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Authors: Robert B. Parker
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door with a clear interest in your body.”
Rita smiled, and said, “Those were the days, my friend.”
She took a small bite of her tuna-fish sandwich and chewed it in a ladylike manner, and swallowed gracefully.
“You ever sleep with a redhead?” she said.
“I’m not sure,” I said.
“Lost count, have we?”
I had a ham and cheese sandwich on light rye. I ate some.
“Come to think of it,” Rita said, “so have I.”
I drank some coffee. “Good for us,” I said.
“Yeah,” Rita said. “Better than being able to remember the only one, in detail.”
“There’s only been one for a while,” I said.
“I’m painfully aware of that,” Rita said.
“Moving on,” I said. “What did you find out about Soldiers Field Development?”
“Not a hell of a lot,” Rita said. “They do real estate development-office buildings, motels, malls, stuff like that. Nathan Smith was on the board of directors.”
“Oh ha!”
“Oh ha? What the hell is Oh ha?”
“Combination of oh ho and ah ha,” I said. “I believe in variety.”
“Me too,” Rita said. “Do you say oh ha when you encounter a clue?”
“Or ah ha! Or oh ho! Depends on how many clues I have to react to.”
“Well, it’s not been much of a problem in this case,” Rita said. “Why are you so interested in Soldiers Field Development?”
“There’s been people following me since I took this case,” I said. “They’re connected to Soldiers Field Development.”
“And now Nathan Smith turns up on the board,” Rita said.
“Yes.”
Rita smiled.
“Oh ha!” she said. “So how does this help my client?”
“If she didn’t kill him, someone else did. I’m looking for the someone else.”
“And how does this do that?” Rita said.
“I don’t know yet,” I said. “What I know is that something’s going on with Soldiers Field Development that is connected to this case.”
Rita picked up her coffee and stood and went to the window and looked out, sipping coffee.
“Are you thinking?” I said. “Or showing me your butt?”
“Both,” Rita said. “I think better standing, but I haven’t put in all those hours on the StairMaster to hide my butt under a bushel.”
“The StairMaster has paid off,” I said.
“Thank you. What do you think about the connection between a banker and a real estate developer?”
“It might involve money,” I said.
Rita turned slowly and looked at me over the rim of her coffee cup.
“Wow,” she said.
“It’s magic, isn’t it, how I can read people?”
“Magic.”
“The bank is a family business,” I said.
“That’s what I’m told,” Rita said.
“Has it always been just Smiths running it?”
“I don’t know.”
“Can you find out?” I said.
“Isn’t that what we’re employing you to do?”
“It’s a waste of my talent,” I said. “The premier law firm in Boston must have a dozen people who can research that faster than I can. But I’ll bet none of them can take a punch.”
“I haven’t punched all of them,” Rita said. “But I get your point.”
“So, can you find out how many partners the bank has had?”
“That weren’t family?”
“Yes.”
“And you want to know this why?”
“Because he’s got a partner now, guy named Marvin Conroy.”
“You’re suspicious of him?”
“Not really. But over the years I’ve learned to look for pattern so I can see variation, if any. Marvin Conroy might be a variation. If he is, I want to know why.”
“Makes sense,” Rita said.
“So can you do that?”
“Sure.”
CHAPTER TWENTY
I leaned on the heavy bag and watched Hawk hit the speed. His face was expressionless, with a hint of amusement, the way it always was. He hit the bag with one hand, and then with both. He used his elbows. He appeared to be entirely relaxed, pleasantly absorbed in the music and movement of the bag.
“I’m going to drop in on Felton Shawcross,” I said. “At Soldiers Field Development.”
“Good,” Hawk
Rita smiled, and said, “Those were the days, my friend.”
She took a small bite of her tuna-fish sandwich and chewed it in a ladylike manner, and swallowed gracefully.
“You ever sleep with a redhead?” she said.
“I’m not sure,” I said.
“Lost count, have we?”
I had a ham and cheese sandwich on light rye. I ate some.
“Come to think of it,” Rita said, “so have I.”
I drank some coffee. “Good for us,” I said.
“Yeah,” Rita said. “Better than being able to remember the only one, in detail.”
“There’s only been one for a while,” I said.
“I’m painfully aware of that,” Rita said.
“Moving on,” I said. “What did you find out about Soldiers Field Development?”
“Not a hell of a lot,” Rita said. “They do real estate development-office buildings, motels, malls, stuff like that. Nathan Smith was on the board of directors.”
“Oh ha!”
“Oh ha? What the hell is Oh ha?”
“Combination of oh ho and ah ha,” I said. “I believe in variety.”
“Me too,” Rita said. “Do you say oh ha when you encounter a clue?”
“Or ah ha! Or oh ho! Depends on how many clues I have to react to.”
“Well, it’s not been much of a problem in this case,” Rita said. “Why are you so interested in Soldiers Field Development?”
“There’s been people following me since I took this case,” I said. “They’re connected to Soldiers Field Development.”
“And now Nathan Smith turns up on the board,” Rita said.
“Yes.”
Rita smiled.
“Oh ha!” she said. “So how does this help my client?”
“If she didn’t kill him, someone else did. I’m looking for the someone else.”
“And how does this do that?” Rita said.
“I don’t know yet,” I said. “What I know is that something’s going on with Soldiers Field Development that is connected to this case.”
Rita picked up her coffee and stood and went to the window and looked out, sipping coffee.
“Are you thinking?” I said. “Or showing me your butt?”
“Both,” Rita said. “I think better standing, but I haven’t put in all those hours on the StairMaster to hide my butt under a bushel.”
“The StairMaster has paid off,” I said.
“Thank you. What do you think about the connection between a banker and a real estate developer?”
“It might involve money,” I said.
Rita turned slowly and looked at me over the rim of her coffee cup.
“Wow,” she said.
“It’s magic, isn’t it, how I can read people?”
“Magic.”
“The bank is a family business,” I said.
“That’s what I’m told,” Rita said.
“Has it always been just Smiths running it?”
“I don’t know.”
“Can you find out?” I said.
“Isn’t that what we’re employing you to do?”
“It’s a waste of my talent,” I said. “The premier law firm in Boston must have a dozen people who can research that faster than I can. But I’ll bet none of them can take a punch.”
“I haven’t punched all of them,” Rita said. “But I get your point.”
“So, can you find out how many partners the bank has had?”
“That weren’t family?”
“Yes.”
“And you want to know this why?”
“Because he’s got a partner now, guy named Marvin Conroy.”
“You’re suspicious of him?”
“Not really. But over the years I’ve learned to look for pattern so I can see variation, if any. Marvin Conroy might be a variation. If he is, I want to know why.”
“Makes sense,” Rita said.
“So can you do that?”
“Sure.”
CHAPTER TWENTY
I leaned on the heavy bag and watched Hawk hit the speed. His face was expressionless, with a hint of amusement, the way it always was. He hit the bag with one hand, and then with both. He used his elbows. He appeared to be entirely relaxed, pleasantly absorbed in the music and movement of the bag.
“I’m going to drop in on Felton Shawcross,” I said. “At Soldiers Field Development.”
“Good,” Hawk
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