29

Susan sat near the window and looked out and was quiet while I looked for a bug. It was in the bowl of a ceiling lamp. Whoever put it in wasn't very inventive. It was the first place I looked. I took it out and put it in my pocket. Sometimes, if the subject probably expects to be bugged, you put in one he'll find easily and another one much harder to find, hoping that he'll think that disabling the first one takes care of it. I didn't think they expected me to look for a bug, but I snooped around the rest of the place anyway. No second bug. I took the one I'd found and flushed it down the toilet.

"That should make an interesting transmission," Susan said. "Are we free to talk?"

"Let's risk it," I said.

"Why would they bug our room?"

"To confirm my reputation as a sexual Goliath."

"Lucky you found the bug," Susan said. "Another reason?"

"Same reason Coop's been schmoozing me, same reason they invited me. They want to get a handle on me, they want to know what I know."

"So you feel that they're involved in Rowley's death?"

"Don't know. They could just be trying to make it go away so they can return to the unfettered pursuit of profit."

"Do you really think," Susan said, "that one murder would have a serious effect on their business."

I didn't say anything. Susan waited. "Well," she said. "Do you?"

"No," I said.

"So, there's something more," she said.

"So, there is," I said.

"I think Coop's plan includes charming you," Susan said, "so you'll think he's swell, and Kinergy is swell, and nobody there could ever do something bad."

"That would be a lot of charm.

"Does Coop think he has lots of charm?"

"Of course," I said. "Never is heard a discouraging word."

"Of course it's really because he has power," Susan said.

"But he probably doesn't know the difference," I said. "Or chooses not to."

We were standing together looking out the window at the ocean-washed sand shoals that gave Chatham Bars Inn its name. There were some people on the beach, and some boats on the water, and blue distance beyond. I had my arm around Susan's shoulder. She had her arm around my waist.

"That was sort of ugly," Susan said, "Adele's question about if there was a fight would you win."

"I know. She must resent all the testosterone."

"It put the men in an impossible position unless one of them wanted to challenge you."

"Which would have been unseemly."

"And quite possibly dangerous," Susan said. "You are not exactly the Easter Bunny."

"Gavin tried a little," I said.

"Yes. The remark about martial arts. Do you think he's dangerous?"

"Sure.

"Do you think you could beat him up?"

"Sure."

"If you could keep her from molesting you," Susan said, "Adele might be interesting to talk with."

"If she knows anything."

"She must know something worth hearing. And she doesn't like those men."

"And might take pleasure in ratting them out?" I said.

"Discreetly," Susan said. "By innuendo. In the guise of being feminine, or witty, or simply so cute and sexy."

Susan put her head against my shoulder while we looked at the ocean.

"I don't want to sound sexually incorrect," I said, "but do you think she slept her way up the corporate ladder?"

"Adele?" Susan said. "Does a cat have an ass?"

"Okay," I said. "It's a job that's got to be done."

"And don't you dare enjoy it," Susan said.

I t was getting dark. The beach had emptied. The wind was quiet. The water moved more gently. The blue distance had shortened and darkened as it closed down onto the horizon.

"Pretty much," I said. "I think we enjoy each other."

"Yes," Susan said. "A lot."




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