Promised Land

Chapter 11

”What’s Hawk’s full name?“ Slade said.

”I don’t know,“ I said. ”Just Hawk.“

”He’s gotta have a full name.“

”Yeah, I know, but I don’t know what it is. I’ve known him about twenty years and I’ve never heard him called anything but Hawk.“

Slade shrugged and wrote Hawk on his pad of yellow, legal sized lined paper. ”Okay,“ he said. ”So you figure that Shepard owes money and isn’t paying and the guy he owes it to has sent a bone-breaker down. What’s Shepard’s story?“

”He has none,“ I said. ”He says he’s in business with Hawk and it’s got nothing to do with me.“

”And you don’t believe him.“

”Nope. First place Hawk doesn’t do business, with a big B like Shepard means. Hawk’s a free spirit.“

”Like you,“ Slade said.

I shook my head. ”Nope, not like me. I don’t hire out for the things Hawk does.“

”I heard you might,“ Slade said.

”From who?“

”Oh, guys I know up in Boston. I made a couple of calls about you.“

”I thought you were too busy keeping a close tail on the litterbugs,“ I said.

”I did it on my lunch hour,“ Slade said.

”Well, don’t believe all you hear,“ I said.

Slade almost smiled. ”Not likely,“ he said. ”How sure are you he was beat up?“

”Shepard? Certain. I’ve seen it done before, fact I’ve had it done before. I know the look and feel of it.“

”Yeah, it does stiffen you up some,“ Slade said. ”What’s Shepard’s story?“

”Says he fell downstairs.“

Slade wrote on his yellow pad again. ”You got thoughts on who hired Hawk?“

”I’m guessing King Powers. Hawk normally gives first refusal to Powers.“ Slade wrote some more on his pad. ”Powers is a shylock,“ I said. ”Used to…“

”I know Powers,“ Slade said.

”Anyway, he’s in trouble. Bad, I would guess, and he’s too scared to yell for help.“

”Or maybe too crooked.“

I raised both eyebrows at Slade. ”You know something I don’t,“ I said.

Slade shook his head. ”No, just wondering. Harv has always been very eager to get ahead. Not crooked really, just very ambitious. This leisure community he’s building is causing a lot of hassle and it doesn’t seem to be going up very fast, and people are beginning to wonder if something’s wrong.“

”Is there?“

”Hell,“ Slade said, ”I don’t know. You ever looked into a land swindle? It takes a hundred C.P.A.s and a hundred lawyers a hundred years just to find out if there’s anything to look into.“ Slade made a disgusted motion with his mouth. ”You usually can’t find out who owns the goddamned property.“

”Shepard doesn’t strike me as crooked,“ I said.

”Adolf Hitler was fond of dogs,“ Slade said. ”Say he’s not crooked, say he’s just overextended. Could be.“

”Yeah,“ I said, ”could be. But what are we going to do about it?“

”How the hell do I know. Am I the whiz-bang from the city? You tell me. We got, to my knowledge, no crime, no victim, no violation of what you big-city types would call the criminal statutes. I’ll have the patrol cars swing by his place more often and have everyone keep an eye out for him. I’ll see if the A.G.‘s office has anything on Shepard’s land operation. You got any other thoughts?“

I shook my head.

”You find his wife?“ Slade asked.

”Yeah.“

”She coming home?“

”I don’t think so.“

”What’s he going to do about that?“

”Nothing he can do.“

”He can go get her and drag her ass home.“

”He doesn’t know where she is. I wouldn’t tell him.“

Slade frowned at me for about thirty seconds. ”You are a pisser,“ Slade said. ”I’ll give you that.“

”Yeah.“

”Shepard take that okay?“

”No, he fired me. Told me that he was going to sue me.“

”So you’re unemployed.“

”I guess so.“

”Just another tourist.“

”Yep.“

Slade did smile this time. A big smile that spread slowly across his face making deep furrows, one on each cheek. ”Goddamn,“ he said and shook his head. ”Goddamn.“

I smiled back at him, warmly, got up and left. Back in my car, on the hot seats, with the top down, I thought something I’ve thought before. I don’t know what to do, I thought. I started the car, turned on the radio and sat with the motor idling. I didn’t even know where to go. Mrs. Shepard sure wasn’t happy, and Mr. Shepard sure wasn’t happy. That didn’t make them unusual of course. I wasn’t right at the moment all that goddamned happy myself. I supposed I ought to go home. Home’s where you can go and they have to take you in. Who said that? I couldn’t remember. Cynical bastard though. I put the car in gear and drove slowly down Main Street toward the motel. Course at my home there wasn’t any they. There was just me. I’d take me in any time. I stopped for a light. A red-haired girl wearing powder blue flared denim slacks and a lime-colored halter top strolled by. The slacks were so tight I could see the brief line of her underpants slanting across her buttocks. She looked at the car in a friendly fashion. I could offer her a drink and a swim and dazzle her with my Australian crawl. But she looked like a college kid and she’d probably want me to do some dope and rap about the need for love and a new consciousness. The light turned green and I moved on. A middle-aged grump with nowhere to go. It was a little after one when I pulled into the parking lot at my motel. Time for lunch. With renewed vigor I strode into the lobby, turned left past the desk and headed down the corridor toward my room. A fast wash, and then on to lunch. Who’d have thought but moments ago that I was without purpose. When I opened the door to my room Susan Silverman was lying on the bed reading a book by Erik Erikson and looking like she should.

I said, ”Jesus Christ, I’m glad to see you.“ With her finger in the book to keep her place she turned her head toward me and said, ”Likewise, I’m sure“ and grinned. Often she smiled, but sometimes she didn’t smile, she grinned. This was a grin. I never knew for sure what the difference was but it had something to do with gleeful wickedness. Her smile was beautiful and good, but in her grin there was just a hint of evil. I dove on top of her on the bed, breaking the impact of my weight with my arms, and grabbed her and hugged her.

”Ow,“ she said. I eased up a little on the hug, and we kissed each other. When we stopped I said, ”I am not going to ask how you got in here because I know that you can do anything you want to, and getting the management to aid and abet you in a B and E would be child’s play for you.“

”Child’s play,“ she said. ”How has it been with you, blue eyes?“

We lay on our backs on the bed beside each other while I told her. When I finished telling her I suggested an afternoon of sensual delight, starting now. But she suggested that it start after lunch and after a brief scuffle I agreed.

”Suze,“ I said in the dining room starting my first stein of Harp while she sipped a Margarita, ”you seemed uncommonly amused by the part where Jane tried to caponize me.“

She laughed. ”I think your hips are beginning to widen out,“ she said. ”Are you still shaving?“

”Naw,“ I said, ”it did no damage. If it had, all the waitresses here would be wearing black armbands and the flag would fly half-mast at Radcliffe.“

”Well, we’ll see, later, when there’s nothing better to do.“

”There’s never anything better to do,“ I said. She yawned elaborately.

The waitress came and took our order. When she’d departed Susan said, ”What are you going to do?“

”Jesus, I don’t know.“

”Want me to hang around with you while you do it?“

”Very much,“ I said. ”I think I’m in over my head with Pam, Rose and Jane.“

”Good, I brought my suitcase on the chance you might want me to stay.“

”Yeah, and I noted you unpacked it and hung up your clothes. Confidence.“

”Oh, you noticed. I keep forgetting you are a detective.“

”Spenser’s the name, clues are my game,“ I said. The waitress brought me a half-dozen oysters and Susan six soused shrimp. Susan looked at the oysters.

”Trying to make a comeback?“

”No,“ I said, ”planning ahead.“

We ate our seafood.

”What makes you say you’re in over your head?“ Susan asked.

”I don’t feel easy. It’s an element I’m not comfortable in. I’m good with my hands, and I’m persevering, but… Pam Shepard asked me if I had children and I said no. And she said I probably couldn’t understand, and she asked if I were married and I said no and she said then for sure I couldn’t understand.“ I shrugged.

”I’ve never had children either,“ Susan said. ”And marriage wasn’t the best thing that ever happened to me. Nor the most permanent. I don’t know. There’s all the cliches about you don’t have to be able to cook a souffle to know when one’s bad. But… at school, I know, parents come in sometimes for counseling with the kids and they say, but you don’t know. You don’t have children… there’s probably something to it. Say there is. So what? You’ve been involved in a lot of things that you haven’t experienced firsthand, as I recall. Why is this one different?“

”I don’t know that it is,“ I said.

”I think it is. I’ve never heard you talk about things like this before. On a scale of ten you normally test out about fifteen in confidence.“

”Yeah, I think it is too.“

”Of course, as you explain it, the case is no longer your business because the case no longer exists.“

”There’s that,“ I said.

”Then why worry about it. If it’s not your element, anyway, why not settle for that. We’ll eat and swim and walk on the beach for a few days and go home.“

The waitress came with steak for each of us, and salad, and rolls and another beer for me. We ate in silence for maybe two minutes.

”I can’t think of anything else to do,“ I said.

”Try to control your enthusiasm,“ Susan said.

”I’m sorry,“ I said. ”I didn’t mean it that way. It’s just bothering me. I’ve been with two people whose lives are screwed up to hell and I can’t seem to get them out of it at all.“

”Of course you can’t,“ she said. ”You also can’t do a great deal about famine, war, pestilence and death.“

”A great backfield,“ I said.

”You also can’t be everyone’s father. It is paternalistic of you to assume that Pam Shepard with the support of several other women cannot work out her own future without you. She may in fact do very well. I have.“

”Me paternalistic? Don’t be absurd. Eat your steak and shut up or I’ll spank you.“