72.
Jesse sat with Healy, late at night, in his office, with a bottle of scotch and some ice.
“Quest was stolen,” Jesse said.
“’Course it was,” Healy said.
“We don’t have much on Francisco,” Jesse said. “He didn’t even have a gun.”
“And he was just innocently riding along when a firefight broke out,” Healy said.
“We got the others for carrying unlicensed firearms, and for firing them. The claim is that they fired in self-defense.”
“And the Horn Street Boys?”
“They got a twenty-six-year-old public defender,” Jesse said. “They’ll be lucky to avoid lethal injection.”
“Jenks tells me there was some sort of dummy involved,” Healy said.
Jesse shrugged.
“And where is this guy Crow?”
Jesse shrugged again.
“Just curious,” Healy said. “But you’re right. It’s probably better if I don’t know too much about what went down over there.”
“Probably,” Jesse said.
“What about this guy Romero?” Healy said. “The one that shot Carty?”
“We got him on the unlicensed gun thing,” Jesse said. “But Francisco’s lawyer says he can make a self-defense case on the shooting. And I think he might.”
“Anyone you can turn?”
“I don’t think so. We got the most leverage with Romero,” Jesse said. “But he’s a pro. He’ll take one for the team if he has to.”
Healy nodded.
“Besides,” Jesse said. “I kind of like the way he walked in there and took Esteban out. For all Romero seemed to care, the kid could have been throwing snowballs.”
Healy leaned forward and put some more ice in his glass and poured another inch of scotch for himself.
“I’m sure he’s swell,” Healy said.
Jesse sipped his scotch, and rolled it a little in his mouth before he swallowed.
“He’s not swell,” Jesse said. “But he’s got a lot of guts.”
“How about the kid?” Healy said.
“Amber?”
Healy nodded. Jesse drank another swallow of scotch. The room was half-dark. The only light came from the crookneck lamp on Jesse’s desk.
“Francisco says he’ll leave her be,” Jesse said. “We got enough legal pressure on him up here, so he might mean it…at least for now.”
“She’s moving in with Daisy Dyke?” Healy said.
“Yes. She’ll work there. I’ll supervise her, get her in school, stuff like that.”
“Maybe I’ll stop by to watch you at the first parent-teacher meeting,” Healy said.
Jesse shook his head.
“You’re a cruel man, Healy,” he said.
“Who buys her school clothes?” Healy said. “Pays the doctor’s bills, stuff like that?”
“We have an, ah, financial arrangement with her father,” Jesse said.
“Which is no more kosher than this freaking shoot-out on the causeway,” Healy said.
“Probably not,” Jesse said.
“So I’m better off not knowing about that, too,” Healy said.
“We all are,” Jesse said.
“You think the old man will let her be?”
“I don’t think he gives a rat’s ass about her in any emotional way. I think we got a little legal pressure on him. I think it’ll be in his best interest to give all this a good leaving alone, for the time being.”
“But?”
“But we’ll keep a car around Daisy Dyke’s as much as we can,” Jesse said. “And I’ll take her places she needs to go.”
“Think she’ll stay?” Healy said.
“I don’t know. If she stays, she’s got financial security. If she runs away, she doesn’t. Her mother’s dead. Esteban’s dead. So she hasn’t got any place to run away to, that I know about.”
“Talk to any shrinks about her?” Healy said.
“My own,” Jesse said.
“And what does he say?”
“He’s not optimistic,” Jesse said.
Healy nodded. He drank some scotch and sat back in his chair.
“Gotta try,” he said.