . . and with her new insight, she could probably prevent herself from being controlled, anyway . . . or whatever it was.
She had crossed the General Edwards Bridge and was approaching Wonderland when her cell phone rang.
"Sunny, it's Spike. You need to come to the Gray Gull, now."
"Why?"
"Cheryl is here," Spike said. "There's something a little wrong at the Bond of the Renewal."
"I'm in Revere," Sunny said.
"Turn around," Spike said.
"Cheryl all right?"
"She's with me," Spike said. "She's starting to calm down."
"So, what is it?" Sunny said.
"Sex," Spike said. "I think. She's a little incoherent."
"Okay," Sunny said. "I'm on my way."
She had reached Bell Circle, and turned back.
THE GRAY GULL didn't open until noon, and when Sunny went in there was only Spike and Cheryl sitting at the bar. There was a plate of scrambled eggs and toast on the bar beside Cheryl. She appeared not to have touched them. There was a mug of coffee, from which she drank. Spike had coffee, too. When Sunny came in, Spike pointed at his coffee and raised his eyebrows. Sunny shook her head. She sat on a bar stool on the other side of Cheryl.
"What's up," Sunny said.
Cheryl started to cry.
"Perhaps I should rephrase," Sunny said.
Cheryl shook her head and kept crying.
"What's going to happen to me," she said. "Where can I go?"
"You don't have to go anywhere," Spike said. "You can stay right here."
"I can't . . ." Cheryl paused and cried harder, and got it a little under control and tried again. "I can't go home. I can't stay in the Renewal House."
"Why?" Sunny said.
"They want me to fuck a bunch of old guys," Cheryl said.
"All at once?" Sunny said.
"No."
"When you say they want you to," Sunny said, "how insistent are they."
"They say I have to."
"And 'they' are who?" Sunny said.
"The Patriarch and the Seniors."
"Seniors?"
"The, like, discipline board, you know?" Cheryl said. "Like, the oldest people in the Bond."
"And why do they want you to fuck a bunch of old guys?" Sunny said.
"It's, like, a reward," Cheryl said. "They have a big party and the old guys give money to the Bond, and the Bond gives them a girl."
"A goddamned fund-raiser?" Sunny said.
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