chapter thirty-seven
A CAMBRIDGE DETECTNE named Kearny took our statements in Susan's downstairs office. He was in the middle of it when Lee Farrell showed up. Kearny and Farrell knew each other.
"Who fought your battles before you met Susan?" Farrell said to me.
"I used to run," I said.
"You just visiting," Kearny said to Farrell, "or has Boston got an interest?"
"Boston has an interest," Farrell said. "You people got the piece that Susan took away from one of the alleged assailants?"
"Yeah, a little bang-bang named Kenneth Philchock."
"Somerville's got a homicide, woman named Carla Quagliozzi."
"Broad got her tongue cut out," Kearny said. "I heard about that."
"She got shot first. Be good to know if it was Philchock's gun."
"Call Lieutenant Harmon about that," Kearny said. "Why is Boston interested?"
"Got a case that ties in," Farrell said.
"You want to share it with me?" Kearny said.
"Call Captain Quirk about that," Farrell said. "How are you, Susan?"
"I'm fine, Lee."
"People get shaky sometimes, after the fact."
"I know, but I'm fine."
"DeMilo and whatsisname made a statement?"
"Philchock," Kearny said. "I don't know, Lee. I'm trying to get a statement from these people, you know?"
Farrell nodded.
"I'll call Central Square," he said. "Okay?"
He nodded at the phone on Susan's desk.
"Of course."
"Awful polite for a cop," I said.
"But not for a homosexual," Farrell said.
"Oh yeah," I said. "I forgot."
Farrell dialed a number.
"Okay," Kearny said. "I got what happened. Either of you got a theory about why?"
Susan shook her head.
"You know either of the assailants?" Kearny said.
"No." Susan's voice was firm.
Kearny looked at me. "You know them?"
"Nope."
I didn't look at Farrell. He didn't say anything. He was busy telling somebody at Cambridge Police Headquarters who he was.
"You make a lot of enemies," he said. "Anybody mad at you?"
"Hard to imagine," I said.
"Yeah," Kearny said. "Anybody?"
"Can't think of anybody," I said.
Farrell hunched the phone in his shoulder and looked at me while he waited to be transferred to the proper department. But he still didn't say anything and I saw no reason to get too many footprints on the problem until I figured it out better than I had.
"Guys like these two don't usually assault strangers on the street for the hell of it," Kearny said.
"I know," I said. "Doesn't make any sense, does it."
"It would make a lot more sense if this was related to you nosing around in somebody's business who didn't want you nosing around in his business," Kearny said.
"It sure would," I said.
Open and earnest, a law-abiding citizen eager to help the police. Kearny looked at me like he didn't think I was so open and earnest, and maybe even like I wasn't helping the police. Cops get cynical. Farrell had gotten connected to the proper person and talked for a moment and listened for several moments and then hung up.
"I got the feeling you're not leveling with us," Kearny said.
"I'm sorry you feel that way, officer."
"Yeah, I'll bet you are. You think he's leveling, Farrell?"
"Probably not," Lee said.
"You know anything he's holding out?"
"Nope. As far as I know, he always holds something out."
"Yeah. They got a statement from the perps?"
"They wouldn't make a statement. Just yelled for their lawyer."
"He show up?"
"Uh huh. He says there will be no statement at this time."
"Who's their lawyer?" I said.
Farrell grinned at me. "Guy named Gavin," Farrell said. "Richard Gavin."
"I'm shocked," I said. "Shocked, I tell you."
"You guys want to let me in on it?" Kearny said.
"Gavin's very active in philanthropic causes," I said. "He's on the board of a prominent charity. Hard to figure him representing these two toads."
Kearny slapped his notebook shut in disgust.
"The hell he is," Kearny said. "He's a mob lawyer. For crissake he's Haskell Wechsler's lawyer. All he ever represents is toads."
"Well, maybe he does charity work to make up," I said.
"Don't shit a shitter," Kearny said. "I don't know about you, Dr. Silverman, but you and Farrell got something you're not telling me. And you're not going to. Okay. We don't do rubber hoses anymore, so I'll eat it and go write up my report and mention that I think you're concealing evidence."
He stood up.
"Any of you got anything else to tell me that you think might be useful?"
None of us spoke. Kearny shook his head.
"Okay," Kearny said, looking at Susan and me, "we'll be in touch."
He looked at Farrell.
"Thanks for the help, Boston."
Then he put his notebook into his side pocket and went out of Susan's office. Susan looked after him.
"He's right, isn't he," she said.
I shrugged. Farrell shrugged.
"I heard the big one mention somebody that you had embarrassed."
"Haskell Wechsler," I said.
"You knew this too," she said to Farrell.
"Yeah, Quirk told me."
She looked back and forth between us.
"So why didn't you tell him what you know?" Susan said.
I shrugged. Farrell shrugged.
"I know he never tells anybody anything he doesn't need to," Susan said to Farrell. "But you're a policeman yourself, Lee."
"Maybe Wechsler's a lead for the guy got killed in your-in Sterling's office," Farrell said. "Maybe he's connected to that woman, Sterling's ex-wife got killed in Somerville. Cambridge goes after him for assault and they may screw him up for us."
"Well," Susan said. "So much for interdepartmental cooperation."
"Suze," I said. "If we can get him for murder, rather than assault, he'll go away a lot surer for a lot longer. The world is a better place with him away."
"Do you know he's the one that did the murders?"
"Or ordered them," I said. "No. Unless Lee knows something I don't know, we don't know he's guilty. But it's a good guess."
"Because?"
"Because," Farrell said, "if there's something bad going on and Haskell Wechsler is connected to it…" He shrugged.
"Haskell is a really genuinely bad man," I said.
"So you're both willing to let these two hoodlums, who assaulted us"-Susan was frowning-"you're willing to risk letting them slide in order to maybe get this Wechsler person for something worse."
"I'd trade those two jerks for Haskell Wechsler anytime," I said.
She looked at Farrell. He nodded. Susan looked back at me and wrinkled her nose.
"Not a very fragrant business," Susan said.
"Not very fragrant at all," I said.