I said. The one in the leather jacket shrugged. He was still staring at the floor. Why not, he said. Why not?" I said. For crissake, think how I feel. Some guy thinks I'm only worth twelve fifty to whack? What kind of thing is that to learn about yourself.
Neither one said anything. Guy from New York named Deegan? I said.
He didn't say his name. He just gave us the money, told us what he wanted. How'd he find you? Come into the bar where Frankie works, said he heard Frankie would do this kind of job. Worked, 'I doesn't work there anymore. So Frankie says, sure, and he gets the rest of us and we come to do this. Who told Dwayne to call me? I said. I dunno, Leather Jacket said. Frankie just said you'd show up here around six- thirty. Said the New York guy told him. I nodded. Okay, beat it.
You run into the New York guy tell him he needs to hire better than twelve fifty apiece. We didn't know he'd be here, the guy in the fancy jacket said. He looked at Hawk. If I knew you were in this price range, I said, I wouldn't have bothered to bring him.
I jerked my head toward the Blazer. Screw, I said. The two of them turned and got into the Blazer and pulled away. Hawk walked to his Jaguar, parked at the near end of the floor. He opened the trunk, put the shotgun in, closed the trunk, got into the car and backed out. He lowered his window. Thanks, I said. Twelve fifty, he said, and shook his head happily. Then the window went up silently and the Jag slid away down the ramp. The next day I went to see Dwayne.
I found him at the field house. He had no classes 'and he was there with three other players shooting around." I stood in the shadows at the top of the stands and looked down at him for a while. Two of the managers were there, retrieving balls, keeping the ball racks full.
There was some banter, some hoots at a particularly bodacious jam.
Davis, the point guard, was the butt of a lot of teasing. Hey, white shadow, Kenny Green yelled, you stuff one. He had a spare net he'd picked up and was holding it open at knee level. Davis went behind his back, drove toward the basket and pulled up for an eighteen-foot jumper, which he swished. Hit one of them, Kenny, Davis said. Green, who had never played more than eight feet away from the basket, laughed and cut for the basket and Davis hit him with an alley oop and Green stuffed it. Dwayne worked methodically around the perimeter shooting jump shots. One of the managers would pass him the ball and he would catch it and in the same motion go up for the shot. Every third or fourth time he'd fake the shot and drive. He did this without pause over and over again. He didn't do much talking, he seemed wholly focused on his workout. I watched for maybe ten minutes and then moved on along the top aisle of the arena to Dixie's office. He was there.
Tommy Christopher had told me that Dixie took Christmas morning off, unless there was a game.
You got something? he said. Nothing you'll like, I said. I haven't liked anything about you since you first walked in here, he said.
I sat in the chair across from him. Dwayne set me up last night to be shot, I said. Dixie looked at me without any understanding. I mean he called me and arranged a meeting with me and when I showed up for it, there were four guys there and they tried to kill me.
Dixie shook his head slowly, persistently. Dwayne wasn't one of them?
Dixie said. No, but he arranged to have me there. He wouldn't do that, Dixie said. No, he just called and wanted to meet me in a parking garage and then decided not to come and, oddly enough, four guys happened to be there who want me to lay off this case and they had guns. Parking garage? There was a shooting last night at a parking garage on the waterfront. I nodded. Jesus Christ, Dixie said, was that you? I didn't answer.. Jesus Christ, Dixie said again. I what are we going to do? We're going to talk with Dwayne.
Spenser, Dwayne's a good kid, he's a quality kid, he wouldn't he must have been under pressure. We'll find out what kind of quality kid he is, I said. So far he seems to me to be a loud-mouthed pain in the ass. I'm way out on a goddamned limb trying to save his neck. I know, I know, don't think I don't know that. But the kid is so great. We can't lose him. I mean he's a blow off the court sometimes, I see him in the interviews talking about himself in the third person. I know he can be irritating. But on the court Spenser, he is the most coachable kid I ever had. He's got better work habits than I have. He listens, he does what I tell him, he practices more than anybody on the team.
He stuck with the program for four years. He could have gone pro after his sophomore year.
But he stayed here out of loyalty, out of respect for me and his teammates. Guys with talent like Dwayne, they can dog it through college, take the big pro contract, never really learn the game.
Dwayne could pass more, maybe, but he's got all the fundamentals.
He knows the game. He feels it. Spenser, the kid is a genius in his own way. Get him in here, Dixie. I'm now covering up point shaving and accessory to attempted murder for him. I need to find a handle on this thing or I'm going down with him. You didn't report the attempt to the cops? No, I said. I couldn't figure out how to do that and not get Dwayne dragged into it. What were you doing in the garage? Who did you agree to go there? Who did these guys want to hit you? Cops aren't dumb. Cops been lied to a lot in their career.
They know about that. And if they find out it was you and you didn't report Pretty well eliminates my chances for the gumshoe hall of fame, I said. Get him in here. Dixie nodded. He rose and walked past me to his office door and stuck his head out. 'Vicki, he said to his secretary, tell Dwayne I want to see him, please.
Dixie came back around his desk and sat heavily in his swivel chair.
Goddamn, he said. Goddamn. We were quiet while we waited for Dwayne.
When he came in he filled the room. It was always startling to see 1
Dwayne up close. When I wasn't with him, I forgot how big he was and tended to think of him in normal-sized terms. But in shorts and a tank top, with a towel draped over his shoulders, he was startling in his size. And more startling in his athleticism.
He moved as gracefully as any corner back, and he was built like a good middleweight boxer, except that he was six feet nine inches tall. As he moved the muscles bunched and rolled under his skin.
What's happening, Coach? Dwayne saw me but didn't look again. Come in, Dwayne, close the door, sit down. Dwayne did all three and looked at Dunham. Dixie put his hands behind his head and laced the fingers.
He leaned back against the spring on the swivel chair and took in a breath and let it out. Dwayne, he said, you gotta help us. Dwayne's eyes shifted to me when Dixie said us and shifted back to the coach.
He nodded. Sure, he said. Dwayne, you got to tell us what the hell is going on. I don't know what you mean, Coach. Yeah, you do. You been shaving points. Last night you set this man up to be murdered.
Dwayne's head was shaking back and forth in denial all the time Dixie talked. You called him, Dixie said, you told him to meet you in a parking garage, and instead of you, when he got there he found some people with guns. Dwayne's head continued to shake.
They weren't He said they wasn't Who? I said to Dwayne. Dwayne shook his head some more. Goddamn it, Dwayne, Dixie said. Think a bit.
This man is trying to help you. I'm trying to help you. Now, goddamn it, how we going to help you if you won't tell us what's going on?
Dwayne was still shaking his head. He wasn't looking at Dixie anymore.
He was looking down. You got a responsibility, Dwayne, Dixie said.
Dwayne didn't raise his eyes. His head was still now, and he gazed steadfastly at the floor. Dwayne, you got a responsibility to this program, to me, to the other guys on the team. Dwayne was motionless.
You owe it to yourself, Dwayne. Dwayne raised his head and looked at Dixie. I can't, Coach, he said. Why not? Dixie said. The connection between Dwayne and Dixie was real and concentrated. I got a hint of why he was a great coach. I got other responsibilities, Dwayne said.
Responsibilities? Who the Christ to? Dixie was outraged. I Dwayne shook his head. More important than the program,
Dwayne? Dwayne looked at the ground again. We were all quiet. In the outer office we could hear Vicki typing. I watched the quartz clock on the wall for a while. The second hand jerked around the dial in one-second increments.
Dwayne, Dixie said, I'm going to have to sit you down. dwaynes head raised slowly until his eyes were on Dixie's face. Their eyes held each other. I was entirely extraneous. You got to help us to help you, or I can't play you, Dixie said. Tournament startin', Dwayne mumbled.
Yeah, Dixie said. dwayne looked at him some more. Then slowly he stood up. He looked down at Dixie, for a full breath cycle. I got to go, he said. You change your mind, Dwayne, you know where I am, Dixie said. Dwayne nodded and turned slowly away. He carefully didn't look at me. He opened the door and went out and closed it carefully behind him. The silence in the room was majestic. Dixie slammed his open hand flat on his desktop. Damn, he said. Yeah, I said. We sat some more. What's your chances in the N.C.A.A Tournament without him? I said.
Slim and none, Dixie said.
What are you going to tell the press? I said. Nothing, Dixie said.
They'll be all over you, I said. Like ticks on a bird dog, Dixie said.
We were at my place. Susan was taking a bath and I was in bed reading Roger Angel!'s new book. It was ten o'clock on a Friday night. The door was locked, my gun was on the bed table, the television was playing with the sound off. All was peaceful. Susan came from the bathroom wearing a large blue towel and drying herself with it as she walked. Is there a wonderful movie we can watch on cable? she said.
No, I said. I think we'll have to make love. And have a late supper after? We had supper, I said. No, we had dinner, Susan said. Of course, I said. Well, if 'tis to be done, Susan said, better it be done She dropped her towel and dove onto the bed. I dogeared the page and put the book on the bed table beside the gun. Susan made her bubbly little laugh, which, in a less stately woman, might have been construed as a giggle. She pulled the covers part way back and wiggled in under them. Oh good, she said. The sheets are clean. She pressed against me. And, she said with her near-giggle lurking under the words, I think you're glad to see me. You shrinks, I said, you don't miss a thing. Some things are easier to miss than others, she said. I beg your pardon, I said, and she inched her body up a bit against mine and pressed her open mouth against mine. All smiles ceased. Susan's energy was limitless. She worked out every day, often twice a day.
Her body was strong and very flexible. I was in pretty good shape myself.
When it was over we lay pressed together, our bodies wet with perspiration, our breaths coming in big heaves, our lips still touching. Susan's eyes were closed. I never remember how strong you are, Susan said with her lips touching mine as she spoke, and her eyes still closed. It's because my heart is pure, I said. Bullshit, she said. Good point, I said. We lay like that for a bit, quietly.
Then Susan rolled away from me and sat up without using her hands and got out of bed and walked across to the bedroom closet, where shekeptarobe. I Eat your heart out, Paralegal. She put on her robe of many colors and got one out for me. It was black, with a hood.
I looked like Darth Vader in it. But Susan liked it. She draped it over the foot of the bed. What's for supper? she said. I put on my Darth Vader robe and went to the kitchen. When Susan came out of the bathroom I was peeling an avocado. That looks encouraging, she said.
She came and sat at the counter on a high stool with a fluted back. I put a glass before her and poured in some Cristal Champagne. She smiled. To us, she said. We both drank some. You have always had wonderful taste in champagne and women, she said.
The taste in women is instinctual, I said. I learned the champagne from Hawk. I finished the avocado and sliced it over endive leaves.
I added some mango slices and put over it a dressing of firstpress olive oil and lemon juice and honey. I put one plate in front of Susan and the other at my place and came around the counter. Susan poured herself half a glass more of champagne and took a small bite of the avocado. I Yum, yum, she said. It's only the beginning, I said. How is it going with Dwayne what's-his-name?
Susan said. Woodcock, Its going very badly. Susan took a crescent of mango on her fork and dabbed it in the dressing and ate it in two small bites. Slowly. Tell me about it, she said when she was through chewing. Idid. By the time I was through I had sliced some cob smoked turkey onto a plate with some tomato chutney. I checked the whole wheat biscuits in the oven. There needs to be a reason, Susan said.
Everything he cares about is pressing on him to act differently and yet he won't. I'm wondering, the kind of kid he is, is there some kind of jock ethic here? Susan clicked the rim of her champagne glass against her bottom teeth gently. I checked the biscuits again. They were golden. I took them out and put them on the counter to cool. Are you suggesting that he sees this gang of gamblers as his new team? Susan said. I shrugged. Chantel says he thinks very highly of them. She says he needs white approval though he won't admit it, even to himself.
Maybe why he's such a good player, Susan said. Lot of white approval there. It helps that he's six feet nine and quicker than I. That quick Susan said. Of course it helps. But there must be other people that tall and that quick who are not as good as Dwayne. ' I imagine. If so, Susan said, won't Coach Dunham benching him change that? Because Bobby Deegan and his outfit won't be so nice to Dwayne when he's riding the pines and can't help them shave points? I said. Yes, Susan said.
I put the biscuits into a basket and put the platter of turkey and chutney on the counter. I got out some cranberry conserve that we had put up together last fall and set that next to the biscuits.
I'm hoping for that, I said. But even if Dwayne turns against them finally, Susan said, and tells you enough to put them out of business, how can you do it without exposing Dwayne? I don't know, I said. I was hoping if I drank enough champagne with you, I'd think of something. What you normally think of when you get drunk, Susan said, will not do Dwayne any good at all. At least I'll be consistent, I said. Susan went with me the next morning to Taft. It was a day when she didn't see patients, and she cancelled the class she taught at Tufts to join me. What is it exactly we're up to? she said. We're going to look into the matter of Dwayne being a senior and unable to read, I said. And why are we doing that? Because I don't know what else to do, I said. Dwayne can't read and he's tied up in some kind of gambling scam. They're probably not connected, but since I don't know what to do about the gambling thing, I may as well look into the other thing. Susan nodded. Better than doing nothing, I said. Susan nodded again. And where is Hawk? she said.
Around, I said. So how come I don't see him? I don't know how he does that, I said. But he can disappear if he needs to. But you know he's there, Susan said. We were walking along a wide, hot, top path that curved up to the administration building. Yes. Because he said so?
Yes. And if those people try to kill you again and he's not there you're very likely dead. He's there, I said. Yes, Susan said. We went up the wide granite steps and in through the Georgian entry of the administration building. There was a reception desk in the rotunda area and a long corridor that went straight through the building. We went past the desk and went halfway down the corridor and took some stairs to the left up to the second floor. Toward the back of the building on the second floor was Madelaine Roth's office. Her door was open. She was at her desk talking on the phone. When she saw me she waved us in and gestured at the chairs in front of her desk. All right, Judy, she said. Seven o'clock.
Yes. Byebye. She hung up and leaned forward over her desk and smiled at us. Dr. Roth, said. This is my, ah, associate, Dr. Silverman.
Madelaine stood and leaned across the desk and put her hand out. Susan half rose to take it. They shook hands and both sat down.
Professional courtesy. Madelaine sat back in her chair and put her palms together, making a steeple out of her fingers, and touched her lips with her fingertips. She said, What is it today, mister Spenser.
I'm still lookin
g into the matter of Dwayne's illiteracy, I said. She nodded, patiently, this is my job, I have to put up with exasperating people. How'd he get this far? I said.
I'm afraid I can't tell you, Madelaine said. I am his academic adviser, but he has never been a student in a class with me. What strategies he employed to conceal the truth from us She turned her palms up and shrugged. What were his SATs like? I don't really recall, Madelaine said. It is, of course, confidential information.
I looked at Susan. Confidential, I said. Isn't it always? I looked at the three degrees on the wall. B.A Georgetown. M.A Ph.D Queens College, New York. Do you have Dwayne's class schedule for this year, and previous ones? I said. Of course, Madelaine said.
May I see the schedules? What on earth for? I am still looking for an answer. I am not getting anywhere with you. I thought I'd talk with his teachers. With his teachers? Yeah. You can't do that, Madelaine said. Confidential? Susan said. No, but, I mean you can't just walk around the University asking all Dwayne's teachers about why he can't read. Why not? I said Well, I mean, you d have to make appointments, and, well, they wouldn't many of them wouldn't like it. Would they not wish to reach an understanding? Susan said, as to how a young man who can neither read nor write could get a passing grade in their courses?
Robert B Parker - Spenser 16 - Playmates Page 8