Robert B. Parker’s Someone to Watch Over Me

15

Two days later, Boston Police Homicide Captain Lorraine Glass walked into my office and stood in front of my desk with a decidedly unpleasant expression.

“Quirk says you have some questions for me,” she said.

“Yes,” I said. “Why has it taken you so long to be won over by my obvious charm and winning personality?”

“About Peter Steiner.”

“Oh,” I said. “Him.”

“Please skip the regular bullshit,” she said. “Quirk said to talk to you. And I said I’d stop by. So here I am.”

Glass stood over me, dressed in a black pant suit with a cream top under the jacket. I knew she had a gun, but the jacket covered it nicely. She was average height and trim, with short brown hair and angular features. She didn’t wear any makeup or jewelry besides a digital sport watch on her wrist.

“May I offer you a coffee or a bottle of water?”

“Nope.”

“Hot towel,” I said. “Wine spritzer?”

“Like I said,” Glass said. “Skip the bullshit. I don’t like you, Spenser. I’ve never liked you. I know you’re big pals with Belson and Quirk. However the hell that happened was way before my time. I’ve worked very hard to get to where I am. I am not, nor will I ever be, part of the boys’ club. And if I find out you’re working for some scumbag attorney who works for Steiner, I promise you I’ll come back here and kick your balls from here to Haverhill.”

“Haverhill is quite a long ways from the Back Bay.”

“And I got a leg to do it.”

I waved a hand in front of my client’s chairs. She took a seat, and I closed my laptop and leaned forward onto my desk. “My balls are safe,” I said. “I don’t work for Steiner.”

“Who do you work for?”

“I don’t need to tell you,” I said. “But in the spirit of cooperation and our blossoming friendship, I’ll tell you I’m working with another victim.”

“So you know about the others?”

“I know two. I also know there are others.”

Glass shook her head and leveled her eyes at me. She ran a hand over her face and took a long breath. “Not including those first charges?”

“I found no charges against Peter Steiner or his significant other, Poppy Palmer.”

“That’s because the charge was expunged,” she said. “You know how that works, don’t you?”

“Money.”

“Money,” she said. “And a good attorney. And having an entire rock-solid case deep-sixed by the goddamn DA’s office.”

“Who was the victim?”

Glass shook her head, offering the thinnest of smiles. “You know better than that,” she said. “Victims of sexual battery are confidential.”

“So Steiner raped someone?”

“Yep.”

“And this was your case when you were on sex crimes?”

She nodded. “I hadn’t been a detective long,” Glass said. “If I had the same case now, I could’ve done more with it. But even then, as green as I was as an investigator, I still did good. The case was good. It was more than enough to prosecute.”

I stood up and stretched, walked to the wall, and straightened one of my two Vermeer prints. It was of a young woman seated at a piano, a much older man standing beside her. I believed the man was her instructor, his mouth hanging open in song.

“One of the vics worked for Steiner,” she said.

“One?”

“There were two.”

“One was his personal assistant.”

“That’s right,” Glass said. “What else do you know?”

“I know she was an artist,” I said. “And that Steiner had promised to be her patron.”

“Yeah,” she said. “He’s a real philanthropist. He’s known to pull out his johnson faster than Quick Draw McGraw.”

“Please don’t ruin Quick Draw for me.”

“Too late,” Glass said, smiling. “Already have. This thing that happened—”

“Allegedly?”

“Not even close,” she said. “This thing that happened wasn’t just Steiner. It was Poppy Palmer, too. They’d offered the victim a place to live and work close to Steiner’s home. Some kind of fake residency. Even had an official name for it. One night, Steiner and Palmer come over and either get her drunk or drug her. We’re not sure. But the things the victim recalls about that night are so sick and twisted, I wouldn’t even wish them on you.”

“Steiner and Palmer,” I said.

“She’s the recruiter.”

“She’s procured other young women for him.”

“Do your clients want to make a case?” Glass said. “I would be thrilled to put them in touch with detectives at Sex Crimes. That idiot DA is long gone now. He was a drunk and a gambling addict and left the office in shame.”

“I remember,” I said.

“Steiner’s people got to him easy,” Glass said. “Makes me want to puke. But I sure found out fast how this goddamn town worked. I’d like to have a second shot at this guy.”

I nodded. Glass shuffled in her seat. Her black suit jacket was slightly open, and I could see the butt of a very large revolver. She noticed me noticing and grinned.

“Don’t fuck with me, Spenser,” she said. “This thing with Steiner is important. I’ve never forgotten what he did.”

“We’re on to something.”

Glass stood and smoothed down her jacket over the gun. She was a good head shorter than me and had to look up when I stood, too. But something about her made her feel substantial in the room. Her feet shoulder-width apart and hands on her hips. “You better be.”

“You mentioned a second victim?” I said.

“Second vic was the woman’s younger sister,” she said. “Girl was fifteen. Son of a bitch used the older girl to rope in the younger one. The kid sister thought she could trust Steiner because her sister worked for him. Neither one of them knew what the hell was going on. Steiner and Palmer working them at the same time. I wish I could tell you more, but that’d give you too much.”

“You want me to work for it.”

“Work for it a little more,” she said. “Find some more people to talk. And then I can maybe reach out to the sisters and see if they want to join up.”

“I’d like that.”

“I’m sure they would, too.”

I offered my hand. Glass looked down at it and then back at me. Her hands remained on her hips. “Frank Belson swears you’re okay.”

“Frank is a very smart man.”

“Says you helped find Lisa when she went missing a while back.”

“True.”

“Well,” she said. “You haven’t done shit for me. I figure it’s about time you start.”