"I got the feeling you're not leveling with us," Kearny said.
"I'm sorry you feel that way, officer."
"Yeah, I'll bet you are. You think he's leveling, Farrell?"
"Probably not," Lee
said.
"You know anything he's holding out?"
"Nope. As far as I know, he always holds something out."
"Yeah. They got a statement from the perps?"
"They wouldn't make a statement. Just yelled for their lawyer."
"He show up?"
"Uh huh. He says there will be no statement at this time."
"Who's their lawyer?" I said.
Farrell grinned at me. "Guy named Gavin," Farrell said. "Richard Gavin."
"I'm shocked," I said. "Shocked, I tell you."
"You guys want to let me in on it?" Kearny said.
"Gavin's very active in philanthropic causes," I said. "He's on the board of a prominent charity. Hard to figure him representing these two toads."
Kearny slapped his notebook shut in disgust.
"The hell he is," Kearny said. "He's a mob lawyer. For crissake he's Haskell Wechsler's lawyer. All he ever represents is toads."
"Well, maybe he does charity work to make up," I said.
"Don't shit a shitter," Kearny said. "I don't know about you, Dr. Silverman, but you and Farrell got something you're not telling me. And you're not going to. Okay. We don't do rubber hoses anymore, so I'll eat it and go write up my report and mention that I think you're concealing evidence."
He stood up.
"Any of you got anything else to tell me that you think might be useful?"
None of us spoke. Kearny shook his head.
"Okay," Kearny said, looking at Susan and me, "we'll be in touch."
He looked at Farrell.
"Thanks for the help, Boston."
Then he put his notebook into his side pocket and went out of Susan's office. Susan looked after him.
"He's right, isn't he," she said.
I shrugged. Farrell shrugged.
"I heard the big one mention somebody that you had embarrassed."
"Haskell Wechsler," I said.
"You knew this too," she said to Farrell.
"Yeah, Quirk told me."
She looked back and forth between us.
"So why didn't you tell him what you know?" Susan said.
I shrugged. Farrell shrugged.
"I know he never tells anybody anything he doesn't need to," Susan said to Farrell. "But you're a policeman yourself, Lee."
"Maybe Wechsler's a lead for the guy got killed in your-in Sterling's office," Farrell said. "Maybe he's connected to that woman, Sterling's ex-wife got killed in Somerville. Cambridge goes after him for assault and they may screw him up for us."
"Well," Susan said. "So much for interdepartmental cooperation."
"Suze," I said. "If we can get him for murder, rather than assault, he'll go away a lot surer for a lot longer. The world is a better place with him away."
"Do you know he's the one that did the murders?"
"Or ordered them," I said. "No. Unless Lee knows something I don't know, we don't know he's guilty. But it's a good guess."
"Because?"
"Because," Farrell said, "if there's something bad going on and Haskell Wechsler is connected to it" He shrugged.
"Haskell is a really genuinely bad man," I said.
"So you're both willing to let these two hoodlums, who assaulted us"-Susan was frowning-"you're willing to risk letting them slide in order to maybe get this Wechsler person for something worse."
"I'd trade those two jerks for Haskell Wechsler anytime," I said.
She looked at Farrell. He nodded. Susan looked back at me and wrinkled her nose.
"Not a very fragrant business," Susan said.
"Not very fragrant at all," I said.
chapter thirty-eight
HAWK AND I were shooting at an indoor range in Dorchester. I had three handguns, my everyday short S&W.38, the.357 I used for big game, and the Browning nine which I kept for those exciting times when five or six shots just aren't enough. Hawk had a long-barreled.44 Magnum which will, probably, bring down a crazed bull elephant. Since you rarely run into a bull elephant in Boston, I always suspected Hawk carried it for effect. We shot for an hour or so and kept score. A small group gathered to watch. Side bets were made, the bettors tending to divide along racial lines. When we got through, both of us claimed victory. Eventually we settled for a draw.
In the parking lot Hawk said, "Maybe the numbers the same but my groupings were tighter."
"Shooting with that blunderbuss, for crissake, you shouldn't even have a grouping. You ought to put one round right on top of another."
"Groupings still tighter," Hawk said.
"If we'd both been shooting at a live target, either one of us would have killed him," I said.
"Sure," Hawk said.
He didn't say anything else until we were in his Jag heading downtown on Blue Hill Avenue.
"I'd a killed him deader," Hawk said softly.
"Sure you
would have," I said.
The quality of mercy is not strained. Hawk smiled to himself as we followed Blue Hill Avenue past Magazine Street.
"Haskell made a run at me last night," I said.
"Who he sent?"
"Buster and the little gunnie that was with him in the restaurant. Buster was supposed to give me a beating while the gunnie stood guard."
"Appear that they unsuccessful," Hawk said.