CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

THE AQUARIUM IS NEAR Harbor Towers, and I walked to it. Inside, it was nearly empty at midday, dark and cool and unconnected with the city outside. I went up the spiral walkway around it and watched the fish glide in silent pattern around and around the tank, swimming at different strata, sharks and groupers and turtles and fish I didn’t know in the clear water. They were oblivious of me and seemed oblivious of each other as they swam in a kind of implacable order around and around the tank. The spiral walk was open and the rest of the aquarium was spacious. Below the flat pool, bottom lit and cool green, silhouetted other, smaller fish, black and quick in the bright water.

A small group of children, perhaps a second-grade class on a field trip, came in, shepherded by a plump little nun with horn-rimmed glasses. After a fast inspection of the fish, the children ignored them and began to enjoy the building and the space as if the real occasion for the visit was not the fish but the feel of the aquarium. The kids ran up and down the spiral and looked over the balcony and yelled at each other from above and below. The nun made no serious attempt to shush them, and the open space and the darkness seemed to absorb the noise. It was still nearly quiet.

I stood and stared in through the six-inch-thick glass windows of the tank and watched the sharks, small, well fed, and without threat, as they glided in their endless circle. I had screwed up the situation. I knew that. I had made Frank Doerr mad and Doerr was a cuckoo. Maynard was right not to buy what I was selling. Doerr wouldn’t let Maynard off the hook and he wouldn’t bargain with me. Maybe he never would have, but his honor was at stake now and he’d die before he let me talk him into, or scare him into, doing anything.

A small boy pushed in front of me to stare through the glass. His belt was too long, I noticed, and the surplus had been tucked through his belt loops halfway around his body.

Another kid joined him and I found myself being moved away from the fish tank. Kids already know how to block out, I thought. I walked off the spiral and looked at the penguins on the first balcony. They were the false note in the place. There was no glass wall, no separation between us except six feet of space. The smell of fish and, I supposed, penguin was rank and uninsulated. I didn’t like it. The silent fish in the lucid water were fantasy. The smelly penguins were real.

I went on back down the spiral and out into the bright hot day that met me with a clang as I came out of the aquarium. I could put Doerr and Maynard away by going to the cops. But that would humiliate Linda Rabb and probably get Marty Rabb barred from baseball. I could disarm Doerr and Maynard by getting Linda to make a public confession. But that would have the same results. The top was down on my car and the seats were hot and uncomfortable when I got in. I couldn’t shake Maynard loose from Doerr. Doerr was the key and I had handled him wrong. If I got near him again, he’d try to kill me. It made negotiations difficult.

Back to the Rabbs. The lobby attendant called up, and Marty Rabb was waiting for me at the apartment door. His face was white, and the hinge muscles of his jaw were bunched.

”You sonovabitch,“ he said. His voice was hoarse.

”Maybe,“ I said, ”but that won’t help.“

”What do you want now, plant a bug in our bedroom maybe?“

”I don’t want to talk about it out in the corridor.“

”I don’t give a shit what you don’t want. I don’t want you in my goddamned house, stinking up the place.“

”Look, kid, I feel lousy and I understand how you feel, and I don’t blame you, but I need to talk and I can’t do it out here in the hall with you yelling at me.“

”You’re lucky I’m yelling, you bastard. You’re lucky I don’t knock you on your ass.“

Linda Rabb came to the door beside her husband. ”Let him in, Marty,“ she said. ”We’re in trouble. Yelling won’t change that. Neither will hitting him.“

”The sonovabitch caused it. We were doing all right till he came sticking his goddamned nose into things.“

”I caused it as much as he did, Marty. I’m the whore, not Spenser.“

Rabb turned at her. ”I don’t want to hear you say that again,“ he said. ”Not again. I won’t have any talk like that in my house. I don’t want my son hearing that kind of talk.“

Linda Rabb’s voice sounded as if she were tired. ”Your son’s not home, Marty; he’s at nursery. You know that. Come in, Spenser.“ She pulled Rabb away from the door, holding his right arm in both her hands. I went in.

I sat on the edge of the sofa. Rabb didn’t sit. He stood looking at me with his hands clenched. ”Be goddamned careful what you say, Spenser. I want to belt you so bad I can feel it in my guts, and if you make one smart remark, I’m going to level you.“

”Marty, you are the third person this morning who has offered to disassemble my body. You are also third in order of probable success. I can’t throw a baseball like you can, but the odds are very good that I could put you in the hospital before you ever got a hand on me.“ I was getting sick of people yelling at me.

”You think so.“

I was proud of myself. I didn’t say, ”I know so.“

Linda Rabb let go of his arm and came around in front of him and put both her arms around his waist. ”Stop it, Marty. Both of you, grow up. This isn’t a playground where you little boys can prove to each other how tough you are.

This is our home and our future and little Marty and our life.

You can’t handle every problem as if it were an arm-wrestling contest.“ Her voice was getting thicker and she pressed her face against Rabb’s chest. I knew she was crying, and I bet it wasn’t the first time today.

”But, Jesus Christ, Linda, a man’s gotta—“ She screamed at him, the voice muffled against his chest. ”Shut up. Just shut up about a man’s gotta.“

I wished I smoked. It would have given me something to do with my hands. Rabb put his arms around his wife and rubbed the top of her head with his chin.

”I don’t know,“ he said. ”I don’t know what in hell to do.“

”Me either,“ I said. ”But if you’d sit down, maybe we could figure something out.“

Linda Rabb said, ”Sit down, Marty,“ and pushed him away from her with both hands against his chest. He sat. She sat beside him, her head turned away, and wiped her eyes with a Kleenex.

”I don’t know,“ Rabb said again. He was sitting on the edge of the couch, his elbows on his thighs, his hands clasped together between his knees, staring at his thumbnails. Then he looked up at me.

”How much does Erskine know?“ he said.

”Nothing. He had heard just the hint that something might not be square. He hired me to prove it was square. He wants to believe it’s square and you’re square.“

”Yeah,“ Rabb said, ”I’m square okay. You got any good ideas?“

”Your wife’s told you what I said yesterday?“ He nodded. ”I’ve talked with Doerr and I’ve talked with Maynard.

Doerr won’t let go of Maynard and Maynard won’t let go of you. He’s too scared.“

”Maynard really is in debt to a loan shark?“

”Yes.“

”I can’t see anything else to do but keep on the way we have been,“ Rabb said.

”If you can stand it,“ I said.

”You can stand what you can’t change,“ Rabb said.

”You got a better idea?“

”You could blow the whistle.“

Linda Rabb had finished with her Kleenex and was looking at us again.

”Yes,“ she said.

”No,“ Rabb said.

”Marty,“ she said.

”No.“

”Marty,“ she said again, ”we can’t stand it. I can’t stand it. I can’t stand the guilt and watching how you feel every time you lose a game so they can make money.“

”I don’t always have to lose,“ he said. ”Sometimes I give up a run or two for the inning pools.“

”Don’t quibble, Marty. You’re in a funk for a week after every letter. You have lived too long believing in do-or-die for dear old Siwash. It’s killing you and it’s killing me.“

”I’m not having your name blabbed all over the country. You want your kid to hear that kind of talk about his mother. Maybe we should show him the movie.“

”It will pass, Marty. He’s only three.“

”And it’ll make nice talk in the bullpen, you know. You want me to listen to those bastards laughing in the dugout when I go out to pitch? Or maybe that doesn’t matter either because if it gets out that I been dumping games I won’t be pitching anyway. You want that?“

”No, but I don’t want this either, Marty.“

”Yeah, well maybe you should have thought of that when you were spreading your legs in New York.“

I felt a jangle of shock in my solar plexus. Linda Rabb never flinched. She looked at her husband steadily. The silence hung between them. It was Rabb who broke it. ”Jesus, honey, I’m sorry,“ he said and put his arms around her. She didn’t pull away, but her body was as stiff and remote as a wire coat hanger and her eyes were focused on something far beyond the room as he held her.

”Jesus,“ he said again, ”Jesus Christ, what is going to happen to us? What are we going to do?“

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