Death In Paradise

by Robert B. Parker

  "Am I in trouble with the law?" he said.

  "You want to talk about it here?" Jesse said.

  "We could sit in a booth," Garner said.

  "Sure."

  The two cops moved to a booth opposite the counter. Garner paid his bill, then he took his diet Sprite bottle and sat beside Jesse. Kelly sat across from them.

  "So, guys, what's up?" he said.

  "Tell us about Billie Bishop," Jesse said.

  "Who?"

  "Billie Bishop," Jesse said.

  "I'm sorry, I don't know anything about Billie Bishop," Garner said.

  He took a little diet Sprite from the bottle, his elbow resting on the table so that he had to dip his head to drink.

  "Tell us about Dawn Davis," Jesse said.

  Garner put his diet Sprite down.

  "Dawn Davis," he said.

  "Dawn Davis," Jesse said.

  "I don't think I know her," Garner said.

  "How do you know it's a her?"

  "I, oh, Dawn/Don, I see, I guess I just assumed because you were asking about a girl before."

  "Billie Bishop?" Kelly said.

  "Yes."

  "How did you know Billie Bishop was a girl?" Kelly said.

  Garner opened his mouth and closed it. He looked at his bottle of diet Sprite. He looked across at the counter man. Both cops were silent. Garner drank some diet Sprite. He looked at his watch.

  "I… I don't have anything to say."

  "Where do you live?" Kelly said.

  "Cohassett."

  "Where in Cohassett?"

  "Jerusalem Road."

  "Where Gino Fish lives," Kelly said.

  "I live with Gino."

  "You his new tootsie?" Kelly said.

  "We have a relationship," Garner said.

  "I'm glad for you," Kelly said.

  "And you work for him?" Jesse said.

  "Yes."

  The cops didn't say anything.

  "Why?" Garner said.

  "Why what?" Jesse said.

  "Why are you asking about Gino?"

  Jesse took a small notebook from his pocket and thumbed through the pages for a moment.

  "You used to live in Brighton?" Jesse said.

  "Yes."

  "Market Street?"

  "Yes. But I moved last year."

  "In with Gino," Jesse said.

  "Yes. There something wrong with that?"

  "You remember your phone number in Brighton?"

  "Five six… something."

  Jesse read it to him.

  "Could be it," Garner said. "You know how many numbers you have these days."

  Jesse read another number. "How about that one?" he said.

  "You must have checked that. It's my number at work."

  "In Gino's office," Jesse said.

  "Yes."

  Again they were silent. The diet Sprite bottle was empty. Garner looked at the door.

  The poor bastard, Jesse thought. He came in here, feeling good, going to have a nice piece of pizza, and now he's fucked and he knows it.

  The silence got longer.

  Finally Garner said, "What do you want?"

  "We want to know what happened to Billie Bishop," Jesse said.

  "I don't know anything about that."

  Jesse looked at Kelly. Kelly sighed.

  "Here's what we got," Kelly said. "We got you for procuring. We got you for living off the earnings of a prostitute. We got you for contributing to the delinquency of a minor. Probably several minors."

  Garner shook his head slowly as Kelly spoke.

  "I don't know what you're talking about," he said.

  "We got a statement from Dawn Davis. We got a statement from T. P. Pollinger. We have your ass," Kelly said.

  "I want a lawyer," Garner said.

  "Sure," Kelly said. "As soon as we arrest you."

  "Maybe we can work something out," Jesse said.

  "Work out my ass," Kelly said.

  "Maybe he can help us," Jesse said.

  "Fuck him," Kelly said.

  "I want to know who killed Billie Bishop," Jesse said.

  "I don't know," Garner said. "I honest to God don't know."

  "Maybe you killed her," Kelly said.

  "No."

  "Maybe we could hang it on you anyway," Kelly said.

  "No."

  "Maybe," Jesse said, "what we need to do is to discuss this with Gino."

  "Gino?" Garner said.

  "Sure. Since you were using his phone number, I figure you were doing it for him."

  "Gino's got nothing to do with this."

  "Really? You mean he doesn't know you're running an escort service for pedophiles out of his office?" Jesse said.

  "Gino has nothing to do with this," Garner said.

  He looked scared.

  "So, if he doesn't know," Jesse said, "and we tell him, maybe he'll be grateful and help us with our case."

  "Tell Gino?"

  "Sure," Jesse said.

  Garner looked around the room. It was 2:20 in the afternoon. The counter man was talking through the serving window to the pizza chef. No one else was in the restaurant.

  "No," Garner said.

  "No what?"

  "You can't tell Gino."

  "Why not?"

  "He'll kill me."

  "What a shame," Kelly said.

  Garner looked around the room again, as if he were looking for a way out. The two cops sat quietly. Jesse could hear Garner's breathing.

  "If I tell you what I know," Garner said, "can you give me a break?"

  "Of course," Jesse said.

  "And Gino doesn't have to know."

  "Mum's the word," Jesse said.

  "It started as nothing," Garner said. "A girl tried to pick me up. She was a kid. And I knew a guy liked kids, so I started talking to her and one thing led to another and I figured maybe she could use a little management."

  Garner fiddled with his empty bottle.

  "She a runaway?" Jesse said.

  "Yes. Was staying at the shelter in JP with the nun. So I started setting her up with guys," Garner said. "And we'd split."

  "How much did she get?" Kelly said.

  "I did all the work," Garner said. "Took all the risks. Paid the rent, bought the clothes and makeup. All she had to do was have sex for half an hour or so."

  "So what'd she get? Ten cents on the dollar?"

  Garner shrugged.

  "So that was working pretty good, and I thought, hey, why not expand?" Garner smiled. "The American way, you know?"

  "And…" Jesse said.

  "I specialized. Young girls seem to like me. I'm fairly attractive, you know. And I don't seem threatening. So I started to, um, cull them from the shelters, and clean them up and… put them in touch with clients."

  "And Gino didn't know."

  "It was before I met Gino."

  "When you were still living in Brighton."

  "Yes."

  "And when you moved in with Gino, you didn't want to give up your career."

  "I think it's important," Garner said, "for a boy to have an independent income."

  "Billie Bishop work for you?" Jesse said.

  Kelly had leaned back in the booth with his arms crossed, looking without expression at Garner. His gaze was steady.

  "Yes. I met her at the shelter."

  "She know you were in another program?" Jesse said.

  Garner smiled.

  "I'm in both programs," he said.

  "Doubles the odds for a date," Kelly said, his stare steady on Garner.

  "So the girls, like Billie Bishop, thought maybe you were their boyfriend," Jesse said.

  Garner nodded.

  "Tell me about Norman Shaw," Jesse said.

  Garner sat back in the booth as if he'd been shoved.

  "Norman Shaw?"

  Jesse had his forearms resting on the tabletop, leaning toward Garner as he talked.

  "Who's Norman Shaw?"

  Neither Kelly nor
Jesse spoke. Both sat as they had been sitting and waited.

  After a long silence, Garner said, "You mean the writer?"

  Jesse made a brief smile. Garner looked as if he might be ill.

  "I guess he's a friend of Gino's," Garner said.

  "Un-huh."

  Jesse raised his forearms from the table and put his clasped hands against his chin. Kelly was stone still.

  "Can you keep me out of this?" Garner said.

  "Absolutely," Jesse said.

  "I don't have to testify? Nothing?"

  " 'Course not," Jesse said.

  Garner looked at Kelly. Kelly winked at him.

  "I fixed Billie up with Mr. Shaw," Garner said.

  "Gino know?"

  "Yes. Favor to Mr. Shaw. I told him Billie was just a kid I knew."

  "So Gino didn't know she was a hooker."

  "I don't know what Gino knew."

  "He know you were her pimp?"

  "No. Absolutely not. I didn't take a dime from Mr. Shaw."

  "When did you give her to Shaw?" Jesse said.

  "First time? Beginning of the summer."

  "You have any idea how she came to get killed?" Jesse said.

  "Ohmigod, no," Garner said.

  "You think Gino would know?"

  "No. I don't know. Gino doesn't know. You can't ask him. You promised."

  Neither cop spoke. The sound of Garner's breathing was loud and ragged.

  Then Kelly spoke.

  "You'll have to come over to the station," Kelly said. "Make a statement."

  "You promised."

  Kelly smiled and nodded at Jesse.

  "Just a formality," Kelly said. "We need to cover ourselves."

  "I wouldn't want Gino to know," Garner said.

  Kelly didn't say anything.

  "Nobody's going to know, right?" Garner said.

  "Certainly not," Jesse said.

  Garner looked uncertain. The two cops were quiet.

  "Your word?" Garner said.

  "Absolutely," Jesse said.

  Chapter Sixty-one

  "I heard about how you shot a man," Jenn said. "It was on the wire at the station."

  Jesse nodded.

  "How does that feel?" Jenn said.

  "Necessary," Jesse said.

  They were in Jenn's living room. Sitting together on her couch. Jenn was drinking white wine. Jesse had a Pepsi.

  "Oh, Mr. Laconic. You must feel more than that."

  "I try not to," Jesse said.

  "You need to experience your feelings, Jesse."

  "But I don't need to talk about them."

  "Are you angry? You sound angry."

  Jesse was quiet for a short time.

  "Yes," he said. "I guess I maybe am."

  "At me?"

  "No."

  Jenn leaned back against the arm of the sofa. She sipped a small amount of her wine, looking at Jesse over the rim of the glass.

  "What?" she said.

  Jesse stood and walked to the window and looked out. Then he turned and leaned against the wall beside the window.

  "Feelings," Jesse said, "can really fuck you."

  Jenn raised her eyebrows and didn't say anything.

  "Guy I shot," Jesse said. "Guy named Snyder…"

  Jenn nodded. Jesse noticed as he always did, how big her eyes were.

  "He couldn't face it without being married to the woman he used to punch around."

  "He beat her up?" Jenn said.

  "Regularly."

  "And she stayed with him?"

  "For years," Jesse said. "I had something to do with her finally leaving him."

  "Why didn't she leave him sooner?"

  "She didn't have anything else."

  "There must be something better than getting beat up all the time," Jenn said.

  Jesse shrugged. "Poor bastard," he said.

  "Her? I should think she'd be glad he was gone."

  "Him," Jesse said.

  "Because he's dead?"

  Jesse drank some Pepsi.

  "Because he was so scared he'd lose her," Jesse said, "that he lost her."

  "Beating her up might not be the best way to keep her," Jenn said.

  "He had to control her. Unless he could control her she might leave."

  Jenn got up and poured herself a half a glass more wine. Then she sat back down on the couch and tucked her feet under her.

  "And when she did leave he tried to force it more," Jenn said.

  "Yep."

  "He tell you this?"

  "No."

  "You're guessing, then?"

  Jesse shook his head.

  "I'm not guessing," he said.

  Jenn had put her wineglass down on the coffee table. She had never cared if she drank or not, Jesse thought. I wonder what that's like.

  "You're talking about you and me," Jenn said.

  "Maybe a little."

  "You've never hit me."

  "No. I never would," Jesse said.

  "But you know how he felt," Jenn said.

  "Something about the way I've clamped on to you," Jesse said, "you can't stand."

  "I love you, though."

  "I know that."

  "You're my best friend in the world," Jenn said.

  "I know that, too."

  Jesse finished his Pepsi and got another can. He brought the can back from the kitchen and sat back down beside Jenn on the couch.

  "Maybe if I could let you go," Jesse said, "then, maybe you could stay."

  "There are problems I need to solve, too," Jenn said.

  "Sure," Jesse said. "But I don't have to be one of them."

  Jenn put her hand out and pressed it against his cheek.

  "The only way to have what you want is not to want it?" she said.

  "Something like that."

  "And this man you shot," Jenn said.

  "Snyder."

  "He never learned that."

  "Nope."

  "And it killed him," Jenn said.

  "With a little help from me."

  Chapter Sixty-two

  Suitcase Simpson called Jesse at home at 10:15 in the evening.

  "I'm at the motel," Simpson said. "Shaw's here."

  "Is he in a room?"

  "One-twelve," Simpson said. "Just arrived. Knocked on the door and went in."

  "I'll be up."

  "Shall I stop him if he tries to leave?" Simpson said.

  "No. I want to catch him in the act."

  It was 10:40 when Jesse pulled into the parking lot of the Boundary Suites motel. He drove through the big half-empty parking lot and parked a little ways from room 112. Simpson's pickup was two cars away. Jesse walked to it.

  "He still in there?" Jesse said.

  "Yes."

  "Stay put," Jesse said.

  He walked to the motel lobby and flashed his badge at the night clerk.

  "Room one-twelve," he said. "Who's registered?"

  The clerk was slim with a thin mustache and a lot of dark hair. He wore yellow-tinted aviator glasses.

  "Why do you want to know?" he said.

  " 'Cause I'm the police," Jesse said. "Gimme a name."

  The clerk tapped for a moment on his computer and then read from the screen.

  "Marsha Gottlieb," he said.

  "We need to open the room."

  The desk clerk didn't like it. But he didn't know what else to do. So he got a key and walked down to room 112 with Jesse. As they walked, Jesse gestured to Simpson, who joined them at the door.

  "Don't knock," Jesse said. "Just unlock the door."

  "We always knock first," the clerk said.

  "Unlock it," Jesse said.

  The clerk shrugged as if to exonerate himself, put the master key in, and unlocked the door. Jesse pushed. It opened a few inches.

  "Chain lock," Jesse said. "Do your stuff, Suit."

  Simpson put his shoulder down and lunged into the door. The screws holding the chain bolt pulled loose from the frame and the door sla
mmed open. The lights were on. Shaw was on the bed with a young girl. Both were naked. Shaw just managed to roll off her as Jesse and Simpson came into the room. Jesse was holding his badge up. The desk clerk peered in after them.

  "Beat it," Jesse said to the clerk, and shut the door.

  Simpson leaned against it.

  Shaw was sitting up with a pillow over his lap to cover himself. The girl seemed frozen. There was a quart of vodka, a can of cranberry juice, some ice and two half-empty glasses on the bedside table.

  "What do you want?" Shaw said.

  Jesse could hear the panic in his voice. The girl lay still on the bed. Her eyes big. Her breasts had barely begun to show.

  "How old are you?" Jesse said to the girl.

  The girl shook her head and didn't say anything.

  "I know you," Shaw said.

  "You should get under the covers," Jesse said to the girl.

  She kept staring at him, without any response.

  "Get off the bed," Jesse said to Shaw.

  Shaw got up quickly and stood naked, with his pale belly sagging.

  "What are you going to do?" he said.

  Jesse pulled the spread loose on Shaw's side and folded it over the girl. He looked at Shaw.

  "You don't have the right to just break in here like this," Shaw said.

  There was no force in his voice. He sounded plaintive.

  "How old would you say she was?" Jesse said.

  "Twenty-one," Shaw said.

  "She's jailbait," Jesse said.

  "She is not," Shaw said. "She told me she was twenty-one."

  "Put on your pants," Jesse said.

  He looked at the girl, still motionless under the spread. He looked around the room. There was some black underwear and a short floral sundress on one of the chairs. Jesse picked the clothes up and put them on the bed beside the girl.

  "You need to get dressed, too," he said.

  The girl didn't move.

  "You're not in trouble," Jesse said to her. "But we need you to go with us."

  Still she didn't move.

  "If you don't get dressed," Jesse said, "we'll have to dress you."

  Wordlessly, she put the covers aside and got up and began to dress. Simpson looked carefully away.

  "Where are we going?" Shaw said.

  He was speaking slowly and very clearly, like a drunk pretending to be sober.

  "We are going to jail," Jesse said.

  Chapter Sixty-three

  Shaw came to her front door in a pale blue sundress.

  "Well, hello," she said.

  "May I come in?" Jesse said.