Widow’s Walk

CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO

It was a hot day and there was no air moving. Donovan’s Liquors was a big store with a big sign in the window that advertised the coldest beer in Boston. There was a burly woman with big brass-colored hair at the cash register when I went in.

“Chuckie Scanlan?” I said to her.

“He’s out back.”

“Mind if I go back and see him?” I said.

“Who are you?”

“New caseworker,” I said. “Wanted to say hello.”

It was a vague enough term to cover several jobs and I figured Chuckie would be covered by one of them. The big woman made an ushering sweep with her right hand and pointed me toward the back room. Chuckie was stacking cases of Budweiser. He was a short wide guy with very little hair.

“Chuckie Scanlan?”

“Yeah?”

“My name’s Spenser. We need to talk.”

Scanlan’s eyes showed a moment of something and then went dead again.

“About what?”

“You, Kevin McGonigle.”

“Kevin’s dead,” Scanlan said.

“And you’re not,” I said, “yet.”

“Whaddya mean?”

“We need to talk,” I said.

Scanlan jerked his head and we went out the back door into the heavy air and sat on a pile of wooden skids in the near corner of the narrow parking lot behind the store. Scanlan lit a cigarette.

“You a cop?” he said.

“Private,” I said. “I came from Bobby Kiley’s office.”

“Kiley?”

“Kiley and Harbaugh. They represented you a couple years ago.”

“Oh, yeah. The broad came down, got us sprung. Cops had nothing.”

“Broad’s name was probably Ann,” I said.

“Yeah, Ms. Kiley. Good-looking. Smart as hell,” Scanlan said. “How come you’re talking about me not being dead, yet?”

“You know Marvin Conroy?”

Scanlan took in some smoke and let it out slowly, squinting through it at me. “Conroy?”

“Un-huh.”

“I never met him. I think he was a friend of Jack’s.”

“Jack?” I said.

“DeRosa,” Scanlan said.

Bingo! “How’d you know DeRosa?” I said.

“He hired me and Kevin to do some stuff.”

“For Conroy?”

“I guess.”

“You know what happened to McGonigle?” I said.

“I heard Kevin got it in a shootout over on A Street.”

“From me,” I said.

“Huh?”

“He got it from me. I shot him.”

Scanlan took in some more smoke. I knew so few people who smoked anymore that it was kind of fascinating to watch him.

“How come you shot him?”

“He was trying to shoot me,” I said.

Scanlan shrugged. “Shit happens,” he said.

“Tell me about Marvin Conroy.”

“Nothing to tell,” Scanlan said. “When the cops tried to hang me with that bum rap he helped me out with the lawyer.”

“Why?” I said.

“I guess he was the one got Jack to hire us.”

“To do what?”

Scanlan said, “A little of this, a little of that.”

“You’re a thug,” I said. “You were doing strong-arm work.”

“Cops couldn’t hold us.”

“Somebody shot Jack DeRosa to pieces,” I said.

“Jack?”

“Jack and his girlfriend,” I said. “Fifty rounds.”

“Margy?”

“Yep.”

“Why her?”

“Probably for being there.”

“Who done it?”

“What would be your guess?” I said.

“How the fuck would I know?”

“I figure Jack got it because he knew something and somebody wanted to make sure he didn’t tell it to me.”

“You?”

“Yeah,” I said. “I figure you know it, too.”

“They killed him so he wouldn’t talk with you?”

“Seems like.”

“So?”

“Now I’m talking to you,” I said.

Scanlan looked around the parking area.

“You son of a bitch,” he said.

I smiled at him.

“You’re setting me up.”

“No,” I said. “I’m asking you about Marvin Conroy.”

“Why him?”

“Detective’s intuition,” I said.

“And if I don’t know nothing about him?”

“I keep hanging around and asking about him and talking to you and talking to other people about talking to you.”

“You bastard, you’re going to get me killed.”

“Not if you tell me what you know.”

Scanlan glanced around the lot again. There were only two cars parked there.

“You got a gun,” Scanlan said.

“I do.”

“What happens if I remembered some stuff?” Scanlan said.

“I go away and never mention your name again,” I said.

Scanlan dropped his cigarette and stepped on it and got out a package of Marlboros and lit a new one.

“I don’t know much,” he said.

I waited.

“Jack DeRosa come to me and Kevin one day, says he’s got a easy couple a hundred for us. Tells me all we got to do is rough up some fucking suit. So we say why not, and he says the guy comes down Summer Street every night, same time, got a condo over by the milk bottle thing, you know? And we say fine, we’ll pull him over behind the Postal Annex and have our talk.”

Scanlan dragged in some smoke.

“So the next night, Jack drives us over there and points out the guy. He waits in the car, and we go over and do it. But while we’re doing it some fucking postal cop comes by and pulls his gun. Once in a lifetime, you know, I mean, how many postal cops you ever seen, for crissake. Jack takes off, and we’re busted. EMT’S show up and patch our guy up and we all go over to the station and me and Kevin are shutting up because, what the fuck, we don’t even know why we’re smacking the guy around.”

“DeRosa tell you to say anything to him?”

“Jack says just tell him it’s a message from his bank.”

“He seem to understand that?”

“Who knows. He’s so fucking scared it’s hard to say what he understood. So we’re in the station and the cops are yelling at us and we’re saying jack shit, and this lady lawyer comes in. Man, I’d fuck her in a heartbeat.”

“She’ll be pleased to know that,” I said.

“She tells us her name and says she’s from Kiley and Harbaugh. She says that the suit won’t bring charges, and that she’s getting us released.”

He stopped his eyes moving back and forth across the parking lot.

“That’s it?” I said.

“Yeah.”

“You never saw her again?”

“No.”

“Where’s Marvin Conroy come in?” I said.

“Oh, him,” Scanlan said. “Jack picks us up after we’re out, and I say to Jack, ”Thanks for sending us a lawyer,“ and he says, ”No problem,“ and I say, ”We owe anybody any money?“‘ and he says, ”Nope, it’s on Marvin Conroy,“ and I say, ”Who’s Marvin Conroy?“’ And Jack kind of smiles and says, ”The guy from the bank.“”

“You know who sent McGonigle to kill me?”

“No idea.”

“You driving the car?”

“No way.”

“Jack DeRosa send you?”

“I wasn’t there, man. DeRosa was in jail then.”

“How do you know when it happened?”

“Kevin was a friend of mine,” Scalan said. “I remember when he got killed.”

“DeRosa send McGonigle?”

“Could be,” Scalan said.

I nodded. I didn’t believe he wasn’t driving, but I didn’t think he knew much more than he’d told me. He was too far down the food chain. And I was pretty sure he wouldn’t admit to being an accomplice to attempted murder. So I let it go.

“Okay,” I said. “We’re done.”

“What’d you tell Barb?”

“At the checkout counter? I said I was your new caseworker.”

Scanlan nodded. “She knows I done time,” he said. “You gonna keep your mouth shut about this like you said?”

“Like a stone,” I said.