Robert B Parker: The Jesse Stone Novels 1-5

by Robert B. Parker

  She grinned at him and finished her first Lillet.

  “We just all like to fuck,” she said.

  Jesse smiled.

  “Doesn’t make you a bad person,” Jesse said.

  Blondie didn’t laugh.

  “Actually, I am sort of a bad person,” she said. “I’m shallow and careless, pretty selfish. But I try to be honest.”

  “That why you told me that Darnell was lying about the two crewmen in the video with Florence?”

  “Oh hell, I don’t know,” Blondie said. “You looked pretty good on the boat. I thought it might be fun to see how good you were in bed.”

  “So it was a seduction ploy,” Jesse said.

  “Yeah,” Blondie said. “See what I mean? I ratted out Harrison, just because you looked like you might be hot.”

  Jesse nodded. The waitress delivered lunch. A tongue sandwich on light rye for Jesse. Something called a California Salad for Blondie. Blondie ordered a bottle of Chardonnay.

  “Was Florence Darnell’s favorite?”

  “I don’t think so,” Blondie said.

  “I was told she was and that he ditched her for you.”

  Blondie Martin looked at Jesse with blank astonishment.

  “Ditched her? For me?”

  Jesse nodded. Blondie stared.

  “Harrison’s favorite,” Blondie said, “was whoever gave him his most recent BJ.”

  “Well,” Jesse said. “It’s a standard.”

  “The only way this whole deal works on the boat is that absolutely nobody aboard cares about anything but their own orgasm,” Blondie said.

  “Including the high-school girls he recruits locally?” Jesse said.

  “Sure. You think they’re out there looking for love?”

  “Maybe,” Jesse said.

  “Oh, fuck the shrink shit,” Blondie said. “They are out there to get laid.”

  “Like you,” Jesse said.

  “Like me,” Blondie said, “and have some laughs and a good time and maybe come away with a little jing.”

  “So why did Florence send him the videotape?”

  “She sent it?”

  “Didn’t she?”

  “I don’t know who sent it. I picked up our mail in town that day. There was no return address. When I gave it to Harrison he wondered who sent it.”

  “Did you see it?”

  “Sure, we watched it together. It was cool. Harrison especially got a kick out of it. Wanted to try it with me. But…” Blondie shook her head.

  “And he wasn’t upset by it?”

  “No, of course not. What’s to be upset about. He loved it.”

  “So when did it arrive? Can you remember?”

  “While Florence was off the boat.”

  “Off the boat?”

  “Yeah.”

  “So when was the last time you saw her?” Jesse said.

  “She came up with us on the boat from Florida.”

  “This trip?”

  “Yeah, sure,” Blondie said.

  “And everybody on the boat saw her.”

  “Sure.”

  Blondie sipped her wine. She hadn’t, Jesse noticed, eaten much of her California Salad.

  “And everyone lied about it,” Jesse said.

  “Of course we lied,” Blondie said. “We didn’t want anybody snooping around into our lifestyle.”

  “So how come you are talking to me now?” Jesse said.

  Blondie shrugged.

  “I like you. I want to impress you. I’m drinking. I feel like it.”

  “So how did she die?” Jesse said. “You know that, too?”

  “No. She went ashore for a few days. Said her daddy was in town. The tape arrived while she was gone. I remember Harrison being excited to watch it with her and asking when she’d be back.”

  “And it was mailed from Miami,” Jesse said.

  “I didn’t notice,” Blondie said. “But that’s what Harrison told me.”

  “So if she were really here with her daddy,” Jesse said, “she couldn’t have mailed it to him.”

  “Somebody could have mailed it for her,” Blondie said.

  She poured herself some wine.

  “Why would she go to that trouble?” Jesse said.

  “Haven’t got the foggiest,” Blondie said. “You’re the damn master detective.”

  “Yeah,” Jesse said. “That would be me.”

  He sat and looked at the second half of his sandwich. Blondie drank some wine.

  “Do you remember when she went ashore to see her father?” Jesse said.

  “Nope.” Blondie said. “No idea really. You know, Florence wasn’t a big deal to me.”

  Blondie picked up a small tangerine segment from her California Salad and ate it.

  “How was she when she came back?” Jesse said.

  Blondie drank some wine and swallowed, pursed her lips and looked at the corner of the room for a moment.

  “I don’t think she came back,” Blondie said.

  57

  E-ZPass transponder number you gave me,” Healy said, “belonging to Willis Plum of Miami?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Was used between June first and June fourth in Maryland and Delaware and Jersey and New York, and in the Fast Lane entrances on the Mass Pike inbound at Sturbridge and at Brighton. It was used going the other way between June seventh and twelfth.”

  “Why would he have an E-ZPass transponder, living in Miami?” Jesse said.

  “Lot of people who drive to New York a lot have them,” Healy said. “Nice to zip past the tollbooth backups.”

  “And our system works with theirs,” Jesse said.

  “Convenient,” Healy said.

  Jesse and Healy leaned on the iron railing at the edge of the pier above the float where the small boats docked. In the dark water along the edge of the wharf, an occasional dead fish floated, and orange peels, and indestructible bits of Styrofoam, scraps of seaweed, an occasional crab shell, one condom, and a red-and-white bobber that had come loose from a fishing line.

  “Found her right there,” Jesse said. “Against the float.”

  “With the other flotsam,” Healy said.

  “Fancy word,” Jesse said.

  “Yeah. Sometimes I read things.”

  They were quiet, watching the slow water slap gently at the pier. Jesse raised his eyes and looked at the mouth of the harbor. He thought he could pick out the Lady Jane anchored there. He took in a big breath and let it out slowly.

  “Maybe I should reformulate my theory of the case,” Jesse said.

  “What would your new formulation be?” Healy said.

  “That I don’t know what the fuck is going on and I don’t know who to believe and I have been chasing my own ass up to now.”

  “You know this business,” Healy said. “You have to assume everyone’s lying to you. But you have to act as if they weren’t.”

  “The bastard was up here,” Jesse said.

  “His car was up here,” Healy said.

  “She went ashore to see him and never came back.”

  “Blondie says.”

  “Why would she lie,” Jesse said, “about this.”

  Healy smiled.

  “Yeah,” Jesse said. “She’d lie about the time of day if it seemed like a fun thing. Or she had an itch she felt like scratching.”

  “Still,” Healy said. “He probably was here. He is probably a pedophile. He probably molested his daughters. He’s a lying bastard. What’s Cruz think of him.”

  “She thinks there’s something really wrong with him.”

  Healy smiled.

  “I’ll bet she’s right,” he said.

  “So why would he decide all of a sudden to drive up here and kill her?”

  “If that’s what he decided,” Healy said.

  “I know,” Jesse said. “I know. I can’t prove it yet. But let’s assume he killed her.”

  “Okay,” Healy said.

  “Why would he suddenly
drive up here and kill her and drive home?”

  “Maybe she told him it had to stop,” Healy said. “Her, the twin sisters, all of it.”

  “As far as I know she came up with Darnell from Miami, so she was around there before June. Maybe they had the falling out then.”

  “And she left in a huff and came north with Darnell,” Healy said.

  “And he decided to follow her.”

  “Why not kill her right there, during the falling-out moment?” Healy said.

  “Maybe it was in front of the mother and he couldn’t do it then.”

  “She knows, you think?” Healy said.

  “Cruz says she does.”

  “She know he killed their daughter, assuming he did?” Healy said.

  “I don’t know. It might be a nice piece of leverage to shake her loose.”

  “Course, your original theory might actually be true,” Healy said. “Darnell, or Ralston, or both.”

  “Or they’ve just been lying every step of the way because they’re afraid of getting caught in the sex ring stuff.”

  “Most of which is not illegal.”

  “True,” Jesse said. “But it is not universally popular in the best yacht clubs.”

  “Everybody has things to cover up in this thing,” Healy said.

  “Most things,” Jesse said.

  Healy grinned at him.

  “Ah, Laddy Buck,” Healy said. “The job is making you cynical.”

  “Anyway, I’ve got them on the stat rape charge,” Jesse said.

  “Nice to have a fallback position,” Healy said.

  Jesse smiled for a moment.

  “At least I can arrest somebody,” he said.

  58

  We’re going to have to talk to the Plum twins again,” Jesse said to Molly. “Can you stay sober long enough to sit in?”

  Molly blushed.

  “Shut up,” she said.

  “Let’s have a little respect here,” Jesse said.

  “Shut up, Chief Stone,” Molly said.

  Jesse nodded.

  “Better,” he said. “Get Steve to cover the desk.”

  “We doing good cop, bad cop again?”

  “Play it by ear,” Jesse said. “But it doesn’t do any harm if they like you and fear me.”

  “They bring a lawyer?” Molly said.

  “Nope.”

  “Wow,” Molly said. “They are dumb.”

  “I’m counting on it,” Jesse said.

  The twins sat beside each other in front of Jesse’s desk. Molly sat as she had before, behind them, near the door.

  “We want to stay together,” Corliss said.

  Jesse looked at them without expression.

  “Maybe I can get you adjoining cells at Framingham,” Jesse said.

  “Framingham?” Claudia said.

  “Women’s Reformatory,” Molly said behind them.

  They both turned toward her.

  “Jail?” Corliss said.

  “We might go to jail?” Claudia said.

  “It happens,” Molly said. “If you don’t let us help you. It could happen.”

  Jesse glared at Molly.

  “What are we, the Salvation Army?” he said.

  “Part of our job is to help people,” Molly said.

  “I don’t want to help them,” Jesse said. “I want to put them in jail.”

  Both girls turned back toward Jesse. He could see Molly behind them, while they weren’t looking, take a deep breath. I know, Jesse thought, I know.

  “You have lied to me,” Jesse said to the girls, “every time you could, since the first time I talked with you.”

  “We didn’t do anything, like a crime,” Corliss said.

  Jesse let his chair tip forward. He stood and came around his desk and bent from the waist and put his face an inch away from Corliss’s face.

  “I don’t like you,” he said. “I hate everything you are. So you keep sitting there lying to me, it makes me happy. It makes it easier and easier for me to put your degenerate asses in jail for ten years.”

  “Leave her alone,” Claudia said.

  Jesse shifted his face a half inch toward her.

  “Both of you,” he said.

  “We’re not lying,” Corliss said. “We haven’t even said anything.”

  “You don’t know that your father was up here in June,” Jesse said.

  Both of them said “Ohmigod” at the same time.

  “You didn’t feel like you should tell me that, huh?” Jesse said.

  “Jesse,” Molly said. “They’re kids.”

  Jesse raised his eyes and stared at Molly.

  “I’m getting sick of the bleeding heart, missy,” he said. “You don’t like how I question suspects, you can leave right now.”

  “I can’t leave them in here alone with you, for God’s sake,” Molly said.

  “Then button it up,” Jesse said.

  “If I have to go to the selectmen, I will,” Molly said.

  “Fuck the selectmen. I nail these two degenerates, they’ll give me a raise.”

  “Did Daddy kill Florence?” Corliss said.

  Jesse was still for a moment. The anger left his face. Then he straightened and rested his butt against the edge of his desk, and folded his arms. His voice was gentle when he spoke.

  “You think?” he said.

  “We were afraid of it,” Claudia said. “It’s why we came here and why we wanted to get a private detective.”

  “To whom you wouldn’t reveal a name.”

  “We got too scared,” Corliss said.

  “Of Daddy?” Jesse said.

  “Yes,” Claudia said.

  “If he found out,” Corliss said.

  Jesse nodded.

  “Let’s run over that videotape you made of your sister and the two guys,” Jesse said.

  “It was for Daddy,” Claudia said.

  Jesse could hear Molly exhale. He nodded softly.

  “Okay,” he said. “Okay.”

  He went around the desk and sat down.

  “She hated Daddy,” Corliss said. “She said this was her kissing him off.”

  “And she sent him the tape?”

  “A duplicate,” Claudia said. “She had a bunch of duplicates made. I think she was going to keep sending them to him, you know? Every month? Drive him crazy?”

  They both spoke rapidly, the words flowing out as if through the widening crack in a dam.

  “So how did a copy end up on Harrison Darnell’s boat?” Jesse said.

  “We talked about that,” Corliss said. “Me and Claud. We thought maybe Florence brought a copy to show him. Harrison liked stuff like that.”

  “I think it was mailed from Miami,” Jesse said.

  “That’s the other thing we thought,” Claudia said.

  “Which was?” Jesse said.

  “Maybe Daddy sent it,” Corliss said.

  “Why would he do that?”

  “Daddy’s odd sometimes,” Claudia said.

  “We thought maybe he sent it to Harrison to embarrass Flo,” Corliss said.

  “He didn’t know that it wouldn’t?” Jesse said.

  “I think he thought Flo had a nice upper-class wealthy beau,” Claudia said.

  “He thought we did, too,” Corliss said.

  “What were you afraid Daddy would do if he found out you had hired a private detective to investigate him?” Jesse said.

  “We thought he’d kill us,” Claudia said.

  She looked at Corliss. They both nodded.

  “Who told you about your sister’s death?” Jesse said.

  “Mom,” Corliss said.

  “So why did you tell me Kimmy Young told you?”

  “Kimmy?” Claudia said.

  “We told you Kimmy?” Corliss said.

  “Yep.”

  “God, why would we do that?” Claudia said.

  “That was what sort of tore the cover off,” Jesse said.

  “We were scared,” Corliss sai
d. “I guess we just said a name.”

  “We were afraid if we told you Mom, that would sort of lead you to Daddy,” Claudia said.

  “Because you didn’t want to get him in any trouble,” Jesse said.

  “Yes,” Corliss said.

  “We love him,” Claudia said.

  “And he loves us,” Corliss said.

  “And you were afraid he might kill you,” Jesse said.

  “Daddy gets so mad sometimes,” Claudia said.

  They looked at each other again and nodded.

  59

  Kelly Cruz met Jesse at the gate in the Miami airport. She had a short black haircut and a wide mouth and nice posture. Her ass was, in fact, perky. She was wearing white heels and white slacks and a blue linen jacket and holding a handmade sign that said STONE. Jesse was glad that she was good-looking. They shook hands and he followed her outside where they got into a maroon Crown Victoria parked under a no-parking sign in front of the terminal. Kelly Cruz got into the front beside the driver. Jesse got in back.

  “Jesse Stone,” Kelly Cruz said. “Raymond Ortiz.”

  The driver turned and said hello.

  “Raymond works Homicide,” she said. “Here in Miami.”

  “Nice to have an official presence,” Jesse said. “In case we want to arrest somebody.”

  “That’s me,” Ortiz said. “Official presence.”

  “How you want to handle this?” Kelly Cruz said as they headed east from the airport on the Dolphin Expressway.

  “My usual approach,” Jesse said, “is to blunder in and shake the sack and see what falls out.”

  “Works for me,” Ortiz said.

  “It’s your case,” Kelly Cruz said.

  “But you know the people,” Jesse said. “Got a suggestion?”

  “The wife’s ready to pop,” Kelly Cruz said. “The old man is buried so deep inside somewhere that I got no clue on him.”

  “And the help’s nowhere,” Jesse said.

  Kelly Cruz shook her head.

  “Nowhere,” she said. “Working for the Yankee dollar. Got no other interest.”

  “You’re Cuban,” Jesse said.

  “My mother is,” Kelly Cruz said.

  “And Raymond.”

  “Si,” Raymond said in a parody Latino accent.

  “And that doesn’t help.”

  “Not a bit,” Kelly Cruz said. “About as much as you being a gringo will help with the Plums.”