Death in Paradise

Jesse saw his Explorer coming down Park Street toward him. Way to go, Suit, Jesse said to himself. He didn't look at the car. It turned onto Tremont and moved on.

The girl took a pack of Virginia Slims out of her purse and got out a cigarette. Garner lit it for her. She took in a long drag and then let the smoke out slowly through her nostrils. Garner took an envelope from the inside pocket of his silk tweed jacket and handed it to the girl. She giggled again. About the same age as Billie Bishop. Garner got up and patted the girl on the head and started back down Tremont Street. The girl sat for a minute looking at the envelope, then stood and started down across the Common. The lady or the tiger? Jesse thought. I can always find Garner again. He set off across the Common after the girl.

The girl was easy to follow. She paid no attention to anyone around her as she walked diagonally across the Common and crossed at Charles Street into the Public Gardens. She walked as if she were listening to something and walking to its beat. They crossed the miniature bridge over the swan boat pond and past the statue of Washington. The girl paused, dropped her cigarette butt into the water, took out another one, lit it, and walked on. As they walked up Commonwealth Avenue along the mall, Jesse took off his sunglasses and turned his Dodgers cap around so that he wouldn't look quite the same if she happened to look back.

At Exeter Street the girl paused, took out her envelope and looked at it again. Then she turned into a brownstone building. Jesse was close now. He saw her press the top button of a row beside the front door. She waited for a moment, then opened the door and walked in. The door swung shut behind her. Jesse crossed the street, read the name on the top bell and copied it down. T. P. Pollinger. Then he went back to the mall and sat on a bench and waited.

In an hour and twenty minutes the girl came out, looking just as she had when she went in. He followed her back down Commonwealth, his hat now stuffed in his back pocket, his sunglasses back on. She turned up Dartmouth Street. Crossed Boylston to Copley Square. Crossed the square to the Copley Plaza Hotel, got in a cab and drove away.

Jesse stood on St. James Avenue outside the hotel and watched as the cab disappeared up Huntington Avenue.

Well, he thought, I've still got T. P. Pollinger.

Chapter Forty-five

"How are you doing with Dix?" Je

"He's tough," Jesse said.

They were walking on Newbury Street. It was Saturday and the street was crowded with thirtyish men and women dressed in high-styled weekend casual clothes.

"He's in a tough business," Je

She stopped to look at some shoes in a store window.

"I love those shoes," Je

"So why don't you buy them?" Jesse said.

"Because I haven't looked enough," Je

They moved on.

"Do you like him?" Je

"Dix? He's hard."

"So are you," Je

"Glad you noticed."

"Not like that," Je

"So?"

"So you are not hard with me, or with people who don't require it."

"Yeah?"

"So maybe that's how it is with Dix. I mean, how hard can he be if he chooses to do what he does?" Je

"True," Jesse said.

"Is he doing you any good?" Je

"Yeah, I think he is."

"Can you say?"

"Not yet," Jesse said. "We're ranging pretty far afield."

"Are you talking about us?" Je

"Yes."

Je

"That's adorable," Je

"Don't you have one just like it?"

"No. I used to have one that color. But I've never owned one with that cut."

"Of course not," Jesse said.

"Is there a co

"I drank too much before I met you," Jesse said.

"Do you see him regularly?" Je

"Twice a week if I can," Jesse said. "Sometimes I can't."

"Will you stay with it?"

"Yes."

Je

"You?" Jesse said.

"Stay in therapy?"

"Yes."

"Oh, God yes," Je

Je

"Come on," she said and slid through the motionless traffic to a store window on the other side of Newbury. Jesse followed. Je

"Those are the shoes," she said.

And they went into the store.

Chapter Forty-six

"Maybe it was his niece," Kelly said.

Jesse rang the bell.

"We can ask him," Jesse said.

Over the intercom a voice said, "This is Pollinger."

"This is Brian Kelly. I'm with the Boston Police Department."

"Police?"

"Yes, sir."

"I'll come down," Pollinger said.

The intercom fell silent. Jesse took his badge out and put it on his belt so it would show. In about a minute a man opened the door as far as the chain bolt would allow.

"There are two of you," the man said.

Kelly showed his badge.

"Yes sir. I'm Kelly, this is Jesse Stone."

The man looked hard at Kelly's badge.

"Could you hold it a bit closer to the door?" the man said. Kelly held it right up to the small opening. The man took a long time examining it.

"Will you need to come in?" he said.

"You T. P. Pollinger?" Kelly said.

"Yes."

"It would be better if we came in," Kelly said.

"Excuse me, I have to close the door to take the chain off."

"Sure," Kelly said.

The door closed. The chain slid back, and the door opened.

"I'm Trip Pollinger," the man said. "What is this about?"

He was slender and white-haired. His face was young and evenly ta

"Perhaps we shouldn't talk in the hall," Kelly said.

"Oh, excuse me. Where are my ma

The room was long and narrow and brightened by a floor-to-ceiling window at the far end. There were two skylights in the ceiling. It was furnished with the kind of angular modern furniture that Jesse had seen in showroom windows, but never in a home. A Picasso hung over the sofa. It showed a man/bull having his way with a woman. Jesse assumed it was a reproduction copy. Pollinger didn't look that affluent.

"Would you like coffee?" Pollinger said. "Something to drink? A Coke? Perrier? I assume I can't offer you anything hard while you're on duty."

Kelly said, "No thank you," and nodded at Jesse.

"Mr. Pollinger," Jesse said. "Yesterday afternoon I followed a very young woman to your apartment and waited outside for an hour and twenty minutes until she came out. She then walked over to Copley Square and caught a cab and I lost her."

"A young woman?"

"A girl," Jesse said. "Maybe fifteen."

"You followed her?"

"Yes, sir. She rang your bell, and went in, and stayed for eighty minutes."

"I don't know anything about it," Pollinger said.

"I want to find that girl," Jesse said.

"There wasn't any girl," Pollinger said.

"She was sent by Alan Garner."

"Did he tell you that?"

"I'm not after you, Mr. Pollinger, I'm after the girl."

"I don't know anything about a girl," Pollinger said.

Jesse sighed. He looked at Kelly. Kelly shrugged.