Cold Service

44

THE GRAY MAN, wearing a snap-brimmed hat with a wide brim, was leaning on the wall at the Wonderland MBTA station, reading the Boston Herald. Across from the dog track, Wonderland was the last subway station on the blue line, running north from Boston. Hawk and I walked down the platform and stood next to him. He paid us no attention. It was midmorning, and the station wasn't crowded.

"So far, so good," Hawk said.

The Gray Man kept reading his paper.

"Fadeyushka is dead?" he said.

"Yeah, and Rimbaud is blaming Boots."

The Gray Man nodded.

"When they find him," the Gray Man said, "the police will come at once to Podolak."

"And with a little help from you," I said, "Boots will blame Rimbaud."

"Describe the details," the Gray Man said.

Hawk told him.

"The window could have shattered in the exchange of gunfire," the Gray Man said.

Hawk nodded.

"This won't stand up if there's a real investigation by some good cops," I said.

The Gray Man smiled and looked up from his newspaper.

"Where would we find them?" he said.

"Good point," I said.

"Is the body easily visible?" the Gray Man said.

"No," Hawk said.

"Then discovery may not be imminent," the Gray Man said.

"Perhaps an anonymous tip," I said.

The Gray Man smiled his evanescent smile.

"Any theory on Boots's reaction?" I said.

The Gray Man shrugged.

"He cannot let it go," the Gray Man said.

He looked at Hawk.

"And the Ukrainians," he said, "whose number have depleted, will require revenge."

"You know that," I said.

"I know Ukrainians," he said.

"Racial profiling?" I said.

"I know Ukrainians," the Gray Man said. "And Marcus?"

"He don't like Rimbaud," Hawk said. "But it's his daughter's husband."

"I understand that she is not a particularly savory daughter," the Gray Man said.

"Still his daughter," Hawk said. "Tony can't let it happen."

"Besides," I said. "Both of them will think they've been double-crossed by the other one."

Hawk smiled.

"When in fact they double-crossed by us," he said.

"Which would annoy them both, should they discover it," the Gray Man said.

"And unite them in a common purpose," I said.

"Which would be?" the Gray Man said.

"Us," Hawk said.

"Fortunately," the Gray Man said, "at my end of the thing, we are not dealing with terribly smart people. How about Marcus."

"Tony pretty smart," Hawk said.

The Gray Man nodded, gazing across the platform at a young woman in a short, flowered dress.

"Well," he said. "That would be your end of the thing."