Widow’s Walk

CHAPTER FORTY-SIX

Hawk and I reported in to Rita Fiore. Actually I was reporting to Rita, Hawk was along to help keep me from getting shot. Rita didn’t mind. I knew she wouldn’t. Hawk fascinated her. Among other things he was male, which gave him a running start on fascinating Rita.

“I think I want a raise,” I said.

“And you don’t want to take it out in trade?” Rita said.

“Perhaps my associate,” I said.

Hawk smiled serenely.

“You think?” Rita said.

“One never knows,” Hawk said. “Do one.”

“Keep me in mind,” Rita said, and to me, “Why do you need a raise?”

“Wear and tear on my brain,” I said. “Every time I turn over a rock, there’s three more rocks.”

“I’ll help you,” Rita said. “Tell me about it.”

She sat back in her big leather swivel chair and crossed her admirable legs and listened, while I told her about it. As far as I could tell, when she slipped into her professional mode, she banished all thoughts of sexual excess.

“Okay,” she said when I finished. “Obviously there’s something going on between Pequod Bank, and Soldiers Field Development, and Marvin Conroy.”

“Yep.”

“And there’s probably something going on among Larson Graff, and Mary Smith, and the boyfriend, whatsisname.”

“Roy Levesque.”

“And maybe Ann Kiley is in there somewhere.”

“Or maybe she’s just Conroy’s girlfriend and loved not wisely but too well,” I said.

“Don’t we all,” Rita said. She looked at Hawk. “Except maybe you,” she said.

Hawk smiled at her. Rita swung her crossed leg thoughtfully. She was wearing a red suit with a just barely street-legal skirt. The suit went surprisingly well with her red hair.

“You’ve got a bank and a development company in some sort of uncertain relationship,” I said. “That raise any flags?”

Rita nodded. “I’ll talk with Abner Grove,” she said. “He’s our tax and finance guy. See what he can find out.”

“It may not help your client,” I said.

“If I am going to put up the best defense I can, I need to know as much as I can. I’m not obliged to use it all. What you can do is come at this from the other end.”

“Mary, Larson, and Roy,” I said.

“Sounds like a singing group.”

“Maybe it will be,” I said.

“So you start from your end, and we’ll start from ours, and maybe we’ll meet in the middle.”

“Or maybe we won’t,” I said.

“Coincidences do exist.”

“They do,” I said.

“You think they exist in this case?”

“No.”

Rita eyed Hawk, who appeared to be thinking of faraway places. I knew he wasn’t. Hawk always knew everything that was going on around him.

“What do you think about coincidence,” Rita said to him.

“Hard to prepare for,” Hawk said.