CHAPTER 10


I was in Martin Quirk’s office in Boston Police Headquarters on Boylston. Quirk’s office overlooked Stanhope Street, which was much more of an alley than a street.

Quirk was wearing a beige corduroy jacket today, with a tattersall shirt and a maroon knit tie. His dark thick hair was cut very short and his thick hands were nicely manicured. He was sitting at his desk so I couldn’t see his pants, but I knew they’d be creased and his shoes would gleam with polish and would match his belt. His desk was empty except for a picture of his wife, children, and dog.

“You are the neatest bastard I ever saw,” I said. “Except maybe Hawk.”

“So?” Quirk said.

“And the gabbiest.”

Quirk didn’t say anything. He merely sat, his hands quiet on the bare desk top.

“You called me,” I said.

“How you doing on the killing outside Double Deuce?” Quirk said.

“We’re hanging around awaiting developments,” I said.

“And?”

“Hobarts have noticed us.”

“And?”

“And nothing much. Kid named Major Johnson seems to run things.”

“They make a run at you yet?”

“Nothing serious,” I said. Quirk nodded.

“Will be,” Quirk said. “They buzz the kid and her baby?”

“Probably,” I said. “They seem to be the force in Double Deuce.”

“You doing any investigating or are you just sitting around scaring the Homies?”

“Mostly sitting,” I said.

“Anybody in the project talk with you?”

“Nearly as much as they talk with you,” I said. Quirk nodded.

“Tillis got a line on anything?”

“He thinks I’m the white Satan.”

“He thinks whatever will get his face on television,” Quirk said. “Just happens to be right this time.”

“Be more photo opportunities if the kids were white.”

Quirk shrugged.

“You got any problem with us looking into this?” I said.

“No,” Quirk said. “I hope you find out who did it and Hawk kills him. What’s he doing in this?”

“Hard to say about Hawk,” I said.

“We won’t bother you,” Quirk said. “I want someone to go down for killing the kid and her baby. We got the slugs. We can identify the gun if we find it.”

“I know,” I said. “Nine millimeter. I’ll keep an eye out.”

“Not hard to find on Hobart Street,” Quirk said. “We can help, we will. Hawk wants to handle it his way, be fine with me.”

“Me too,” I said.

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