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“And where do I fit in?”

“I want you to help me stop Juan Alvarez.”

I swirled the ice in my glass, then set it down again.

“I currently have a client,” I said. “Street Business. Jackie has asked for my help in eliminating a threat to its existence. Juan Alvarez is the principal support of Street Business, which you yourself acknowledge is a good place. Helping you bring down Juan Alvarez would seem to be a conflict.”

“Unlike Street Business, I can pay you,” she said.

“Not exactly the point,” I said.

She nodded. “If it is possible to bring down Juan without harming Street Business, will you help me?”

“I’d be a fool not to,” I said.

SUSAN WAS GIVING PEARL her afternoon homemade Christmas cookie. Because we were at Susan’s house, homemade meant cookies from Rosie’s Bakery in Inman Square.

“If we’re not careful,” she said, “Pearl will gain weight.”

“Maybe ‘we’ could try to wean her off the cookies,” I said.

“Never,” Susan said. “I think you need to run with her longer.”

“In that case,” I said, “I think I deserve a cookie, too.”

Susan brought a plate of Christmas cookies over to her coffee table. She sat down next to me on the sofa and rested her head on my shoulder.

“So do you believe Carmen?” she said.

“She has beautiful deep blue eyes.”

“Martin Quirk has beautiful blue eyes. Do you believe everything he tells you?”

“Oddly enough, Quirk’s eyes don’t seem to affect me in the same way,” I said.

“Hmm.” Susan nibbled on a small corner of cookie. Her self-control was awe-inspiring.

“You are suspicious of the te

“I am suspicious of all women who have beautiful blue eyes and athletes’ bodies.” She lifted her head up and took a sip of her chardo

“Based on what I’ve told you, what’s your professional opinion?”

“Impossible to say without seeing her in person. Not that I doubt what you’ve told me. But if what she’s saying is true, the most fascinating subject in this whole drama is Juan Alvarez.”

“How so?”

“Controlling, domineering personality. Needs to be loved and respected. Generous, devoted family patriarch. Yet also a vicious criminal.”

“Sounds like Michael Corleone in The Godfather.”

“Exactly,” Susan said. “In the movie, his personality evolved, or devolved, over time. That’s not always the case with dissociative disorders. But it is fascinating that a person can believe they are good, even when they are doing very bad things. They find a way to separate themselves from the bad, even when they are the direct cause.”

“I sometimes forget you went to Harvard,” I said. “I’m going to have to start writing the big words down.”

“You don’t need to write anything down,” she said. “I’ll just talk more slowly.”

Pearl wandered over to the coffee table and snuffled around the plate of cookies. Susan shooed her away. Pearl ambled back over to the fireplace, circled around three times, and then sat heavily on the rug in front of the fire.

“So,” I said, “based solely on what I’ve described, do you think Carmen is being truthful in her motivations?”

“Again, it’s impossible to tell for sure without seeing her. So much is revealed by body language, by tone and inflection of speech. But yes, it’s certainly possible she’s telling the truth. She sounds like a fundamentally strong woman who has taken some pretty significant knocks. She enjoyed some hard-earned success in a tough, highly competitive environment, and then spiraled down lower than she ever imagined she could go.”

“And now she wants to destroy the man who helped her back up?”

“Perhaps she’s reached a point in her recovery where she doesn’t need his support any longer, where she can stand on her own. She’s now able to see him for what he truly is.”

“And she couldn’t before, because he was her savior.”

“Yes. She needed to believe he was a good man just as much as he apparently does. It could also be that Slide is a trigger of sorts. For whatever reason, she’s protective of him in a way she’s never felt toward another human being, and that has caused her to see Alvarez in a different light.”

“So do you think I should help her?”

“You’ve already agreed to help her. What I’m curious about is what you plan to do if your commitments conflict.”

“You mean Jackie and Street Business.”

“Yes,” she said. “What if doing a good thing by bringing down Alvarez causes a bad thing to happen to a good cause?”

“Go with the greater good?”

“Is that the understanding you have with Jackie?”

“No, it’s not.”

“Then what?”

“‘First client wins’ doesn’t work, either.”

“No.”

“Then I guess I just need to make sure there’s no conflict.”

“Yes, you will.”

We were silent for a moment.

“Shall I start di

“Maybe we need to burn off those cookies first,” Susan said.

I looked over at Pearl, who was curled up and sleeping in front of the fire.

“She doesn’t look like she’s ready for a run,” I said.

“I’m sure we can agree on an alternative,” Susan said.

“Might it involve seeing you naked?”

“Only if you keep your eyes open.”

“Hot diggity.” I held out my hand. “Lay on, MacDuff!” I said.

And she did.

THE LIGHT SNOW BLEW AROUND in circles outside my office window. I was sharpening my powers of reasoning and analysis by reading comics in the Globe when Healy came in. He went to the coffeepot, poured himself a cup, added milk and sugar, and took a seat opposite my desk.

“Have some coffee,” I said.

“Generous of you to offer,” Healy said. He looked around. “Any bagels?”

Healy wore a light blue shirt and gray jacket with navy blue pants and a blue-and-red narrow striped tie.

I shook my head.

“What is that you’re reading?” He stirred his coffee.

“Tank McNamara .”

“Good to see you haven’t lost the love of learning.”

“I tried reading Aristotle,” I said, “but the comics have better pictures.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he said, “in case I ever learn to read.” He eyed me over the rim of his mug.

“Thanks for dropping by,” I said.

“You call, I spring into action,” he said. “Although I was expecting bagels.” He took another sip. “So what’s so confidential we couldn’t have this conversation over the phone.”