Night Passage

Chapter 15

Jesse sat in his office in the early evening with Abby Taylor.

“The selectmen have asked me to talk with you,” she said.

“Good,” Jesse said.

She was wearing a black suit with a long jacket and a short skirt. At least she didn’t have on one of those frilly neck pieces that some professional women wore like a pretend necktie; her white blouse was open at the neck. Her briefcase was on the floor leaning against the leg of her chair. She wore black high-heeled shoes. Jesse thought her ankles were very nice.

“I’m speaking now as town counsel,” Abby Taylor said carefully.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“May I call you Jesse?”

“Of course, Abby.”

She smiled automatically.

“Now, I know,” she said, “that you are new not only to this job, but to this environment.”

Jesse smiled helpfully.

“But whatever the circumstances of your police work in Los Angeles, this is a town in which everyone’s civil liberties are important.”

Jesse nodded. He seemed interested.

“May I be frank with you?” Abby Taylor said.

“Sure.”

“You cannot go about beating people up,” she said. “It leaves the town vulnerable to lawsuit. I understand the provocation. And I certainly am sympathetic to Carole Genest’s situation. But we cannot permit you to take the law into your own hands. It is not only illegal. It simply is not right.”

Jesse nodded thoughtfully.

“Let me ask you a question,” he said.

“Of course.”

“You asked me if you could call me Jesse, and I said you could. But you didnʼt.”

“Excuse me?”

“You never used my name.”

“What the hell has that got to do with you brutalizing Mr. Genest?”

“Just seemed odd to me,” Jesse said.

“Well, if it does, it does,” Abby Taylor said. “I’m not going to be sidetracked.”

“Course not, Abby.”

“Do you have anything to say about the matter of your assault on Mr. Genest?”

“Not really,” Jesse said.

“Iʼm afraid there has to be more than that,” Abby Taylor said.

“The restraining order wasn’t working,” Jesse said. “Think of me as implementing it.”

“You really have to take this seriously,” Abby Taylor said.

“ ‘You have to take this more seriously, Jesse,’ ” he said.

Abby Taylor smiled.

“You have to take this more seriously, Jesse.”

“No I don’t, Abby.”

“You don’t make it easy... Jesse.”

He nodded and leaned back a little in his chair. His blue uniform shirt was tailored and carefully pressed. He had nice eyes, she noticed, with small wrinkles at the corners as if he had spent a lot of time squinting into the sun.

“Jo Jo Genest should be kicked in the balls once a day,” Jesse said. “He’s terrorizing his ex-wife. He’s frightening his children. When Anthony went up there the youngest two were under the bed. There’s a restraining order in place. He paid no attention to it. It was necessary to get his attention.”

Abby was silent for a time, frowning, as she thought about his answer. He watched her think. He liked the way the small vertical wrinkle appeared between her eyebrows when she frowned.

“The selectmen are aware of the provocation,” Abby said. “And they are prepared to go forward from here. But they would like your assurance that something like this will not occur in the future.”

“It might,” Jesse said.

“God,” Abby said. ‘You don’t give a damn inch, do you?”

Jesse smiled.

“Since you drew it up,” Jesse said, “you know that my contract here provides recourse to the selectmen if they are dissatisfied with my performance.”

“So, you’re saying the ball is in their court.”

“Yes.”

They looked at each other. Abby held his look, feeling challenged by it. Then she smiled.

“God, you are so much harder than you look.”

Jesse smiled again.

“And what’s my name?”

“Jesse.”

They laughed. Abby sat back in her chair and crossed her legs.

“I mean you look like a history teacher,” she said. “Who might coach tennis on the side.”

Jesse didn’t say anything. He was looking at her legs.

“And yet you handled Jo Jo Genest.”

“Experience is helpful,” Jesse said.

“Have you had that much experience with people like Genest?”

“In L.A. I worked South Central,” Jesse said. “People in South Central would keep Jo Jo for a pet.”

“No one ever confronted him before like that.”

“Guess it was time,” Jesse said.

“You won, but don’t misjudge him. He can he very dangerous.”

“Anybody can be very dangerous, Abby.”

“I believe he has mob connections.”

“ ‘Jesse.’ ”

She smiled.

“Jesse,” she said.

“Good. You married?”

“I don’t see what that has to do with the issue before us,” she said.

“Me either,” Jesse said.

“I’m happily divorced,” Abby said. “Five years.”

“Taylor your own name?”

“Yes.”

They were silent again. Outside his office he could hear the sporadic murmur of the dispatcher’s voice. The occasional sound of a door opening and closing. It was a lulling sound, it went with quiet summer nights and green space in the center of a small town. The office itself was very spare. Jesse’s desk was bare except for the phone and a pair of gold-tinted Oakley sunglasses. There was a window behind his chair which looked out at the driveway of the fire station. A green metal file cabinet stood to the right of the window. There was no rug on the floor. No pictures of anyone.

“Have you ever been married?” Abby said.

“Yes.”

“But you’re not married now.”

“No.”

“Divorced?”

“Yes.”

“Jesse, one of the rules of conversation is that when asked a question you don’t give a one-word answer.”

Jesse looked at his watch.

“Okay,” he said. “It’s suppertime, want to have dinner with me?”

Abby opened her mouth and closed it. She had come in to reprimand this man and he didn’t seem reprimanded.

“I... I don’t... certainly,” she said. “I’d love to.”