Robert B. Parker’s The Devil Wins

26

Healy and Jesse circled around to the other side of the bluff and climbed the switchback stone steps up to the top. Healy was pretty winded when he finally made it, a full thirty seconds after Jesse. But both of their lungs burned as they sucked in gulps of frozen air. When Healy caught his breath, he turned to face the ocean.

“Helluva a view from up here with the sun low in the sky,” Healy said. “The ocean, Stiles Island, the harbor, and the town. You can understand why all the rich families built their places on the Bluffs. Probably seemed like heaven.”

“Just another name for Paradise. Come on.”

They walked around to the spot on the bluff above where Maxie Connolly’s body had landed. They were careful as they approached, checking the ground for footprints, drag marks, signs of a struggle, but there wasn’t much to see except for some snapped branches on the winter-bare hedge that outlined the ledge of the bluff. This spot, the highest point of the Bluffs, had become a popular spot for visitors, as it offered the best view of Paradise and the rest of the area. On a very clear day, you could look south and see all the way to Boston. The town fathers hadn’t seen fit to put up a protective fence or guardrail, but had gotten a local nursery to plant some waist-high hedges along the perimeter of the bluff.

“Looks like that spot there’s where she went over,” Healy said, pointing at the snapped branches. “No handbag or anything left behind.”

Jesse nodded. “None by the body, either. Can we get a forensics team up here? Peter did the basics by the body, but I want a more thorough job done where she went over.”

“They’re already on the way.”

“That’s why they pay you the big money,” Jesse said.

“Looking more and more like a suicide.”

“Maybe.”

“I know, Jesse. You don’t like it.”

“I don’t, but I have to admit that it looks like suicide.”

“Let’s see what the ME has to say.”

Jesse shook his head. “I already spoke to her. She doesn’t think she’s going to find anything definitive to say it’s not suicide. A suicide note would be nice. Would make our jobs a lot easier.”

“Got a pen and a piece of paper?” Healy asked.

“Why, you thinking of jumping, too?”

Healy just laughed.

They moved about twenty yards to the right of where they assumed Maxie Connolly had gone over and stepped close to the edge of the adjoining bluff. When they looked down they could see the activity below. Maxie’s body was being bagged and the ME’s wagon had arrived to take her back to the morgue.

“Mother and child reunion,” Healy said to himself.

“What?” Jesse asked.

“Nothing. It’s just that Maxie and her daughter will be in the same place together after all these years.”

Jesse turned to look at his friend.

“You feeling okay, Healy?”

“Why?”

“You’re being pretty philosophical this morning.”

Healy grunted, then changed the subject.

“I don’t think I could do it this way. You know, jump,” he said.

“Uh-huh.”

“You eat your gun, it’s over. There’s no time to want to take it back. Regret isn’t an option. You jump and there’s that fear and panic, even if it doesn’t last long. I wouldn’t want to die like that.”

Jesse kept silent. After he’d discovered Jenn cheating on him and his drinking had gotten out of control, he’d had a few bad moments, moments when he’d considered eating his gun. But that was a long time ago and he had no time for bad memories at the moment. He had four bodies on his hands, three separate cases, and almost nothing to go on.

“I’m heading back to Paradise,” Jesse said. “I’ve got to tell the husband. Call me if you find anything.”

Healy gave Jesse a careless salute. “Aye, aye.”

Now nearly back on the beach, Jesse looked behind him at the zigzagging stone steps he’d just come down. Maxie’s trip down had taken much less time.