Death in Paradise

"I look like the CO?" Kelly said. "I can spare me. On my own time."

"How come you need more guys, Jesse?"

"You need a couple on Garner and a couple on Gino," Jesse said. "What about Vi

Kelly shook his head.

"Vi

"Why not?" Simpson said.

Jesse smiled.

"Vi

"A shooter with standards?" Simpson said.

"Whatever," Kelly said.

"So there's you and me," Jesse said to Kelly.

"When I'm not wasting my time working, or sleeping, or trying to get laid," Kelly said.

"And Suit is three," Jesse said.

"How many we need?" Simpson said.

"We could get by with three more," Jesse said. "Five more would be perfect."

"Why so many?" Simpson said.

"Two cars so we can bracket Gino. Two for the receptionist."

"So that's four," Simpson said.

"What happens if one of them gets out of the car and starts walking?" Jesse said.

Simpson nodded.

"Can you spare anybody else?" Kelly said to Jesse.

"I only got ten cops left," Jesse said.

"Maybe I can get Bobby Doyle interested," Kelly said. "Otherwise we're it, and part of the time it's just you."

"Part of the time it's probably not any of us," Jesse said. "Once in a while we need to lead our lives."

Kelly looked surprised.

"You do?" he said.

Chapter Forty-three

"You drink more when you're sad?" Dix said.

"No," Jesse said. "I think it's more when I'm happy."

"You drink more when you're with her?" Dix said.

"I did this time," Jesse said.

"Because you were happy?"

"No," Jesse said. "I wasn't happy."

"Scared?"

"No."

"What?"

"I don't know exactly," Jesse said. "We were talking about being with other people."

"You talk about this before?"

"Yes."

"You always get drunk?"

"I don't remember," Jesse said.

"How do you feel when you think of her with another man?"

Jesse shook his head.

"Exciting?" Dix said.

"Jesus Christ!" Jesse said.

Dix waited.

"I'm not that sick," Jesse said.

Dix remained blank. Jesse was silent for a time.

"I don't know why," he said.

Dix almost smiled.

"What?" Jesse said.

Dix didn't answer.

"It's not about sex," Jesse said.

"Sure it is," Dix said. "It's always about sex."

"It's about other things, too," Jesse said.

He felt as if he were retreating slowly, giving up one position after another, modifying as he went.

"It is always about other things, too," Dix said.

"So why do I want to know?" Jesse said.

Dix smiled and didn't say anything.

"For crissake," Jesse said. "Is this a fucking game where you know and I try to guess?"

"Knowledge is power," Dix said.

"Power to do what?" Jesse said.

"Participate," Dix said.

Jesse thought about the surge of fear and anger and desire that filled him almost to overflowing when he thought of her with another man. He knew that the passion, the nearly voyeuristic need to know, had nothing to do with curiosity, and, he realized, nothing to do with disapproval. Dix was right. The penetrating need to be privy was a kind of participation. Not just in the act, but in her life. Not knowing was exclusion. The idea startled him.

"So it's not just him and her," Jesse said. "It's him, her and me."

"Better than nothing," Dix said.

"I hate thinking about her with another man."

Dix nodded.

"And I hate to be excluded," Jesse said.

Dix nodded again. The two of them sat there in silence.

"A rock and a hard place," Jesse said.

Dix smiled.

"Enough to drive a man to drink," he said.

Chapter Forty-four

"Kelly ever get that guy Bobby Doyle to help us out on surveillance?" Simpson asked.

Jesse shook his head.

"Doyle's got a wife and five kids, Kelly told me. Says he wastes his free time with them."

Simpson shook his head.

"I hate when that happens," he said.

Jesse smiled. Across the street and down from where they were parked, Gino's black Lexus pulled in at the curb. Gino Fish and Vi

Simpson looked at Jesse.

"Aren't we going after them?"

"No."

"We're not?" Simpson said. "What the hell are we sitting here in the heat for?"

"Alan Garner hasn't come out."

"So?"

"It's why we need more people," Jesse said. "We can either follow Gino or stay with Alan."

"We haven't had a lot of luck following Gino," Simpson said.

Jesse nodded.

"Pretty Boy comes out and walks, I'll take him on foot," Jesse said. "You trail in the car, but not close. You lose us, come back here."

They exchanged places so that Simpson was at the wheel. Suit was wearing a bright, flowered, short-sleeved shirt, the tails of which hung outside his jeans and covered the service pistol on his belt. Jesse wore a white tee shirt. He had a short gun in an ankle holster. Traffic went by with windows up and air-conditioning on high. Ahead of them, three guys in tank tops and yellow helmets, protected by a folding yellow barrier, were in and out of a manhole.

"I wonder if it's cooler underground," Simpson said.

"Cellars are usually cooler," Jesse said.

Alan Garner came up the steps from the Development Associates office and began to walk toward them on the other side of the street.

"Here we go," Jesse said.

Garner continued past them. When he was far enough past, Jesse got out.

"Don't U-turn right here," Jesse said. "Sit for a couple minutes, then go down a ways."

Simpson nodded and Jesse began to walk up his side of the street in the same direction that Garner was walking on the other side. Garner walked as if he weren't going anyplace. In fifteen minutes they were at the south corner of Boston Common where Boylston crosses Tremont, near the old cemetery. Garner crossed Boylston Street with the light and waited patiently for the walk signal. Jesse was too close behind him. He paused and looked down Boylston Street uncertainly for a moment and let Garner get farther ahead. Garner had seen him once, in Gino's office. He tilted the blue L.A. Dodgers hat farther forward over his eyes and put both hands in his pockets. Tremont Street was one-way now, he knew Suit would have to go around. Jesse smiled. I hope he doesn't get lost.

They walked up Tremont Street across from the Common where a lot of people carrying backpacks, wearing shorts and sunglasses, were looking at maps. One of them was taking a picture of a fat woman standing so that the McDonald's across the street would serve as a background. Garner went into the McDonald's and came out in a moment carrying a large diet Coke in a big paper cup with a clear plastic lid. There was a straw stuck through the little hole in the lid, and Garner took a thoughtful pull on the diet Coke as he walked.

At the corner of Tremont and Park, where the entrance to the Park Street subway station spread out into a kind of plaza, Garner crossed. There was a newspaper vendor on the plaza and somebody selling souvenirs from a pushcart, and somebody else selling popcorn. Kids with lavender hair and nose rings lingered on the corner. Jesse lingered on the far side of Tremont, waiting to see which way Garner would go. If he turned in to the subway entrance, Jesse could sprint if he needed to, without Garner seeing him. Garner went and sat on a wooden bench at the edge of the plaza, across from the Park Street Church. Jesse walked a block past Park Street, up Tremont, and crossed and went back down and stopped in front of the church to read the historical plaque out front. Garner was to Jesse's left across Park Street. An adolescent girl came and sat on the bench beside him. She had on cowboy boots over black spandex tights. An oversized white tee shirt hung to her thighs. A small black purse hung on a gold chain from her shoulder. Her lipstick was black. Her face was pale. She had a great deal of shoulder-length black hair. Garner patted her thigh. The girl said something to him and giggled. He offered her a sip of his diet Coke and she took a long pull on the straw.