The Professional

Chapter 51

BELSON AND I sat in Belson’s car outside a Dunkin’ Donuts on Gallivan Boulevard, drinking coffee and browsing a box of assorted donuts. I preferred the plain ones. Belson liked the ones with strawberry frosting and sprinkles.

“What kind of sissy eats strawberry-frosted donuts?” I said.

“With jimmies,” Belson said.

“I had too much respect for you,” I said, “even to mention the jimmies.”

“Thanks,” Belson said. “My poetic side.”

“Um,” I said.

“You know that Jackson’s widow has moved in with your boy Goran?”

“And his girlfriend,” I said.

“What the fuck is that about?” Belson said.

“Love?” I said.

Belson looked at me as if I had just spit up.

“They did the will,” Belson said. “She is now worth eighty million, seven hundred, and twenty-three bucks.”

“More or less,” I said.

“That’s the number they gave me,” Belson said. “I assume it’s rounded to the nearest dollar.”

“Might explain why Estelle and Gary have welcomed her into their home,” I said.

“But why does she want to go?” Belson said.

“Why do most people do anything?” I said.

“Love or money, or variations on either,” Belson said.

“She don’t seem to need money,” I said.

“So we’re back to love,” Belson said.

“But you don’t like it,” I said.

“I don’t see that broad doing anything for love,” Belson said.

“You don’t like Beth?” I said.

“I think she killed her husband,” Belson said.

“Not herself,” I said.

“No, but there’s people who’ll do anything you need if you have money.”

“She didn’t have it until her husband died,” I said.

“So maybe she got a trusting hit guy,” Belson said.

“Like who?” I said.

Belson shrugged.

“Don’t know any trusting hit guys,” he said.

We were quiet. Belson ate the last strawberry-frosted.

“Love and money,” he said.

“Or sex and money,” I said.

“Same thing,” Belson said.

“You think they took it out in trade?” I said.

“It’s what she’s got,” Belson said.

“And it’s gotten her this far,” I said.

“So it’s a theory,” Belson said.

He found a chocolate-cream donut under a cinnamon one, and took it out from under and dusted off the accidental cinnamon and took a careful bite. The donut had a squishy filling, and Belson was very neat.

“She know anybody would kill somebody?” Belson said.

“Her husband did,” I said. “She probably met some. She knew Boo and Zel.”

“I’ll keep it in mind,” Belson said.

“Doesn’t explain why she’s living with Gary and Estelle,” I said.

“Nope,” Belson said.

I located the cinnamon donut that Belson had put aside in favor of chocolate cream. We ate silently for a moment.

“We don’t have any idea what we’re doing,” I said.

“No,” Belson said. “We don’t seem to.”