School Days

Chapter 37

RITA FIORE came into my office at lunchtime, carrying a bag of sandwiches and two cups of coffee.

"Where's your dog," she said.

"Susan has a dog walker. Pearl's with her this morning."

Rita nodded.

"I got tuna salad," she said, "on whole wheat, ham and cheese on whole wheat, egg salad on white, and pastrami on light rye."

"Excellent," I said. "Are you having anything?"

"We're sharing," she said.

"Oh."

"I want the egg salad," she said.

"I'll make do," I said.

She set everything down on my desk, took the lids off both coffees, sat down in my client chair, and unwrapped her egg salad sandwich. I took the tuna.

"So whaddya want?" I said.

She grinned at me and crossed her legs. She was wearing a pale green linen suit with a long jacket and a short skirt.

"Same old thing," she said. "Susan's away, and I thought I might fill in."

"Would that include, say, bopping me on the couch?"

"It would," Rita said.

"You need to work on your inhibitions," I said.

"Controlling them?" Rita said.

"No," I said. "Acquiring some."

She laughed. I took a bite of my tuna sandwich.

"I take it that's another rejection?" she said.

"Sadly, yes," I said. "Where were you when I was single?"

"Prosecuting felons in Norfolk County," she said, "and keeping an eye out for Mr. Right."

"I'm not sure the Norfolk County jail was the best place to look. No wonder you never found him," I said.

She drank some coffee and patted her lips carefully with a paper napkin.

"Actually, I've found him half a dozen times, but he never ripens well."

"'Songs unheard are sweeter far,"' I said.

"Thank you," she said. "How you doing out in Dowling."

"I am finding out more and more about less and less," I said. "I will eventually know everything about nothing."

"Like law school," she said.

"But with a better class of people," I said.

We each chewed our sandwiches and drank some coffee and used our napkins.

"I keep you talking, you may change your mind about the couch," Rita said. "Tell me what you know so far."

By the time I finished, the sandwiches were gone and the coffee was low in our cups.

"Major Johnson," she said. "Wow, that was a long time ago. How old would he be now?"

"I figure around thirty."

"And still gangbanging."

"Older gang," I said.

"Why would he help you out like that?"

"Couple of reasons. One, I'm a friend of Hawk's, and he always wanted to be like Hawk. Two, because he felt like it."

"Just because he felt like it?"

"Yes. He could, and he felt like showing that he could. Being the man is important to Major."

"So he helped you to prove he da man?" Rita said.

"Be my guess," I said.

"Is he proving it to you?"

"To me," I said. "Through me to Hawk, to Yang, to the rest of his crew, to himself. You don't know people will do what you tell them to do, unless you tell them and they do it."

"God, what a way to live," Rita said.

"It's the way he's got," I said.

"You saying he had no choice?"

I smiled and shook my head.

"I'm not navigating the nature/nurture shoals with you again," I said. "I got no idea."

"You know as well as I do," Rita said, "that whatever the psychological reality might be, civilizations have to act as if the individual is responsible for what the individual does."

"I'd settle for knowing who was responsible for shooting up the Dowling School," I said.

Rita nodded. She finished her coffee and put the empty cup on the edge of my desk. She uncrossed her legs and recrossed them the other way.

"Perfect moment for a smoke," she said. "If we smoked. Which we don't. You could take two cigarettes from a Chinese lacquered box on your desk, and light both of them and hand one to me."

"And look you up and down insolently," I said, "through the blue smoke."

"Aladdin's lamp is mine," Rita said. "You know what strikes me about Dowling?"

"What?"

"You know they did it, but you keep right on pushing."

"I want to know why," I said.

"I would, too," Rita said. "Everything you've told me says they did it, and it was premeditated. But nothing tells me why."

"It's telling me the same thing," I said.

"There's a reason," Rita said. "I've been in the criminal law business a long time for someone as young and seductive as I am, and there's got to be a reason. Doesn't have to be a good reason. But there's got to be something."

"Uh-huh."

"And you're going to find it out."

"I am."

"You could tell the grandmother the kid did it, take your fee, and go home," Rita said. "But, of course, you won't."

"No," I said.

"Because?"

"Because I won't."

"So what's your plan?" Rita said.

"Keep pushing at it," I said.

Rita shook her head.

"You are not a quitter," she said.

"No," I said.

Rita grinned and looked at the couch.

"Me either," she said.