Robert B. Parker’s Damned If You Do

15

Reilly’s Fish and Chips in Marblehead was the destination for anyone who had a hankering for some of the best seafood in Massachusetts. Jesse parked his cruiser and went inside.

At two o’clock, the lunch crowd was quickly thinning and a number of the usually crowded tables had become available.

Sitting in a corner, his back to the wall, was Thomas Walker, wearing a gray Hugo Boss suit, a white shirt, and a patterned yellow tie.

Among the crowd, Jesse noticed several young men of color who might otherwise have seemed out of place, were their attentions not so specifically focused on Thomas Walker and his well-being.

Walker stood as Jesse approached the table.

“Nice duds,” Jesse said. “I guess you’re not worried about dribbling.”

“I’m too fine to be concerning myself with dribbling,” Walker said. “Besides, they provide bibs.”

The two men sat.

“Lunch is on me,” Walker said.

“I’m touched,” Jesse said.

Walker looked at him. A waitress came by and took their orders. Fried oysters, crabs, and shrimp for Walker. Lobster roll for Jesse. Miller Genuine Draft for them both.

“Your reputation precedes you,” Jesse said.

“Don’t you believe a word of it,” Walker said. “I’m just a simple man trying to scratch out a meager living.”

“Yeah. I can see that,” Jesse said. “I suppose I should be impressed that you asked me to lunch. I gather that public sightings of Thomas Walker are as rare as yeti spottings.”

Walker showed Jesse a crooked, toothy grin.

“I wouldn’t know anything about that,” he said.

“I suspected you wouldn’t.”

“Your reputation precedes you,” Walker said.

Jesse didn’t say anything.

“Your relationship with Gino Fish hasn’t gone unnoticed.”

“You must have me confused with someone else,” Jesse said.

The food arrived, along with the promised bib for Walker.

“See,” he said, tying the bib around his neck. “Dribble protection.”

Jesse smiled.

“I guess you know where Clarice and I stand regarding your issue,” Walker said.

“You made it quite clear.”

“Just so’s you know.”

“You can’t be footing this lunch bill just to confirm some old news. What’s on your mind, Thomas?”

Walker dipped a pair of shrimp into a bowl of Reilly’s special red sauce and shoveled them into his mouth.

“I’m getting around to it,” he said, wiping the excess sauce from his lips. “Don’t you have any patience?”

“Not much. What is it you want?”

“I’ve gleaned a bit of information that should be to your liking,” Walker said. “The name of someone who might be helpful to you.”

“What name?”

“You want to know the conditions first?”

“I won’t accept any conditions,” Jesse said.

Walker looked at him.

“Then you might not find out what it is you’re seeking,” he said.

“Listen to me, Thomas. I don’t want you to think that I don’t appreciate your invitation to lunch. You carry a big mojo, and I don’t take your gesture toward me lightly. That having been said, however, if your information comes with any kind of strings attached, any sort of due bill, so to speak, then keep it to yourself. This is about the brutal murder of a young woman. It’s not about laying pipe.”

Walker didn’t say anything.

Jesse finished his lobster roll. He took a few sips of beer.

After a while, Walker said, “Not a lot of guys could get away with fronting me like that.”

Jesse nodded.

“All I’d have to do is look sideways,” Walker said with a glance at one of the young men at the next table.

“Consider me suitably fearful,” Jesse said.

“I’ve come up with a name,” Walker said.

“So you said.”

“Brother’s a dangerous person. He’s also a competitor.”

Jesse didn’t say anything.

“Someone I don’t much care for.”

“Are you planning to carry on with all this boogie boogie, or are you actually going to tell me.”

“You ever hear the name Fat Boy Nelly?”

“Can’t say that I have.”

“Lately he’s been running a string of ladies in the coastal corridor.”

Jesse didn’t say anything.

“He may have some connection to the dead girl.”

“Okay. How do I find him?”

Walker didn’t say anything.

“Look, Thomas. I have no desire to get involved in the politics between you and this Fat Boy person. If he can provide me with the girl’s name, I’ll be grateful.”

Walker dipped his hands into the finger bowl that the waitress had placed on the table, then dried them on a paper towel. He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a piece of paper, placing it on the table in front of Jesse.

“No conditions,” Jesse said.

“None,” Walker said.

Jesse picked up the piece of paper.

“I gather it wouldn’t be good business for me to mention that it was you who gave me his number.”

“On the contrary. It’s only by you mentioning me that he’ll agree to talk to you. His sightings are even rarer than mine.”

Jesse didn’t say anything. He took a final sip of beer.

“Why,” he said.

“Why what?”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Clarice and I want to do our part. We feel it’s our duty.”

“Influenced by Mr. Fish, no doubt.”

“You’re a pretty cynical person, aren’t you, Mr. Stone?”

“Comes with the territory.”

“Clarice and I, we just want to help you bring about some justice.”

“I’m sure you do,” Jesse said as he stood. “I’m very much obliged.”

He offered his hand, and Walker took it.

“Thanks for the lunch,” Jesse said. “It was very tasty.”

Walker nodded.

Jesse looked at each of the men whose job it was to keep watch over Mr. Walker. Then he left the restaurant.