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“I protect my informant.”
I nodded. Snow fell softly out onto West Broadway. Smoke billowed up from the diner down the street. A crowd emerged from the T station, and a handful of people replaced them.
Co
“I’m the best chance you got for getting that kid back,” Co
“Then bring in Fly
“I can do more damage with Fly
“C’mon, Spenser,” Hawk said. “Trust the nice man.”
“Why don’t you shut the fuck up,” Co
“This Mossberg been modified for military use,” Hawk said. “Twenty-gauge, with a kick like a mule. Leaves a nasty hole through a man.”
“I don’t give a shit who you know with the staties,” Co
“If you’re going to play with us, Co
“‘Toast’?” Hawk said. “Shit, this might be worth it.”
I lifted up my free hand. “We get the kid. Then talk.”
“Fly
“I had a sneaking suspicion.”
“He’s a suspect in more than fifty killings. I can get him personally on about twelve. But I want it all. I want to use him up till he’s dry and then send him to jail for the rest of his life.”
“For some reason I don’t see how your plan fits with the Bureau’s code of conduct.”
“Fuck that,” Co
I shrugged.
“Just tell me where to find Theresa Donovan,” Co
Officer Barrett didn’t know about Theresa being brought in as a witness. Quirk and Belson had kept a lid on it, as I knew they would.
“If we arrange a meet,” I said, “I’d prefer it wasn’t in Southie. No offense.”
Co
“Looks like you got at least one patrol guy on the team,” I said. “Probably a lot more.”
“Ah, shit,” Co
“Try me,” I said.
I heard and felt Hawk’s breathing behind my right shoulder.
“Give me an address, and I’ll make sure the kid goes free.”
“You tell Fly
Co
“Public place,” I said. “And not in Southie.”
Co
“Again, not so original, Tommy.”
“If you want to monkey-fuck us with Boston police, this will all go to hell. Jack Fly
“Me, too.” Hawk stepped forward. “Hard to prosecute if they can’t find your body.”
“What the fuck does that mean?” Co
“Little girl better not have a hair out of place,” Hawk said. “If she do, there go
Co
60
Kind of a theatrical choice, ain’t it?” Hawk asked.
“I aim to please,” I said.
We stood on the granite steps leading up to the Bunker Hill monument in Charlestown. The battle and monument were actually on Breed’s Hill, but after a couple hundred years, I guess the name had stuck. It was still snowing, dusting the steps, and floating past the glowing lamps by the granite obelisk. Over the winter, snow had accumulated on the top of the piked iron fence.
It was almost eight o’clock, and it had grown very cold and very dark. The waiting was always the toughest part. But when the bad guys set the time, you don’t have much choice. Fly
The lights were on in the brick town houses surrounding the square. Everything seemed very hushed in the snowfall.
A sign for the Freedom Trail a
“And you tell me how Charlestown is better than Southie.”
“It’s more integrated,” I said.
“Maybe in the projects,” Hawk said.
“And they have Old Ironsides.”
“We good on your witness?”
“Quirk’s got it,” I said. “Co
“Wired?” Hawk said.
“They got more bugs in that place than a bait shop.”
“Bait shop do have lots of bugs.”
“We pull this off, maybe you and I go fishing.”
“‘We’ll take the car and drive all night,’” Hawk said. “‘We’ll get drunk.’”
“Play it, Sam.”
“Yes-suh, Mr. Rick.”
Hawk began to whistle “As Time Goes By.”
“You fish?” I asked. I leaned against the handrail. My hands in my coat pockets. A .38 in my right hand. A .40-caliber strapped under my arm.
“Nope.”
“I fished a lot as a kid,” I said. “Lots of good places to fish in Wyoming.”
“Don’t really care to fish,” Hawk said.
I nodded.
“Prefer to hunt.”
I nodded.
Up the long steps, the statue of William Prescott brandished his sword. Hawk caught me staring. “Don’t shoot till you see the whites.”
“I think you have that a bit mixed up,” I said.
“Do I?” Hawk asked.
He kept the shotgun on a modified rig under his black leather trench coat. He wore the .44 Magnum on his belt. The leather coat covered both very nicely.
I wore my peacoat and Red Sox knitted cap. I had on a well-worn pair of Red Wing boots with steel toes in case the fight got down and dirty. I did not expect the transition to go smoothly. I fingered the S&W .40-caliber in my right pocket.
“Always been guys like Co
I nodded.
“Don’t make it right.”
“Nope,” I said.
“You hear him call me a spook?”
“I did.”
“Who uses the word ‘spook’ anymore?”
“Anachronisms.”
“And assholes.”
“Co
My cell phone rang. I took the call. Hawk watched everything without showing a thing on his face.
“We got a visitor,” Belson said. “But it ain’t Co
“Crapola.”
“He’s in the lobby with Theresa,” Belson said. “Lots of people. We saw him make a call.”
At the base of the steps up to the monument, a black Ford SUV pulled to the curb. Jack Fly
“Boom,” Hawk said, eyeing him.
The SUV took off. I walked down a couple steps and met Fly
“Excuse me if we don’t shake hands,” I said.
“Once we know we’re not being followed, you can have the kid.”
“Gee,” I said. “Such a swell guy.”
Jack Fly
“Don’t make this hard.”
“You made the play.”
You could smell him. Jack Fly
“I don’t kill kids,” Fly
“Got to draw the line somewhere.”