Robert B. Parker’s Someone to Watch Over Me

41

The next morning, Hawk and I were parked along Commonwealth Ave drinking coffee and eating corn muffins from Dunkin’. Dunkie’s to the locals.

“Why muffins over donuts today?” Hawk said.

“I usually call an audible once I get to the counter.”

“Good call,” Hawk said.

I nodded. I drank some coffee. Hawk was behind the wheel of his Jag since Steiner’s people were already well aware of my preference for vintage SUVs.

“Mattie won’t be pleased I chose you over her for the job.”

“This ain’t her thing, man.”

“Eating corn muffins and drinking coffee?”

“Squeezing Petey the Perv.”

“Ah.”

“You sure he’s back in town?”

I cut my eyes over at him and finished my corn muffin. I was holding at two, but I’d bought a half-dozen. That meant, in fairness, I had the option of taking another. But if I had another, it might negate the last hour at the Harbor Health Club.

“Does he travel with people?”

“He has a driver,” I said. “Sizable guy.”

“How sizable?”

“Remember Refrigerator Perry?”

“Sure.”

“This guy looks like the walk-in version.”

“Fat ain’t muscle.”

I nodded, sipping more coffee. A cool morning breeze blowing through the open windows. “Guess we’ll find out.”

We had parked on the street a block from Steiner’s place, having a view of his front entrance and the service alley. Hawk and I waited a short twenty minutes before we saw Steiner’s light blue Rolls-Royce Phantom wheel out from the alley and approach Comm Ave.

“That him?” Hawk said.

“That’s him,” I said. “Unless there are two light blue Rolls-Royce Phantoms parked in that alley.”

“I pull alongside him,” Hawk said. “And you roll down the window. Ask that motherfucker if he got any Grey Poupon.”

“I was thinking the exact same thing,” I said. “Or perhaps we discreetly tail him hither and yon to find a good place for a proper introduction.”

“Hither and yon.”

Hawk started the Jag, the motor purring, and waited a beat before following the Rolls across the Commonwealth Mall and heading back toward downtown. He slowed as we got close to the Public Garden, waiting for the Rolls to turn and then shoot up Boylston by the Four Seasons. Traffic had grown tight, and we almost got stuck at a light.

“I think I know where he’s going,” I said.

“Do tell.”

“Ever been to the Blackstone Club?”

“Black-stone?”

“Yeah,” I said. “I’m sure you’ll fit right in,” I said. “It’s just the kind of place that celebrates its diversity.”

As we edged the Common, Hawk slowed down, the cab of the Rolls a shiny beacon in the sunlight. We caught up with the car as it headed toward Chinatown and turned onto Washington. Soon the Rolls slowed to the curb and an XXL chauffeur climbed out to get Steiner’s door.

“Goddamn,” Hawk said. “What they feed him?”

“Anyone who annoys his boss.”

The bald guy who’d followed Mattie through the Common appeared outside the nondescript entrance for the club. He exchanged some kind of pleasantries with Steiner, and Steiner palmed him a tip.

Steiner was dressed in a pinkish seersucker suit with white buckskin shoes. He’d gotten even more tan from his recent visit to Florida, and his silver hair was combed straight back from his broad face.

“Never cared for seersucker,” Hawk said.

“White people love it.”

“Never seen you in it.”

“On me, it would look like I was wearing a circus tent.”

Hawk switched off the ignition. The inside of the Jag grew silent and still. I could hear the creaking of the leather as I shifted in the passenger seat. The city bustled about us. People hustling up and down the street, traffic backed up into the Financial District. A few horns honked in frustration.

“Shall we?” Hawk said.

“Will you get the door, Rochester?”

“Never have,” Hawk said. “Never will.”

“Will you still ask Steiner about that Grey Poupon?”

“Sure,” Hawk said. “While you play patty-cake with André the Giant.”

I smiled and reached for the door. “Don’t embarrass me,” I said. “I have standards among the Brahmin.”

“Me, too,” Hawk said. “Better wipe those muffin crumbs off your T-shirt.”

I got out and brushed them away before Hawk and I crossed the street to the Blackstone Club.