"If Paradise ever gets a slot for detectives, you'll be the first appointed," Jesse said.
Suit grinned.
"Maybe," he said.
30
THE MARKHAMS LIVED at the head of a circle off a street that ran from downtown Concord out toward Route 2. Sunny parked her car across the street from the circle and maybe fifty yards up the street. It was her second week. Her cell phone rang. It was Jesse.
"Oh, good," Sunny said. "I'm so bored I'm close to fainting."
"What are you doing?" Jesse said.
"Sitting in my car doing surveillance on Mrs. Markham."
"Cheryl DeMarco's mother?"
"Yep."
"Can't let it go, huh?" Jesse said.
"Nope," Sunny said. "I'm worried about the kid."
"Anything so far?"
"Mrs. Markham takes yoga, and she shops for food," Sunny said.
"Of course, she may not know where her daughter is," Jesse said.
"Possible," Sunny said.
"Could Cheryl be in the house?" Jesse said.
"I don't think so," Sunny said. "They're the kind of people would send her somewhere."
"Who would they send her with?"
"When they first hired me they asked if I knew someone who would kidnap her."
"So it is not beyond their thinking," Jesse said.
"No."
"Somebody had to encounter her," Jesse said, "and persuade her to go with them to a place, and the place would need to persuade her to stay there."
"Yes," Sunny said.
"Who would that be?"
"I don't know," Sunny said. "But maybe I can find out."
"You got a plan?"
"Not everyone will coerce a young woman into a place she doesn't want to go," Sunny said. "Even at the behest of her parents."
"True," Jesse said.
"And," Sunny said, "they don't seem like people who'd know someone who would."
"No, they don't."
"Unless it was a lawyer," Sunny said.
"The right kind of lawyer," Jesse said.
"Their lawyer might know the right kind of lawyer."
"Or they might just have a friend who's a lawyer," Jesse said.
"If he went to an Ivy League law school," Sunny said.
"You might try checking that out," Jesse said.
"It's all hypothesis and supposition and guessing," Sunny said.
"That's called detection," Jesse said.
"But will it be as much fun as sitting in my car in Concord," Sunny said, "watching people dressed funny ride their bicycles?"
"Hard to imagine that it could be more fun than that," Jesse said.
"But it seems worth a try," Sunny said. "Did you call just to talk about me and my case?"
"Actually, I called to talk about me and my case," Jesse said. "But I got sidetracked."
"By me and my case," Sunny said.
"Exactly."
"So, how are you," Sunny said. "How's your case."
"The time I told you about, when I went on a bender and Molly and Suit covered for me."
"Yes," Sunny said.
"One of the things that set me off was I met these women married to a couple of mobsters, who seemed perfect wives," Jesse said.
"And you went into a tailspin," Sunny said. "Why them and not me?"
"Yes," Jesse said. "You know about that kind of tailspin?"
"Yes."
"Present company excluded," Jesse said, "these are two of the most compelling women I ever met. They're identical twins. In high school they were known as the Bang Bang Twins."
"They were promiscuous," Sunny said.
"They used to switch off on the same guy, see if he could tell which was which."
"Wow," Sunny said. "They ever have sex in the dressing room of an upscale boutique in Beverly Hills?"
"Maybe at the same time," Jesse said.
"Tell me more," Sunny said.
Jesse did. When he finished, Sunny was silent for a moment. Then she said, "Doesn't mean they haven't matured into lovely women."
"Unless they're still doing the Bang Bang thing."
"Whatever else it is," Sunny said, "it would provide several swell motives for murder."
"It would."
"And they each live with a husband, side by side," Sunny said.
"True."
"Does what you learned about them make you uncomfortable with your appraisal of women."
"And wives," Jesse said.
"Even worse," Sunny said.
"Much," Jesse said.
"Dix have any insights?" Sunny said.
"Haven't seen him yet," Jesse said. "First I need to know what the Bang Bang Twins are like these days."
"But you've talked about your first reaction to them," Sunny said.
"Yes."
"He say anything interesting?"
"No, but he looked interested," Jesse said.
"It's a start," Sunny said.
Again, they were quiet on their respective cell phones.
"You want to have dinner?" Jesse said.
"Tonight?"
"Yes."
"I'll come there," Sunny said.
"Really?" Jesse said. "Long drive home at night."
"Maybe I'll bring a little suitcase," Sunny said.
"What a very good idea," Jesse said.
"Don't get your hopes up," Sunny said.
"My hopes are always up," Jesse said.
"Good to know," Sunny said.
"Either way," Jesse said, "it'll be nice to see you."
"Either way?"
"Either way."
Again, they were quiet.
Then Sunny said, "Gray Gull?"
"Seven o'clock," Jesse said.
31
FRESHLY SHOWERED and sitting alone in Jesse's living room, wearing one of Jesse's shirts for a bathrobe, Sunny called Pace Advertising and asked for John Markham.
"Mr. Markham is in Chicago this week. May I transfer you to his voice mail?"
"No," Sunny said. "Do you have an attorney on staff?"
"That would be Mr. Cahill. May I connect you?"
"Yes," Sunny said. "Thank you."
The line went silent, then a phone picked up and a male voice said, "Don Cahill."
"Hi, Mr. Cahill," Sunny said. "This is Sonya Stone in John Markham's office. He's out of town, and I need a little favor."
"Whaddya need, Sonya?"
"Mr. Markham asked me to call that lawyer you sent him to, and I've lost his name and number."
"John won't like that," Cahill said.
"I know," Sunny said. "Can you save me?"
Cahill laughed.
"Cahill to the rescue," he said. "Wait a second."
Sunny waited. Cahill came back.
"Harry Lyle," he said, and recited the phone number.
"Thank you," Sunny said. "You're an angel."
"You better believe it, Sonya," Cahill said. "You can stop by anytime to thank me."
"I will," Sunny said, and hung up.
She looked at Ozzie Smith's picture on the wall behind the bar.
"Sometimes, Ozzie," she said out loud, "I dazzle myself." She went into the bedroom and dressed and made the bed. The picture of Jenn that used to be on the bedside table was gone. Sunny smiled to herself as she packed her small suitcase.
Sonya Stone?
She cleaned up the breakfast dishes. It was kind of fun being housewifely. When she was through she went back in the living room and got out a copy of the Boston phone book and looked up Harry Lyle. He was listed as a criminal lawyer. She phoned and made an appointment, calling herself Rose Painter. Then she went into the kitchen where Jesse kept a notepad, and sat at the kitchen table and wrote him a note and left it on the bed pillow.
I'm glad I brought my little suitcase. XXOO
S
As she drove back toward Boston, she thought about Jesse. She liked having sex with him. What was not to like . . . as a sex partner. As a life partner? There w
as the drinking problem and the ex-wife. Sunny wasn't sure that he had actually rid himself of Jenn and the way he felt about Jenn.
She gave a small humorless laugh.
Like I'm rid of Richie. What kind of prospect am I for Jesse? I don't have a drinking problem, but I very well may be more addicted to my ex than he has been to his. Are we both settling for second best? Dr. Silverman had said once that she was using other men as an anodyne. Were she and Jesse doing that, killing their pain with each other? . . . Worse ways, I suppose.
32
CHARLIE TRAXAL," Rita Fiore said, "Jesse Stone."
Jesse shook hands with Traxal.
"Charlie's the chief investigator for the Norfolk County DA," Rita said. "Jesse's the chief of police in Paradise."
"Any friend of Rita's," Traxal said.
"Covers a lot of ground," Rita said.
They were having lunch at Locke-Ober.
"Rita tells me you used to be in L.A.," Traxal said to Jesse.
"Robbery homicide," Jesse said.
"So you done some street work," Traxal said.
"Yep."
"Charlie often worked with me when I was a prosecutor down there," Rita said. "He knows more about crime south of Boston than anyone I've ever met."
"Rita knew a lot herself," Traxal said. "Until she went upscale to the big, fancy law firm."
"Which is paying for your lunch," Rita said.
"Thing I like best about big, fancy law firms," Traxal said. "I think I'll have the Lobster Savannah."
"Jesse is looking for South Shore crime gossip," Rita said.
Traxal looked at Jesse.
"You've come to the right place," he said. "Whaddya need?"
"Neal Bangston," Jesse said. "Knocko Moynihan, Reggie Galen."
Traxal leaned back and drank some of his iced tea. He was a sturdy-looking man, with gray hair and horn-rimmed glasses.
"I never got the bastard," he said.
"Which one?" Jesse said.
"Any of them, but I wanted Bangston most."
"Why?"
"Because we never caught him. Moynihan and Galen both did time, but Bangston." Traxal shook his head. "Lord Bangston of Hempstead."
"Dirty?"
"Absolutely," Traxal said.
"Couldn't prove it?"
"Never."
"He connected to Knocko and Reggie?" Jesse said.
"Yes."
"Tell me about it," Jesse said.
"You want stuff I can prove?" Traxal said.
"Tell me what you know," Jesse said.
"Bangston was a construction guy," Traxal said. "Knocko used to work for him once, bricklayer. Knocko was a tough guy. Used to box, strong as hell. Had a reputation, you know? And when there was trouble with somebody who didn't like the work Bangston was doing or the wages he was paying, he took to sending Knocko around to discuss it. And the bigger Bangston Construction got, the more there was to discuss."
"Like?"
"Construction not up to code, nonunion labor, pay below minimum, illegal immigrants, lot of overcharges."
"So," Jesse said, "Knocko became more and more important."
"And so did Bangston," Traxal said. "Big man in Hempstead. Big man in the Church, had a big charity event every year on his lawn. Married some rich Catholic broad from an important family. Moved up in the world."
Rita sat quietly, listening to them talk. Nearly everyone who came into the restaurant, Jesse noticed, looked at her.
"Meanwhile, Knocko started freelancing and got himself busted for extortion," Traxal said. "Three years in Garrison."
"Where he meets Reggie Galen," Jesse said.
"Soul mates," Traxal said.
He looked at Rita.
"You miss all this stuff, babe?" Traxal said.
"Everything but the thirty-thousand-dollar salary," she said.
"Anyway, after both of them get out of jail, Bangston is trying to expand on the North Shore, and he's having some trouble with Reggie Galen, who's charging Bangston a security fee for everything that he does up there. So Bangston gets hold of Knocko and tells him the problem, and Knocko says, 'I know the guy,' and pretty soon they're all thick as thieves."
"Lemme guess," Jesse said. "Reggie's the North Shore Knocko."
"And everyone's making money."
"You know Bangston's twin daughters married his two thugs?" Jesse said.
Traxal nodded. Rita whistled softly.
"Yeah," he said. "I don't think Bangston liked that much, but by now it's not clear if Knocko and Reggie work for Bangston or he works for them."
"You been accumulating evidence for a long time," Jesse said.
"Looked at a lot of paper," Traxal said. "Talked to a lot of people."
"None of whom will talk on the record."
"Nope."
"Without which the paper's no good."
"Nope."
"Careful guys," Jesse said.
"And smart," Traxal said. "You're interested because of Knocko getting aced in your town."
"Yep."
"Pretty thorough guy," Traxal said.
"I am," Jesse said. "Guy worked for Reggie Galen got whacked, too."
"Connected?"
"Seems likely," Jesse said.
"Two thugs?" Rita said. "In the same month? In a town like Paradise? I'd say it seems very likely."
"Sure," Traxal said. "What did this guy do for Reggie?"
"Slugger," Jesse said.
"Suspects?"
"Not really."
"Think one of the Bangston girls might have been involved?" Traxal said.
"Don't know," Jesse said.
"You asked about them."
"I ask about everything," Jesse said. "You know anything about their reputation?"
Traxal smiled.
"The Bang Bang Twins?" he said.
"I guess you do," Jesse said.
"But I don't," Rita said. "And I want to hear about it. The Bang Bang Twins?"
They told her. When they were through, Rita sat quietly for a moment.
Then she said, "I wish I had a twin."
33
HARRY LYLE WAS a tall, portly man with receding hair and a good tan. He wore a blue pin-striped double-breasted suit and a white shirt with a white silk tie. He watched closely as Sunny sat down and crossed her legs.
Good sign, Sunny thought.
"How can I help you, Ms. Painter," he said.
"Mrs. Painter," Sunny said. "Mrs. Elwood Painter."
Lyle nodded.
"Very well," he said. "Mrs. Painter, how may I help?"
"I . . . It's my son."
He nodded kindly.
"What about your son?" he said.
"He's left home."
"Oh?"
"He's joined a cult," Sunny said. "I want him out of it."
"Kids, huh?" Lyle said. "How old is he?"
"Eighteen."
"Okay."
"He's not old enough to be on his own with a bunch of Bible-thumpers," Sunny said.
"I'm sure you're right," Lyle said.
"Can you help me?" Sunny said. "Can we get a court order or something?"
"Might take some doing, at his age," Lyle said. "How did you happen to come to me?"
"A friend," Sunny said. "Of a friend."
"They have names?"
Sunny shook her head.
"They told me that you had experience with adolescent rebellion, and they made me promise not to tell anyone they'd told me." Sunny smiled and leaned forward and lowered her voice a little. "I think they don't want anyone to know that they had problems with their children."
"People often don't," Lyle said. "Everyone has problems. No need to be ashamed."
"I know," Sunny said. "But I promised."
"Well, arrangements for something like this," Lyle said, "can be expensive."
"Money is not a problem," Sunny said. "Elwood has a great deal of money."
"If there's enough," Lyle said, "it's possible to arrange something."
"Can you take him away from these people?" Sunny said.
"It might be arranged," Lyle said.
"If you did, how would we keep him from going back?" Sunny said. "We can't just lock him in his room."
"There's a residential treatment center in Westland," Lyle said. "He might find the proper treatment."
"Is this all legal?" Sunny said.
"Absolutely," Lyle said. "Right papers, right judge, we can get him committed to the Rackley Young Adult Center."
"In Westland?"
"Yes," Lyle said. "It's a secure facility."
"My God," Sunny said. "I don't know. I need to talk with Elwood."
"Of course," Lyle said. "Is there somewhere I can reach you?"
Sunny stood and smiled.
"I'll call you," she said.
She put out her hand. He took it in his right and covered it with his left and shook it warmly.
"I can help you," he said.
"I think you can," Sunny said. "I just have to talk with Elwood."
Lyle held her hand for another moment, then released it as if he didn't want to, and Sunny left the office and took the elevator down to the parking garage.
34
JESSE GATHERED THEM in the squad room: Suit, Molly, Peter Perkins.
"We got a couple murders in town," Jesse said. "Let's talk about them."
"Moynihan and Reggie Galen knew each other in jail," Peter said.
Jesse nodded.
"They pretty much ran their wing of Garrison," Peter said.
"They were tough guys, and they started out watching each other's back."
"What was their connection?" Jesse said.
"They were white," Perkins said.
"And the trouble was racial," Jesse said.
"Yes," Perkins said.
"Often is," Jesse said.
"People at Garrison told me that they were both pretty scary. And they both had a rep, and they both had outside connections. Word got around. After a while, they were in charge."
"Leadership qualities," Molly said.
Jesse smiled.
"Know who the outside connections were?" Jesse said.
"Nope."
"They got out at the same time?" Jesse said.
" 'Bout a month apart," Perkins said.
Jesse nodded.
"Anything else?" he said.
"All I could find out at Garrison," Perkins said.
Jesse walked to the end of the squad room and looked out the window at the Public Works parking lot.
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