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8

IT WAS SEVEN O'CLOCK in the evening when Healy came into Jesse's office.

"You ever go home," Healy said.

"Sometimes," Jesse said. "To sleep. How 'bout you?"

"On my way," Healy said.

He sat down and put his briefcase on the floor beside him.

"You wanted to know about the late Petrov Ognowski and his employer?" Healy said.

"Reggie Galen," Jesse said.

"Course you know Reggie lives here," Healy said.

"Right next door to Knocko Moynihan," Jesse said.

Healy nodded.

"How weird is that," he said.

"They do any business together?"

"None that I know of, now," Healy said. "I talked with some guys in our OC unit. None that they know of."

"But they're not enemies," Jesse said.

"Not that I know of," Healy said. "Or OC knows."

"And you'd know," Jesse said.

"I am a captain in the Massachusetts State Police," Healy said.

"So there's nothing you wouldn't know," Jesse said.

"This is correct."

"Could you focus this vast knowledge in," Jesse said.

"Ognowski, say, and his boss?"

"Ognowski's a thumper, or he was," Healy said.

He bent over, opened his briefcase, took out an eight-by-ten photograph, and put it on Jesse's desk.

"You want somebody killed, or maimed, or scared, whatever," Healy said, "Petrov is your guy. He was working for Reggie Galen before his tragic demise."

Jesse looked at the picture.

"Good-looking guy," Jesse said. "Face doesn't look like he lost many fights."

"Petrov could always find employment," Healy said.

"Was he with Reggie for long?"

"You know how it goes with these guys," Healy said. "They work for a while, they go away. They come back. We don't have the resources to keep track of everybody, and low-life boppers don't get all that much of our time. Best I can tell you, he's been with Reggie the last several years."

"He ever work for Knocko?"

"Don't know," Healy said. "You don't like them being neighbors, do you?"

"Coincidences don't work for me," Jesse said.

"Me, either."

"But you got no explanation," Jesse said.

"No."

"And you a captain," Jesse said. "What about Reggie?"

"Reggie had a good piece of the action in the North End and Charlestown, Everett, Revere, Malden. We tag-teamed him with the Feds, turned some witnesses, and sent him away for five."

"You like working with the Feds?" Jesse said.

Healy shrugged.

"Lot of 'em ain't really street cops," Healy said. "But they got great information."

"They got the money to pay for it," Jesse said.

"And they do," Healy said.

He took a manila envelope out of his briefcase and put it next to Ognowski's picture on Jesse's desk.

"Names and numbers are in there," Healy said. "Read 'em at your leisure."

Jesse nodded.

"When did he get out of jail?"

"Twelve years ago," Healy said.

"Back in business?" Jesse said.

"Sort of," Healy said. "We can't prove it yet. But as far as we can tell, he's like some sort of warlord, you know. He gets a skim off every bet made, every whore bought, every joint smoked, every number purchased, every loan sharked. He gets this everywhere he used to run things. So he doesn't have to do much, just be Reggie Galen, and the cash just keeps on coming."

"And if it doesn't?"

"He has members of his staff," Healy said, "go and collect it."

"Which was where Ognowski comes in."

"Yep. Got a bunch of Ognowskis," Healy said. "They protect and collect, you might say."

"And Knocko's got no part of it?"

"Don't know," Healy said. "When you called you didn't ask me about Knocko. He hasn't shown up in the morning report anytime recent."

"Well, maybe I'll find out something," Jesse said.

"You gonna talk to them?"

"I'll go visit Reggie, see what develops."

"Something you need to keep in mind," Healy said. "I know it, and a couple of the OC boys mentioned it. Reggie's a slick item. He's quite pleasant, seems like a good guy, easygoing. But he ain't. I don't know if he'd kill a cop, but I don't know that he wouldn't. Depends on how bad he needs to, I think. I don't know if he's got a soul or not. But I know he's got no conscience."

"How about fear?" Jesse said. "He got any of that?"

"He can cause it, but no, I don't think he's afraid of much."

Jesse grinned.

"Wait'll he gets a load of me," he said.

Healy nodded slowly.

"That's what worries me," he said.