Robert B. Parker’s Buried Secrets

Thirty-One

Peter Perkins waited outside Jesse’s door. “Got a minute?” he asked.

“Of course,” Jesse said, and they went into his office.

Peter was out of uniform, but he was part-time at best these days. He’d been trying to retire, but the hiring crunch had forced Jesse to keep him on. The department badly needed someone else to do the training as a crime scene officer, but Jesse couldn’t spare Molly or Suit or Gabe for the time it would take for the course.

In the meantime, they had Peter. And Jesse was grateful. So he tried to give Peter every courtesy.

Peter sat down and looked at his hands and the floor before speaking. He was never a very forceful guy. Jesse thought he liked doing the forensics work because it took place after everyone else had left and the scene was quiet.

But he was still a decent cop. Peter had been a part of the Paradise department longer than Jesse had; he’d been there when Jesse showed up, and he’d stood by Jesse when the previous members of the town selectmen had tried to overthrow the Paradise PD by force. That wasn’t easy, and Jesse would not forget it.

“I think you might be a little hard on the new kid,” Peter said.

“How do you mean?”

“Look, he’s young, he’s not used to how we do things in a smaller town like Paradise,” Peter said. “I know Daisy is a friend of yours, but I think the kid just got overexcited. He was trained in a big city. He looks at everyone as a potential threat.”

“That’s not how we do things here,” Jesse said.

“That’s it,” Peter said. “That’s my point. His reflexes are wrong. But he needs a chance to learn how to do it another way. He’s got to learn.”

“You keep talking about him as if he’s a fourth-grader. He’s a grown man, Peter.”

Peter ducked his head. “No argument from me. But he listened when I talked to him. I think he can do better.”

Jesse thought about that. “What do you suggest?”

“Show him the ropes. Give him a little time. Let him figure out what it’s like here. You know, the way you did.”

“I’m not sure I’m the best role model for him in this case,” Jesse said. “What about you?”

“What about me?”

“Would you partner up with him?”

Peter’s eyebrows went up. “You think I could do that?”

“Like you said, he listened to you.”

“Yeah, but... you think I’m the guy for the job?”

“Peter,” Jesse said, “I’d be happy if Tate were half the cop you’ve been in my time here.”

Peter looked down, but Jesse saw the smile before he stifled it. “Well, yeah, sure. If you want. I’d be glad to take him around a bit.”

“Okay,” Jesse said. “Next time he’s on shift, I’ll have you ride with him. Thanks, Peter.”

Jesse stood up. Peter did the same. He put out his hand. It felt strangely formal to Jesse, but he shook it.

“I won’t let you down,” Peter said.

“You never have.”

Jesse went into the cells to check on Peebles. He had about forty-eight hours left before a judge would find that Jesse was violating Peebles’s rights. Give or take, anyway. Then it was either charge him or release him.

If he had Ellis Munroe charge Peebles, he’d go into the county holding facility. If he let him go, Mulvaney would find him. Either way, shortly after that, Peebles would be dead. There was no question in Jesse’s mind.

Not that Peebles had demanded a lawyer. He hadn’t done much of anything, in fact, except sit and look at the walls.

Jesse wanted to take one more shot at trying to get him to talk.

He stood in front of the cell. Peebles blinked at him like a lizard, then looked away. Peebles acted like he was already dead. It would be hard to save his life with that attitude.

“I’m running out of time, Matthew. So I’m going to be blunt. Why are you protecting a guy who wants you dead?”

“You think I’m protecting him?” Peebles laughed. “You’re kidding, right? I’m doing everything I can to protect myself.”

“I know you don’t want to believe me, but I’m keeping you here for the same reason. I am determined to keep you safe, Matthew.”

“You can’t. Nobody can.”

“Look, I’ve met your uncle.”

“Great-uncle, actually.”

“Right. What makes him so much scarier than every other aging mobster out there?”

Peebles finally seemed to see Jesse, actually focus his eyes on him as a real person.

“I’m not telling you anything that you can use in court,” he said. “I mean, let’s just say I’m speaking hypothetically here.”

“Okay. Hypothetically,” Jesse said.

“Let’s say there’s this kid. He’s been raised by a single mom. His dad left a long time ago, and he’s only had a series of her increasingly disappointing boyfriends and one-night stands to serve as his piss-poor examples of manhood.”

“Sounds familiar.”

“Yeah. Lot of that going around, I know. But let’s also say this hypothetical kid’s mom has a mother who comes around, too. And she’s old-school Irish. I mean, tough. Hard as nails. But this kid, she thinks he’s special. Thinks he has potential, even though she’s the only one. For good reason, I mean. The kid is a complete waste of space, but he doesn’t see it yet. He thinks the sun shines out his own ass.”

“Maybe the kid just needs someone to look after him.”

“Yeah, you’d think so. But you’d be wrong. Because, see, eventually, the grandma takes the kid to meet her brother. His great-uncle. And as tough as she is, he’s a goddamn battleship. He’s made of plate steel and pure hatred. The kid is terrified of him, and at the same time, he thinks the guy is the greatest man to walk the earth. Eventually, with his grandmother’s help, he convinces the guy to let him do some jobs. Run errands. Hang around. That sort of stuff.”

“Okay,” Jesse said. He noticed Peebles was sweating now, staring into space, like he was someplace else entirely.

“The kid thinks he’s a real gangster now. He doesn’t see how everything is falling apart, how everyone is paranoid as hell, and how there are guys killing each other right and left for whatever they can grab. He’s too young, too stupid. He just knows he’s got money for the first time in his life, he’s got cool shoes and weed and the kids at school are scared of him and he’s even got girlfriends.”

“Sounds like he’s got it all.”

“Yeah, but he’s an idiot, remember. Because he doesn’t know where it comes from. Not really. But one day he’s at his great-uncle’s place. He was supposed to deliver some papers from a lawyer, and he forgot — actually, no, he was getting a hand job from an older girl in the back seat of a car. He thought he was a king. Not even old enough to drive yet. She had to drop him off at his uncle’s. Because he was late. And because he was late, his uncle was conducting some other business. The kid went to find him in the garage, around the back. His uncle had a big place back then. Lots of room. Thick walls. Cinder-block. Soundproofed.”

Peebles gulped some air. Then he went on.

“So this hypothetical kid, he didn’t even hear anything until he opened the door to the garage. And that’s when he saw the guy hanging from the ceiling on a hook. While his uncle watched these other guys beat him to death. The kid didn’t understand what he was seeing. Not at first. But once he figured it out, he knew he’d never be able to unsee it again. He pissed himself. And he ran away as fast as he could.”

Jesse sat quietly. He didn’t think anything he had to say would help.

Peebles seemed to snap out of his memories. “So. That kid was never asked by his uncle to come around anymore. He stopped getting money, stopped getting jobs. Because he was weak. See, the uncle had seen the kid, just before he ran away. And that was the thing: The kid didn’t run or piss himself because of the guy being murdered. He ran because his uncle looked him in the eye. And the kid was terrified of what he saw there.”

“So why does this kid still hang out with this uncle now?”

“Hypothetically speaking?” Peebles said, a weak smile on his face. “He tries not to. He took some money to invest in a club a few years ago, so he could be cool again. But there were odd jobs attached.”

“And Burton was one of them.”

Peebles shook his head, as if he’d realized how much had spilled from his lips. “Don’t know what you mean, Officer. I was talking about someone else. Just telling you a story.”

Jesse sat for a moment. Peebles wouldn’t look at him.

“He’s not the devil, Matthew. He’s just an old man.”

Peebles laughed softly. “You sure about that?”