Death in Paradise

" Norman was an executive producer on the movie. He didn't really have to do anything, it was just a title, extra money. Gino used to visit the set. He knew some of the crew. Then when we had some trouble with the union, Gino was very helpful."

"How nice," Jesse said.

Without leaving the couch, Joni Shaw leaned forward and poured him some more coffee. Very flexible.

"Oh," Joni said, "I don't doubt that Gino has done some terrible things. But he's a very interesting person."

Jesse nodded.

"I try to make my own judgments of people," Joni said, "and so does Norman. Gino has been very nice to us, and good fun at a party."

"So he's become a friend?"

"I guess you could say that," Joni Shaw said. "Not perhaps the first circle of intimacy, but certainly more than just an acquaintance."

She made "first circle of intimacy" sound seductive.

"Do you know anyone named Bishop?" Jesse said.

"I don't think so. Is he involved in your case?"

"When's the last time you saw Gino?" Jesse said.

"Oh… two, no, three, weeks ago. In fact he was at the party where you were going to arrest us."

"Anyone with him?"

Joni smiled.

"A very good-looking young man," she said.

"And, I wasn't going to arrest you," Jesse said.

Joni Shaw drank a small sip of her coffee, holding the cup in both hands, like in a television commercial, and looking at Jesse.

"Oh, well," she said. "Can't blame a girl for hoping."

Chapter Thirty-four

Jesse sat beside Brian Kelly with the windows open in an unmarked gray Ford that belonged to the Boston Police Department. They were a half block up Tremont Street from Development Associates of Boston. It was a hot, clear, day.

"OCU got no surveillance on Gino Fish?" Jesse said.

"Nope. He's down the list," Kelly said.

"How come?" Jesse said.

"Everything in his part of the city is quiet," Kelly said. "Commissioner likes it."

"How come it's so quiet?"

"Gino's a good administrator," Kelly said. "There's not much street crime on Gino's turf. Commissioner hates street crime."

Jesse looked at the brick-and-brownstone rehab that was spread over the South End like brocade.

"Doesn't look like a street-crime neighborhood."

"It isn't anymore."

"And Gino cleaned it up?"

"Not really. Economics did that. But Gino keeps it that way," Kelly said. "Him and Vi

"So I guess you people aren't going to be a big help."

"Can't give you manpower. Happy to offer advice."

"Why should you be different," Jesse said.

"You spare anybody?"

"I got twelve people," Jesse said.

"How are they at covert surveillance?"

"Not much call for that in Paradise," Jesse said.

A black Lexus sedan with tinted windows pulled up in front of Development Associates and sat at the curb, its motor idling.

"This is exciting," Kelly said.

The car sat for five minutes and then Vi

"You want to follow them?" Kelly said.

"Alone?"

"We got nobody else," Kelly said.

"I don't want to let him know," Jesse said. "We can't tail him in one car."

The Lexus turned up Dartmouth Street and disappeared. On the sidewalk in front of the office, Vi

"You want to commit an illegal burglary?" Kelly said.

"Not yet," Jesse said. "Place is probably alarmed."

"Probably," Kelly said. "You got a plan?"

"I don't want to tip him," Jesse said. "I want him conducting business as usual."

"And?"

"And I guess all I can do is come in every day and watch him. See what develops."

Kelly's hands were resting on the steering wheel. He drummed his fingers for a moment.

Kelly said, "I'll help you when I can."

"We do and it's your collar," Jesse said.

"Whose ever collar it is, it would be a pleasure to haul him off."

"And, it'll be our secret," Jesse said.

"Meaning?"

"Meaning your captain doesn't find out you're cheating on him. And nobody else on the job knows I'm chasing Gino."

"You think he's got a cop on his tab?" Kelly said.

"What do you think?"

"I think guys like Gino usually do."

"That's what I think, too," Jesse said.

Chapter Thirty-five

When Jerry Snyder came out of the car dealership where he worked, Jesse, in jeans and a gray tee shirt, was leaning on the fender of the aging Ford Explorer in which he had driven east when he left L.A.

"Whaddya want?" Snyder said. "You ain't even a cop in this town."

"We need to talk," Jesse said.

"I don't want to talk with you, pal."

"Why would you?" Jesse said, and opened the door on the passenger side of the Explorer. "Get in."

Jesse's tee shirt was not tucked in. It hung down over his belt, partially hiding the gun on his right hip.

"Are you arresting me?"

"Hell no," Jesse said.

"Then I don't have to go."

He held the door open. Another salesman walked by with a customer. Both of them looked uneasily at Jesse and Snyder.

"Sure you don't," Jesse said. "We can talk about domestic violence right here."

The salesman and the customer looked again and quickly away, trying to act as if they hadn't heard.

"Jesus Christ," Snyder said.

Jesse still held the car door open. Snyder looked around, and then at Jesse, and got into the car. Jesse closed the door and went around and got in and started the car.

"You wa

Jesse didn't answer.

"Where we going?"

"Someplace where we can talk, and you won't get fired," Jesse said.

"I ain't done nothing wrong," Snyder said.

They drove south on Route 1, and crossed the Paradise town line. Jesse pulled the car off onto the little cul-de-sac near the lake where Billie Bishop had been found. He turned off the engine and took out his gun. Snyder's eyes widened.

"Open your mouth," Jesse said.

"What the hell are you doing?" Snyder said.

Jesse tapped him on the upper lip with the muzzle of the handgun.

"Open," Jesse said.

Snyder opened his mouth and Jesse put the gun barrel into it. Jesse didn't say anything. Snyder tried to swallow. Behind them the traffic went routinely by on Route 1. The hot damp smell of the lake came in through the open windows of the Explorer. Jesse looked at Snyder without expression.

"This is the only chance I'm going to give you," Jesse said after a time.

Snyder was breathing in small gasps.

"You hit your wife again and I'm going to kill you," Jesse said.

Again Snyder tried to swallow and failed. He raised both hands in front of his chest, palms toward Jesse. Jesse held the gun steady. His face was expressionless. Below them, down the hill toward the lake, a group of insects made a keening hum.

"You understand that?" Jesse said.

Snyder nodded his head maybe an inch.

"You believe me?"

Snyder nodded slightly as if it hurt to move his head.

Jesse took the gun from Snyder's mouth and put it back in its holster.

"Get out of the car," Jesse said.

Snyder got out.

"Close the door," Jesse said.

Snyder closed the door. Jesse started his engine, put the car in gear and drove away.