The Professional

Chapter 37

NOW THAT HE didn’t have to babysit Gary Eisenhower anymore, Hawk was at leisure, so he rode up to Wickton College with me.

“So how come you didn’t let Boo have a go at Junior?” he said.

“Junior would have killed him,” I said.

“So?”

“No need for it,” I said.

Hawk shrugged.

“And how come we going up to talk to these people ’bout Gary Eisenhower? Ain’t that all wrapped up?”

“Told her I would,” I said.

“Who?”

“Director of counseling at the college,” I said.

We were on Route 2, west of Fitchburg. Mostly bare winter trees to look at.

“You a bear for cleaning up loose ends,” Hawk said.

“I’m a curious guy,” I said.

“You sho’ nuff are,” Hawk said.

We turned off Route 2 and headed north on 202 toward Winchendon. We stopped for coffee, and in another half-hour we were at Wickton College.

“Don’t see a lot of African-Americans ’round here,” Hawk said.

“You may be the first,” I said.

“At least I the perfect specimen.”

“You want to come in with me, Specimen?” I said.

“Naw,” Hawk said. “I think I sit here and see if I attract the attention of some college girls.”

“I don’t want to discourage you,” I said. “But no one paid any attention to me when I was here last time.”

Hawk looked at me silently for a while.

Then he said, “What that got to do with me?”

I left him and went in to see Mary Brown.

“Your recommendations support you,” she said when I was seated. “Particularly your honey bun.”

“Good to know,” I said.

“I obviously cannot break confidence with Mr. Pappas,” she said. “But I can tell you things that are on the public record.”

I waited.

“Our campus security officers do not have full police powers, so if there’s an incident we ask the local police to step in,” she said.

I waited some more.

“Mr. Pappas had a penchant for women who were with other men,” she said. “This precipitated several fights. Often with alcohol involved. On one occasion our security officers had to call local authorities to stabilize the situation.”

“And Mr. Pappas got busted?” I said.

“Yes.”

“And booked?” I said.

“Yes.”

“So if I were to speak to the local cops, I might learn something.”

“Yes.”

“Do you know what I might learn?” I said.

“I believe so,” she said.

“I don’t wish to compromise your ethics,” I said. “But if I’m going to know it anyway, why not save me a trip to the fuzz.”

She thought about that for a time.

“He was released without penalty under the condition that he seek counseling from a psychotherapist.”

“There’s one around here?”

“One,” she said. “He has offices in the medical center.”

“Name?” I said.

She hesitated.

“His name is Paul Doucette,” she said. “I’ve alerted him that you might visit.”

“Hot damn,” I said. “So you were going to tell me this before I even arrived.”

“I thought I might,” she said.

“So it wasn’t my clever questioning,” I said.

“No.”

“How about charm,” I said.

“Well,” she said, and smiled. “That was certainly part of it.”

“Oh, good,” I said. “Is it enough to get me directions, too?”

“We have them preprinted,” she said, and took a card out of a file on her desk and handed it to me.

“Thank you,” I said.

“Your honey bun was very persuasive,” Mary said.

When I came out of the administration building, Hawk was leaning on the fender, talking with two college girls.

“This is Janice, and Loretta,” Hawk said. “We been discussing African tribal practices.”

“Any particular tribe?” I said.

“Mine,” Hawk said.

The girls said, “How do you do.”

“Have to excuse us,” I said. “Gotta go down to the medical center.”

“He scared to go alone,” Hawk said.

The girls said good-bye, we got in, and the girls waved after us as we drove away.

“What tribe was that again?” I said.

“I forgot,” Hawk said.