Bad Business

62

I sat most of the next day in my office with my feet up drinking too much coffee and looking out my window and thinking. I made some phone calls late in the afternoon, and at about 6:15 I stood with Hawk in the shelter of a doorway on West Newton Street across from where Lance and Darrin lived. It was raining again.

"They're still in there."

"They are," Hawk said."Should be having supper together."

"Which condo?"

"O'Mara," Hawk said.

"Okay, I got an appointment with Bernie and Ellen Eisen at seven-thirty," I said.

"Wouldn't want to be late," Hawk said and we went across the street.

The rain was hard, one of those humid weather downpours that usually don't last long, but also don't usually solve the humidity. It had to do with a high or a low or an occluded or a nimbus cloud or something. We got into the shelter of the tiny doorway. I was looking at the bell listings.

"Ah took the liberty of having some keys made," Hawk said. "Be on my expense report."

"You don't have an expense report," I said.

"Well, if I did, it be on it," Hawk said and opened the front door of O'Mara's town house and went in. I could hear classical music playing on a good sound system.

"Bach," Hawk whispered. "Brandenburg number three."

"So you say," I whispered.

The living room was to the right and past that the dining room. I could see O'Mara and Lance at dinner. There were candles, and a bottle of white wine in a bucket. They were both wearing coats and ties, as if they had dressed for dinner. When we came into the room, both men sat frozen for a moment, staring at us. The CD player was on a shelf next to the door. I shut it off. Lance put both his hands in his lap. I saw Hawk smile gently to himself. He walked around the table and stood near Lance.

"How did you get in here?" O'Mara said. "What on earth do you think you're doing?"

"We need you at a meeting," I said.

"Meeting? What in God's name are you talking about?"

"We need you to come to a meeting with Ellen and Bernie Eisen," I said.

"Don't be absurd," O'Mara said. "We're not going anywhere. "

"Ah but you are," I said. I took hold of the back of his jacket with both hands and lifted him out of his chair. He almost screamed, and his voice broke when he said, "Lance."

With a quick movement in his lap Lance took out a nine millimeter pistol. As he tried to cock it, Hawk took it away from him with his right hand, got a fistful of Lance's long hair with his left hand, and yanked Lance sideways out of his chair and stood him up.

"Gonna be the right caliber," he said to me, and dropped the nine into the side pocket of his raincoat.

L ance tried to hit him but Hawk held him at arm's length and Lance couldn't reach. He kicked at him without much success. He bit at Hawk's forearm. Hawk hit him with a six-inch right-hand punch and Lance went limp. Hawk let go of his hair and Lance sank to the floor.

"I hate biting," Hawk said

"Oh god," Darrin said. "Oh God, oh God, oh God."

I let him go and he threw himself onto the floor covering Lance with his body.

"Oh God," he said, "oh God."

A fter a moment Lance began to move a little and after another moment he sat up.

"He'll be okay," I said. "He just got his bell rung."

"Give him back his gun," O'Mara said to Hawk, "and we'll see how tough you are."

"Loyal," Hawk said to me.

"Nice trait," I said.

"Don't see much of it," Hawk said, "anymore."

"Get him on his feet," I said to O'Mara. "We need to get going."

"You can't just come in here," O'Mara said, "and, for God's sake, kidnap us."

"Sure we can," I said. "Let's go."

"Now," Hawk said.

O'Mara got Lance onto his feet. He looked at Hawk and made an odd reptilian noise. It was more than a hiss and less than a snarl, and it oozed out of him as if he didn't even know he was making it.

"Hum a little more of that," Hawk said. "Maybe I know the words."

L ance's eyes were very wide and round-looking, and his breathing was shallow and rapid and the nasty sound kept oozing. O'Mara had his arm around him and was whispering to him as we walked close together out of the town house and through the rain to the hydrant where I was parked. O'Mara got in back with Lance, with his arm still around him. Hawk got in front beside me and turned and rested his arm on the back of the seat and looked at O'Mara and Devaney. This time there was a silvery .44 Magnum revolver in his right hand. Nobody said anything. I started up, turned on the wipers, took a right onto Columbus Avenue, and went across the wet city.

By the time we circled the Common and got to the Eisens' building on Tremont, Lance had stopped making his reptilian sounds, though his breathing was still shallow and fast. He had not, as best I could tell, stopped staring at Hawk. Hawk, as best I could tell, didn't much care. Bernie and Ellen answered our ring together at their front door. When they saw O'Mara and Devaney they tried so hard to have no reaction that it was a reaction.

"I'll tell you right now," O'Mara said when we were inside and sitting in the living room, "they forced us to come here with them."

"Forced?" Bernie said.

"They hit Lance. The black man hit Lance."

Hawk smiled at Ellen.

"Kinda liked it," he said.

L ance hissed again. But briefly.

"Bernie?" Ellen said.

"What the fuck," Bernie Eisen said, "is going on here."

"Funny you should ask," I said.