Robert B. Parker’s Damned If You Do

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Jesse arrived late for his meeting with the selectmen at Town Hall. He excused himself and made mention of his having been detained, although by what he never divulged.

He took a seat beside Marty Reagan. The board of selectmen were all on hand. The five of them were sitting at a table, on a riser, at the front of the room. Carter Hansen sat smugly in the center.

Fire Captain Mickey Kurtz, Buildings Supervisor Alan Hollett, and Chief Health Inspector Harold Brown sat in the front row. District Attorney Aaron Silver stood behind a lectern, facing them.

“Have the reinspections taken place,” Silver said.

“Yes,” each of the three men said in turn.

“And the findings?”

Alan Hollett spoke first. He was a no-nonsense, sour-faced man, close to retirement age, overweight, arthritic, and hard of hearing.

“Nothing of consequence has been done to correct the structural deficiencies of the buildings,” he said.

“Captain Kurtz?”

“Does the term ‘firetrap’ mean anything to you?”

Silver looked at the health inspector.

“Harold,” he said.

“It’s a vermin-infested pigsty,” Brown said.

“So it’s safe to say that nothing much was done by way of correcting the violations?”

“What,” Hollett said.

“The violations haven’t been rectified,” Silver said louder.

“You’re damned right they haven’t been rectified,” Hollett said.

“So what do we do now,” Hansen said.

The district attorney had taken note of Jesse’s arrival.

“Chief Stone,” he said.

“I’m guessing that everyone here knows that I was offered a significant amount of money in an effort to convince me to have the inspection rulings overturned.”

“Everyone knows,” Silver said.

“Well, in that case,” Jesse said, “I propose that we all agree to look the other way. I’d very much like to see those three hundred large singing and dancing in my checking account.”

Several of the attendees laughed.

“Can we stick to the matter at hand, Chief Stone,” Hansen said. “Without the funny business.”

Jesse shrugged.

“What do we do,” Hansen said.

“We shut the bastards down,” Hollett said.

“Can we do that,” Hansen said to Aaron Silver.

“The owners failed to maintain their buildings according to code requirements,” Silver said. “They were informed of this fact and given a specified period of time in which to rectify the situation. They didn’t. We have every right to shut them down until such time as they address the problems and correct them.”

Marty Reagan stood.

“Can I ask a stupid question,” he said.

Carter stared at him and nodded.

“Why didn’t they rectify the violations? Or at least show good faith that they were prepared to do so?”

“Excuse me,” Hansen said.

“Why didn’t they do anything? Seems like all they did was try to bribe Jesse.”

Alan Hollett raised his hand.

“Be damned expensive to correct those violations,” he said.

“How expensive,” Reagan said.

“I really don’t know,” Hollett said. “Mick, what do you think?”

“A lot of work needs to be done to the bones of the place,” Kurtz said. “A good deal of the infrastructure needs to be either repaired or, better still, replaced. The buildings were poorly constructed in the first place. Over time, the cheap materials that were used have deteriorated. The wiring has gone to shit, and the plumbing is even worse.”

“And that’s just for starters,” Hollett said. “When those buildings were put up, corners were cut wherever possible. Those in charge purposely cheaped out so that they could enrich themselves. And although they weren’t originally involved, your friends at Amherst are now paying the price.”

“How much,” Reagan asked.

“Say what,” Hollett said.

“How much?”

“I’m not a contractor,” Hollett said. “But I’d guess at least a million.”

“That’s probably in the right ballpark,” Kurtz said. “Maybe a bit low.”

“You think Amherst Properties didn’t know how bad things were when they bought the place,” Silver said.

“That’s anyone’s guess,” Hollett said. “The place has changed hands a number of times. They might have known and hoped they could get by with the status quo. Or they might not have known, in which case they were screwed.”

“Just like their residents,” Jesse said.

“So buying Jesse off, so to speak, was their cheapest option,” Silver said.

“I’d say so,” Hollett said. “If they’d succeeded with Jesse, and the inspection violations were reversed, they would have won big-time.”

“And now,” Silver said.

“Now they’re fucked,” Hollett said. “That is, if they want to remain in business here in Paradise. If they do, they’re going to have to cough up some considerable dough. And they’ll still have to shut the place down while they make the repairs. A shutdown means they lose their resident clientele. All of their rental agreements would be canceled. Their income would vanish. And with no assurance that any of those residents would return, should Golden Horizons ever reopen.”

“Why wouldn’t they just take the gamble,” Kurtz said. “It’s not like they can’t afford the money.”

“We don’t know that,” Jesse said. “With all the negative press they received at the Marlborough facility, maybe their resources took a hit. The media turned that case into a national circus. It’s possible that people regarded it as a sign that the whole enterprise was stinko.”

“Whatever the reason,” Silver said, “they appear to be poised to let Paradise go dark.”

“So who does the dirty work,” Reagan said.

“You mean who enforces the closure,” Hansen said.

“Yes,” Reagan said.

“The police department,” Hansen said.

They all looked at Jesse.

“Chief Stone,” Hansen said.

“You talkin’ to me,” Jesse said.