Stone cold

They didn’t need to work.

Suitcase Simpson came into the office.

“There were eleven cab fares in the last week,” Suit said, “out

of Paradise. Seven of them went to the airport. Two went to the Northeast Mall. One went to New England Baptist Hospital. One went to Wonderland Dog Track.”

“In the winter?” Jesse said.

“They run all year,” Suit said.

“In this weather it would be easier just to mail them a check,”

Jesse said.

“You California guys are wimps,” Suit said. “Hardy New

Englanders like to be there when they lose it.”

Jesse nodded.

“So they could have cabbed to the airport, picked up the rental,

drove it to the mall.”

“Or one of them could have, and the other one could have picked

him up and driven him home in the Saab.”

“They like to do things together,” Jesse said.

“So you figure they both went for the rental car, and drove it

to the mall in time for the shootout?”

“Yes.”

“What if they rented it the day before,”

Suit said, “and parked

it at the mall?”

“The car would have been parked there overnight. It might have

attracted attention. And they’d have had to take a cab to the mall

on the day of the shooting.”

“Why wouldn’t they have just driven the Saab over and left it

when they swapped cars?”

“Don’t know. Maybe they’re so

yuppied out that they couldn’t

bear to abandon the Saab.”

“Hell, Jesse, they abandoned it anyway, along with their

condo.”

“Yeah, but it was safely parked in the garage. We are not

dealing with entirely rational people here.”

“You think they’re crazy?”

“They’ve killed a bunch of people for no apparent

reason.”

“Good point,” Suit said. “Either

way we’re looking for cab rides

on the day of the shooting.”

Jesse said, “Isn’t there a subway station near the dog

track?”

“Yeah. On the Blue Line. We used to take it into Boston when I

was a kid. Buncha stops: Revere Beach, Orient Heights, the airport, Maverick Square in East Boston.”

Jesse nodded.

“Okay,” he said. “Check the cabs

to the airport and to

Wonderland on that day. Talk to the drivers. See if they can describe who they took, and where they picked them up. Get a list of names from all the rental companies at the airport, who they rented a car to that day.”

“That’s going to take some

time,” Suit said.

“It might,” Jesse said. “Or you

might score the first guy you

ask.”

“Not likely,” Suit said.

“Just as likely as last,” Jesse said.

“No,” Suit said. “It never

happens like that.”

Jesse shrugged.

When Suit was gone, Jesse looked at the fire engines some more.

So, where would they go? They were free to go anywhere. They

dearly had plenty of money. Tony’s ocular sca

true, he’d hold a patent on it … If he held a patent on it,

they’d have it at the U.S. Patent Office … which would have a

website.

Jesse stood and opened his office door and yelled,

“Molly.”

When she came in, he said, “Are you as expert on the Internet as

you are at everything else?”

“You sound like my husband,” Molly said,

“when he wants

something.”

“I need crime fighting help,” Jesse said.

“You really don’t want to do this

yourself,” Molly said. “Do

you.”

“I need you to find the U.S. Patent Office on the Web and see

who has patented an optical sca

“Everybody?”

The Lincolns appeared to be in their late forties.

“Everybody in, oh, say, the last twenty-five years.”

“And while I’m doing that,”

Molly said, “you’ll be in here

oiling your baseball glove? Thinking of spring?”

“Hey,” Jesse said,

“I’m the chief of police.”

Molly smiled and saluted.

“Of course you are,” she said.

“I’ll see what I can

find.”

68

Jesse sat with Marcy Campbell in the Indigo Apple drinking coffee.

“Rita Fiore never called me back,” he said.

“Maybe she’s decided she won’t

waste any more time with

you.”

“Even though I’m a sexual

athlete?”

“It sounds like Rita wants, excuse the phrase, a relationship” Marcy said.

“And she’s thinks I’m not a good

candidate?”

“You’re not,” Marcy said.

“I know.”

“And she knows.”

Jesse nodded.

“She wants a husband,” Jesse said.

“Or the equivalent,” Marcy said.

“I think she’s had several of those

already.”

“Give her credit,” Marcy said,

“for fierce

optimism.”

“There are women who need a mate, I guess.”

“People,” Marcy said.

“People?”

“Men and women,”

Marcy said, “who feel incomplete

unless they are mated.”

“You’re not one of them,” Jesse

said.

“No. I like sex and I like companionship, but not at the expense

of my freedom or my self.”

Jesse broke off a small piece of orange cranberry muffin and ate

it. When he had swallowed, he said, “Maybe I’m one of

them.”

“Well,” Marcy said.

“You’re an odd case. You’re like me, except

for Je

to a new relationship just to have it. It’s why we get along so

well, neither of us requires commitment from the other.”

Jesse laughed. “Which produces,” he said,

“a kind of commitment

to each other.”

“I suppose so,” Marcy said. “But

not for the same reasons. I am

true to myself. You are true to Je

“Which may be a way of being true to myself.”

Marcy nodded.

“Or maybe obsessive.”

“There’s that,” Jesse said.

Marcy sipped her coffee, holding the mug in both hands.

“But goddamnit,” she said,

“I’ll give you credit, you are true

to it, whatever the hell it is.”

“Well, the thing is,” Jesse said.

“I love her.”

“That simple,” Marcy said.

Jesse nodded.

“Is there anything Je

up?” Marcy said.

“She could tell me that she had no further interest in me,”

Jesse said. “If she told me that I’d move on.”

“Which gives her control,” Marcy said.

“I suppose.”

“That doesn’t bother you?”

“I don’t care about stuff like

that,” Jesse said. “I love her.

We’re still co

Marcy drank some coffee, and looked at Jesse for a while, and shook her head slowly. Jesse watched her.

“You have given over the crucial decision of your life to

someone else,” Marcy said. “And what’s so odd is that it seems to

be evidence of your autonomy.”

“Autonomy,” Jesse said.

“Don’t be cute. You know what it

means.”

“Sort of.”

“You feel strongly. You trust what you feel. And you proceed

with it.”

“True,” Jesse said.

“It’s the same in your work. You know what you know, and you do

what you do and you plow along doing it.”

“Like a mule,” Jesse said.

“Or a jackass.”

Jesse smiled.

“Same thing,” he said. “More or

less.”

“If you ever work it out with Je

“Sure,” Jesse said.

“And fuck buddies?”

Jesse breathed slowly in and slowly out. He looked at Marcy for

a moment. Then he smiled slightly and shook his head.

“Probably not,” he said.

69

Suit and Molly sat at the long table in the conference room.