Melancholy Baby

27

The two men leaned somewhat wearily against the car. Spike stood in front of them and a little to the side, with his hands in his hip pockets. I had zipped up my purse, with my gun in it. Neither of them was dangerous anymore. Shades’s name was Lewis Karp. The other one was Sal Brunelli.

“Guy came to see me,” Lewis said.

“What was his name?”

“Didn’t say.”

I said, “Tell me about him.”

“Said he was a lawyer from New York.”

“New York City?”

“Yeah, I guess. Said he got my name from a guy in New York. Said he heard from this guy that I could organize something.”

“You know the guy he got your name from?”

“Didn’t say. I figure it’s probably a guy I did business with down there. Guy named Rosen. Ike Rosen.”

I had my notebook out and was writing down names.

“You talk to Ike,” Lewis said, “don’t say I told you.”

“Of course,” I said. “What kind of business are you in?”

“Lawyer.”

Spike snorted.

“I got a law degree,” Lewis said. “I do criminal law.”

“I’ll bet you do,” Spike said.

“Is Ike a lawyer, too?” I said.

“Sure.”

“Address?”

“I don’t know. All I got is a phone number.”

“I want it,” I said.

“You aren’t going to tell Ike you got it from me?”

“No,” I said.

“It’s in my Palm Pilot,” he said.

“Where is it?” Spike said.

“My briefcase. In the car.”

“Stay put,” Spike said.

He went to the car and came back with the Palm Pilot. Lewis got the phone number, and I wrote it down. Standing near Lewis, Spike was rocking slightly back and forth, hands still in his hip pockets. No cars had passed us since we’d been there. The sun had moved a little west. Birds still chirped. Squirrels still darted haltingly about.

“Don’t make stuff up,” Spike said to Lewis.

I said, “He wouldn’t lie to us, Spike.”

“I’m not lying.”

Spike smiled at him and didn’t say anything.

“What did the gentleman want?” I said.

“He said could I put together a little something to scare off someone who was annoying his client.”

“Was he a lawyer?”

“I thought he was.”

“Takes one to know one,” Spike said pleasantly to Sal.

Sal didn’t look at him. Lewis looked at me.

“So let’s not make this twenty questions,” I said. “Tell me all about it and maybe you can get out of here without Spike stepping on your face.”

“Told me the girl’s name. Said he wanted her scared off. Wanted the investigation stopped.”

“He say what investigation?”

“No. He gave me the girl’s dorm address and told me to tell her that and rough her up.”

“Did you get paid?”

“Of course,” Lewis said.

“How?”

“Guy gave me five grand. Cash. I give half to Sal and we go do it.”

“So how’d you get to me?” I said.

“Got another visit. Same guy. Said you needed to get the same message. Gimme your license plate numbers, told me to find you.”

“What was I worth?”

“Same thing. Five.”

“You should have charged more,” I said. “How do I reach you?”

“I got an office in the South End,” he said. “Warren Street. I work out of my home.”

Spike took a business card from his pocket, and held it up. The card said Lewis Karp, Attorney at Law, with an address in Brighton.

“From your briefcase,” Spike said.

“Oh, shit,” Lewis said.

He looked at me.

“Well, hell, I mean, can you blame me not wanting Godzilla” — he nodded at Spike — “knowing where to find me.”

“You are dumb, even for a lawyer,” I said. “I have the registration number off your car. Do you think I wouldn’t have checked?”

Lewis shrugged.

“I dunno,” he said.

“We’re going to continue the investigation,” I said.

Lewis nodded.

“No one is going to bother Sarah Markham again,” I said.

“No.”

“If anyone does — you, Sal, the mystery lawyer, Britney Spears, anyone — it won’t matter. We will come looking for you.”

“I can’t control...” Lewis started.

“I don’t care. Spike doesn’t care. Do you, Spikey?”

“I want to visit with you again,” Spike said. “I like guys that will beat up a twenty-one-year-old girl without even knowing why.”

“If anything happens to her,” I said, “you are dead.”

Spike opened his coat wide enough so that they could see the big Army .45 he was wearing. Nobody said anything.

“Go,” I said.

The two men went to their car. Sal was walking uncomfortably. Spike and I watched them drive away.

“I’ll drive you to your car,” I said.

Spike looked at me as if he was about to say something serious.

“Spikey?” he said.

“I try to remain girlish,” I said.

Spike grinned. “Me too,” he said.