Death in Paradise

Chapter Twenty-eight

The room was empty of ornament. Just a gray metal desk, an extra chair, and a swivel chair with a man sitting in it behind the desk. The man was white, entirely bald, clean-shaven. He wore a white shirt buttoned to the neck and a pair of pale blue jeans. The shirt and jeans were starched and pressed. His face was healthy-looking. His teeth were very white. His fingernails gleamed. The man's name was Dix.

Jesse sat in the extra chair.

"My name is Jesse Stone," he said. "My ex-wife says she's talked to you."

"She did," Dix said.

"You used to be a cop."

"Until I gave it up to be a drunk."

"What pushed your button?" Jesse said.

"My boozer button?"

"You know," Jesse said, "the precipitating event."

Dix laughed. Jesse noticed that Dix's hands lay perfectly still, one on top of the other on the desk in front of him.

"Booze," Dix said.

"Booze?"

"I was a drinker of opportunity," Dix said. "As soon as I could get booze, I did."

"I was all right until my wife left."

"No, you weren't. Even if you were sober. You were a drunk waiting to happen."

Jesse was silent for a time. Dix waited. He seemed ready to wait for the rest of eternity. There was nothing hurried in him.

" Lot of wives leave a lot of husbands," Jesse said.

Dix nodded.

"Not all the husbands have a drinking problem."

Dix nodded again.

"You married?" Jesse said.

"My wife left me because I was a drunk," Dix said. "By the time I got sober she was with somebody else."

"Tough."

"I earned it," Dix said. "Like they say, if you can't do the time, don't do the crime."

"Booze kill the job, too?"

"Yes."

"How'd you get sober?"

"I stopped drinking," Dix said.

"That's the secret?"

"You're a drunk because you drink," Dix said. "Don't drink, you're not a drunk."

"You don't believe in addiction?"

"Sure I do. I was addicted. Still am. But that's an explanation. You want to stop drinking, pal, you have to do more than explain it."

Jesse smiled a little.

"You're a cold bastard, aren't you," he said.

"Stopping is cold bastard work," Dix said. "Ever been to a shrink?"

"Not till now."

"Lotta people go to the shrink. They discover their childhood. They understand why they do what they do. And they say, 'Oh boy, now I understand why I'm such a full-bore blue-blooded asshole.' And they think they're cured."

"But they aren't," Jesse said.

"They're halfway," Dix said. "The trick is to stop being a full-bore blue-blooded asshole."

"I sense a parable," Jesse said.

Dix smiled. "You need will as well as understanding."

"There's the rub," Jesse said.

"Yep. There's the rub," Dix said.

"Can you help?"

"What am I, another pretty face? Of course I can help you. But I can't stop you. You got to find a reason for that."

"Like a higher power?" Jesse said.

"Like not getting your ass shot because you're drunk while serving and protecting," Dix said.

"So what do we do?"

"We talk," Dix said. "We think about where you are and how you got there. Sometimes I offer advice."

"Like what?"

"Like drink a lot of orange juice. Your body starts to crave sugar when you give up booze."

"Why juice?"

"Because it's better for you than candy bars and tonic," Dix said.

"For that I'm paying a hundred and fifty an hour?"

"A hundred and sixty-five an hour," Dix said. "I'm here all the time. You can call me anytime. You can stop by at 3:00 A.M. if you want. We can talk. We can sort out the things you tell yourself. And we can agree once again that the way to stop is to stop."

"And I'm doing this why?"

"You tell me," Dix said.

"I need to stop drinking."

Dix nodded.

"Je

Dix nodded.

"This job, in Paradise, is the last stop. I get off the bus here and where do I go?"

"Freud says the things that matter most to people are love and work," Dix said.

"I don't want to be oh for two."

"I don't know where it will lead," Dix said. "But I've talked with Je

"You're saying maybe I could be two for two?"

"I'm saying you do what you can. Je

"I can do the work," Jesse said.

"If you're sober."

"And Je

"Je

"And staying sober helps the work and the work helps the staying sober."

"Can't hurt," Dix said.

Again they sat quietly in the unadorned room. Dix remained motionless.

"That's what you're doing," Jesse said.

Dix didn't answer.

"You stay sober by helping people stay sober," Jesse said.

"See, you learned something already."

Jesse thought about it. He laughed.

"I need a drink," he said.

"Me too," Dix said.

"But you won't."

"Nope."

They were silent for a long time. Jesse could hear his breath going in and out. Dix didn't move. The steadiness of his gaze was implacable.

"And if I can't quit?" Jesse said finally.

Dix waited a moment before he answered.

"Then," he said, "you're fucked."

Chapter Twenty-nine

Jesse sat in the sunroom off the front parlor of the house in Swampscott and talked with Hank and Sandy Bishop.

"The dead girl we found in Paradise is your daughter Elinor," Jesse said.

Sandy Bishop's mouth was thin with denial. Her husband seemed to have disappeared behind the blank façade of his face.

"That can't be," Sandy Bishop said.

"I'm sorry," Jesse said. "But it is. We know it's Billie, and we know Billie is your daughter."

Hank Bishop's face seemed to grow tighter. Sandy 's pretty cheerleader face became more disapproving. Jesse felt as if he had misbehaved and she were going to scold him. Jesse waited. Hank Bishop opened his mouth and closed it. He looked at his wife. She continued to gaze at Jesse, the disapproval in her face unflinching. Jesse waited. Hank's breathing was audible. He seemed short of breath. He tried to speak.

"We…"

Sandy raised her right hand sharply as if she were tossing something away.

"Billie was lost to us," she said, "a long time ago."

The only thing Jesse could hear in her voice was the same disapproval that had shown in her face.

"How long?"

"She ran away from us at the end of the school year, but she had left us in every other way long before that."

"You didn't get along?" Jesse said.

"She didn't get along. We have two other daughters. We get along with them. Emily is at Mount Holyoke. Carla is captain of her soccer team."

"Do you know anyone she might have been with?" Jesse said.

"No."

Jesse looked at Hank Bishop. He didn't speak.

Jesse said, "Any thoughts, Mr. Bishop?"

Bishop shook his head.

"Do either of you know anyone named Gino Fish?" Jesse said.

Sandy Bishop said, "No."

Jesse looked at her husband. Hank Bishop was looking at the gray-green carpeting between his feet. He shook his head.

"Vi

"No."

"Development Associates of Boston?"

"No."

"When she ran away, do you know where she went?"

"No."

"Could I get a list of her friends?"

"She never brought her friends home," Sandy Bishop said. "Except Hooker Royce, and he didn't last long."

"Do you know why?"

"She couldn't hold on to a boyfriend any better than she did anything else," Sandy said.

"Do you have any theory about how she died, or why?"

"No," Sandy said. "And we don't want to keep talking about it. We mourned Elinor's death long before this. We don't want to go through that pain again."