Authors: Robert B. Parker
Rough Weather (10 page)
“What’s your relationship with Mrs. Bradshaw?” I said.
“Separated.”
“There’s separation that leads to divorce,” I said. “And sometimes, separation that leads to reconciliation. Which are you?”
“It is what it is,” Bradshaw said. “I am hoping for reconciliation.”
“What is the, ah, presenting syndrome for the separation?” I said.
Bradshaw looked at me.
“You been shrunk?” he said.
“In a manner of speaking,” I said.
“What’s that mean,” Bradshaw said.
“I often get to sleep with a shrink,” I said.
“Ah, the woman you brought to Tashtego,” he said.
“Yes.”
“Perhaps if you had paid less attention to her,” Bradshaw said. “You might have been more helpful to Heidi.”
“Perhaps,” I said. “I didn’t see you there.”
“I was supposed to be. At the last minute I simply couldn’t go. Couldn’t stand the civilized pretense, you know?”
A middle-aged golden retriever pushed her way in through the flap on the doggie door and came to my chair. She sniffed me carefully, accepted a scratch behind her ear, then went and lay in a patch of sunlight on the floor. There was no rug. And the chairs we were sitting in were most of the furniture in the glass room.
“Any other men involved?” I said.
“With Heidi, there are always men involved,” he said. “The separation is not, however, about that.”
“What is it about?”
“We each need time to discover ourselves,” Bradshaw said.
“Getting help?” I said.
“I am seeing a therapist,” Bradshaw said. “I don’t know what Heidi is doing.”
“Spend much time in Washington?”
“Information Agency?” he said. “Some. I spend some time overseas as well.”
“Where?”
“Middle East, Central Europe,” he said. “London.”
“Before you were separated, did Heidi go with you?”
“Sometimes,” he said.
Through the archway behind us I could see that the living room looked sort of empty, too. It had a rug and a couch, but not much else.
“Ever meet a guy named Rugar?” I said.
“No, why do you ask?”
“You’re the first person in this deal that might have,” I said.
“Because of my government service?”
“He’s been in government service, too,” I said.
“Is he the kidnapper?”
“Yes.”
“And you’re suggesting I might be complicit?”
“Somebody had to have access to Rugar.”
“Perhaps you are complicit,” Bradshaw said. “You certainly did nothing to stop the kidnapping.”
“I wish I were,” I said. “Then I could tell myself what I want to know.”
“I see no reason to be flip,” he said.
“Any reason will do,” I said. “Have you ever been involved in covert operations?”
“For God’s sake, I’m a PR adviser. I know nothing about covert.”
“And if you did, you wouldn’t admit it,” I said. “Because then it would no longer be covert.”
Bradshaw smiled a pale smile.
“I assume spies do not go about telling people they are spies,” he said.
“So the fact that you deny it is meaningless,” I said.
“I suppose so,” Bradshaw said.
“Did you get along with Adelaide Van Meer?” I said.
“Heidi’s daughter?” He shrugged. “I thought she was spoiled and childish and somewhat neurasthenic. But we didn’t fight or anything.”
“Did Heidi know you thought that about her daughter?”
“Hell,” Bradshaw said. “She thought that, too, except it was her daughter, and she was sort of required to love her.”
27Susan’s idea of a great Chinese meal
is a small bowl of brown rice and some chopsticks. But occasionally she indulges my taste for something more exotic, and goes with me to P. F. Chang’s in Park Square, where she nibbles at her rice and watches in understated horror as I wolf down some sweet-and-sour pork. We were doing that on a quiet Tuesday evening, when the Gray Man came to our table and stood.
is a small bowl of brown rice and some chopsticks. But occasionally she indulges my taste for something more exotic, and goes with me to P. F. Chang’s in Park Square, where she nibbles at her rice and watches in understated horror as I wolf down some sweet-and-sour pork. We were doing that on a quiet Tuesday evening, when the Gray Man came to our table and stood.
Susan’s face tightened.
I said, “Care to join us?”
“I would,” he said, and pulled out a chair and sat.
The waitress came over.
“Would you like to see a menu?” she said.
“No. Bring me Stoli and soda,” the Gray Man said. “A double.”
She went for the drink. The Gray Man looked at Susan.
“Dr. Silverman,” he said.
Susan nodded once without speaking. I gestured at my sweet-and-sour pork.
“Bite?” I said.
He shook his head.
“I’m not here for trouble,” he said.
“The management will probably be pleased,” I said.
The waitress brought him his drink. He took some in.
“I would like you to stop looking into the events at Tashtego Island,” he said.
“How come?” I said.
“We have a history, you and I, and it has caused me to hold you in some regard,” he said.
“Aw, hell,” I said.
“I do not wish to kill you,” he said.
“He likes me,” I said to Susan. “He really, really likes me.”
“You are, as usual, flippant. And you are, as usual, involved in something you don’t understand,” Rugar said. “Nothing is as it seems.”
“The old illusion-and-reality issue,” I said. “You’re a heavy guy, Rugar.”
He gestured to our waitress for another drink.
“I will not,” he said, looking at Susan, “do any harm to Dr. Silverman. It would compromise the adversarial dignity of our history.”
The waitress set Rugar’s drink down before him and took his empty glass and left.
“You believe me?” Rugar said.
“Your word is good,” I said.
“Yes,” he said. “It is. And I give you my word that you are blundering about in a situation that you don’t understand.”
“That’s a description of my whole professional life, Rugar.”
He nodded and drank some vodka.
“The world would be less interesting,” Rugar said, “without you in it. The valid adversary. The worthy opponent. The one who keeps me sharp.”
“But . . .” I said.
“But your present course will lead us to a point where you are intolerable,” Rugar said.
“And?” I said.
“And I will kill you,” Rugar said.
“You tried that already,” I said.
“And would have succeeded if you had been other than who you are. I should have made sure.”
“You should have,” I said.
“I don’t make many mistakes,” Rugar said, “and I never make one twice.”
“You ever run into Harden Bradshaw?” I said.
He looked silently at Susan for a moment.
Then he said, “Perhaps if you spoke with him.”
Susan shook her head.
“You think you know him,” she said.
“Very well,” Rugar said.
“And you think if you threaten him he will walk away from this?”
“I am hopeful,” Rugar said, “that he might recognize how much easier life would be if he just enjoyed it with you and didn’t have to keep an eye out always for me.”
“He might recognize it,” Susan said. “He won’t do it.”
Rugar looked at me.
“On the other hand, I have nothing to lose by trying,” Rugar said. “He won’t strike first.”
“You’re sure?” Susan said.
“Yes. Unless I threaten you, which I have said I won’t do,” Rugar said.
“You think he would kill you if you threatened me?”
“He would try,” Rugar said.
Susan looked at me.
“Would you?”
“I’d succeed,” I said.
Rugar almost smiled.
“I will not harm Dr. Silverman,” he said, and stood.
“But I fear I will have to deal with you.”
I nodded.
“You will,” I said.
He picked up his glass, drained it, put it down, and walked away. I returned to my sweet-and-sour pork. Susan looked after him for a while.
“It’s almost as if you liked each other,” she said.
“We almost do,” I said.
“Is his word, in fact, good?” Susan said.
“Yes,” I said. “He won’t bother you.”
“You know that.”
“Yes.”
“I’m not asking for reassurance,” Susan said. “I believe you. But how do you know?”
“Rugar’s a professional killer, pretty much willing to do anything. Unless he has some rules for himself, he has no limits, and he’s in free-float. There’s no tether.”
“So he makes some up.”
“Yep.”
“Do you do that?”
“Don’t need to,” I said. “I have you.”
When we were through eating, I signaled for the check.
“The gentleman in the gray suit has taken care of your dinner,” the waitress said.
“Did he give you a credit card?” I said.
“No,” she said. “Cash. Quite a lot. He said to keep the leftover as a tip.”
I nodded. The waitress left. I smiled.
“Even in his grand gesture,” I said, “he’s leaving no paper trail.”
“And even accepting the grand gesture,” Susan said, “you’re looking for a paper trail.”
The valet brought my car. We got in and started down Charles Street.
“He probably frightened you,” I said. “Maybe you should stay the night with me and I’ll comfort you.”
“Comfort?” Susan said. “Is that what you’re calling it?”
“Yes,” I said.
28On an overcast morning
with the temperature in the high thirties, Hawk, carrying a shoulder bag and wearing jeans with a black muscle shirt, came into my office and poured himself some coffee.
with the temperature in the high thirties, Hawk, carrying a shoulder bag and wearing jeans with a black muscle shirt, came into my office and poured himself some coffee.
“No jacket?” I said. “It’s November.”
Hawk flexed a biceps.
“You got the guns,” Hawk said. “You put off the winter sleeves long as you can.”
“Where’s the piece?” I said.
“What make you think I’m packing,” Hawk said.
“Hawk, for crissake, you haven’t gone anywhere without a gun since you were a pickaninny.”
“Pickaninny?” Hawk said.
“I value tradition,” I said.
Hawk grinned and opened his shoulder bag and took out a huge, silver .44 Mag with a bone handle.
“Case we get assaulted by a polar bear,” he said.
“Good to be ready,” I said.
“Understand the Gray Man after you again.”
“He is,” I said.
“Why don’t we just kill him,” Hawk said.
“Can’t,” I said.
Hawk shrugged.
“No harm to ask,” Hawk said.
“No.”
“Susan says it be about the business on Tashtego,” Hawk said.
“It be,” I said.
“Would you be, by chance, mocking my authentic ghetto dialect?” Hawk said in his Laurence Olivier voice.
“No,” I said. “I be down with it.”
“Love when honkies be trying to talk black,” Hawk said. “It’s like a guy in drag.”
“You in on this now?” I said.
“Yep.”
“Because Susan called and said so?” I said.
“Yep.”
“Any other reason?”
Hawk grinned.
“Don’t want to lose the only guy left in the world who uses the word
pickaninny
,” he said.
pickaninny
,” he said.
“Okay, lemme fill you in a little.”
We went through a second pot of coffee as I told Hawk what I knew, which didn’t take long, and what I didn’t, which was extensive.
“And so you been doing what you do, which is to poke around in the hornet’s nest until you irritate a hornet,” Hawk said.
“Yes.”
“Not a bad technique,” Hawk said, “long as you got me to walk behind you.”
“And it has the added pleasure of being annoying.”
“Yes,” Hawk said. “That a plus.”
“Any thoughts?” I said.
“It’s not enough that I am the world’s deadliest human being?” Hawk said. “You asking me to think, too?”
“Or whatever it is you do,” I said.
“Well, maybe it ain’t a kidnapping,” Hawk said. “No ransom request.”
“That we know of,” I said.
“A visit from the Gray Man? Telling you to buzz off? You know a lot of kidnappers make house calls?”
“Doesn’t mean it isn’t a kidnapping,” I said.
“He wanted a simple kidnapping for money, he didn’t have to put together an army complete with helicopters.”
“He got away with it,” I said.
“So far,” Hawk said. “But he lucky, and he good. No way a pro like Rugar going to choose that kind of a setup to kidnap somebody.”
“Somebody chose it,” I said.
“Maybe it’s something else, and the kidnapping is a head fake,” Hawk said.
“What something else would it be?”
“How many people got killed?”
“Six by Rugar,” I said. “One by me.”
“Maybe that be the plan,” Hawk said.
“A murder disguised as a kidnapping?” I said.
“Like you haven’t thought of what I’m saying.”
“I have,” I said. “I’m just being devil’s advocate.”
“Nobody better,” Hawk said.
“It’s still awful amateurish,” I said. “I can’t see Rugar doing it that way.”
“You saw him do it,” Hawk said. “And seven people died, counting the one you killed. That’s what we got for facts.”
“And if it’s not a kidnapping,” I said, “then maybe we can start thinking of this as a murder case and start looking for motive.”
“We don’t have to decide,” Hawk said. “We can look into all possibilities.”
“Probably can exclude the guy that went over the cliff,” I said.
“We know the motive there,” Hawk said. “And we can at least drop the security guys to the bottom of the list.”
“It’s not quite a fact,” I said. “But it’s a pretty good bet that the thing was an inside job.”
“And it a pretty good bet that somebody knew how to get hold of Rugar.”
“So it might be smart to look for a guy who knew the island, and might have a connection to Rugar,” I said.
Other books
Heavenfall: Genviants Book 1 by Franklin, TG
All Clear by Connie Willis
The Body Came Back by Brett Halliday
Orion in the Dying Time by Ben Bova
Montana Darling (Big Sky Mavericks Book 3) by Salonen, Debra
Good Dukes Wear Black by Manda Collins
The God Tattoo: Untold Tales from the Twilight Reign by Lloyd, Tom
A Month of Summer by Lisa Wingate
Hobby by Jane Yolen
#Jerk by Kat T. Masen
