Pastime (5 page)

"They must have built this place as the condo boom was peaking," Paul said.

"Or slightly after," I said.

Pearl skittered down the empty corridor ahead of us, her claws sliding on the new vinyl. At the elevator she pressed her nose at the crack where the closed doors met and snuffled loudly.

"I thought she only pointed birds," Paul said.

The elevator arrived, the doors opened, and we got in. When we got to the lobby there were two guys in it. One of them was a stocky guy with a highblack pompadour. He had on a black, thigh-length leather coat and black pegged pants. His black boots were badly worn at the heels and had sharp toes. The other guy was a slugger. Maybe three hundred pounds, his chin sunk into the folds of fat around his neck. Pearl went directly to them, her tail wagging, her ears pricked, her tongue lolling happily. The slugger backed up involuntarily.

"Watch it," he said to the guy with the hairdo. "That's a Doberman, it'll take your hand off."

The guy with the pompadour barely glanced at him. He put one hand down absently and scratched Pearl behind the ear.

"You the guys looking for Richie Beaumont?" he said.

I looked at Paul. "Now you say, `Who wants to know?'"

"Who wants to know?" Paul said.

"Good," I said. "Now you." I pointed at Pompadour.

"What are you, a comedian?" he said.

"Breaking the kid in," I said. "I'd appreciate if you answered right. Say,

1 want to know."

The fat slugger was looking nervously at Pearl. She turned her head toward him and he flinched a little, and put his hand inside his Members Only windbreaker.

"Listen, asshole. Vinnie Morris is outside and he wants to talk with you.

Now."

"We can do this easy or hard," Sluggo said.

"Careful I don't sic my Doberman on you," I said. "It ain't a fucking Doberman," Pompadour said,"it's a fucking pointer. Tiny don't know shit from dogs."

"Among other things," I said. "We'll talk with Vinnie."

I put Pearl's leash on and we went out through the wide glass doors and down the empty capacious steps. The light had the brightness of nearby ocean in it, and there was traffic moving on the boulevard. In the turnaround in front of the near empty condominium complex a white Lincoln

Town Car was parked. When we reached it, the rear window went down, and there was Vinnie. He still had the thick black mustache, but his hair was shorter now. He still dressed like a GQ cover boy.

"What the hell is that on the end of the leash?" he said. "You finally get married?"

"That's Pearl," I said. "This is Paul Giacomin. Vinnie Morris. You still with Joe, Vinnie?"

"You been trying to find Richie Beaumont," Vinnie said.

"Actually we've been trying to find Patty Giacomin," I said. "Beaumont is her boyfriend."

"Why you want her?"

"She's my mother," Paul said.

Vinnie nodded. "She sort of took off on you, huh? And didn't tell you where she was going."

"Yes," Paul said. "Or not. I don't know where she is."

"And you're looking for Richie because he's her boyfriend and you figure he'll know?"

Paul nodded.

"You know Richie Beaumont?" Vinnie said.

"No."

Vinnie nodded again and sucked on his upper lip a little.

"And if you knew where he was you wouldn't be here looking for him."

Neither Paul nor I said anything. Vinnie nodded again, to himself. At the end of the nod he jerked his head at the two soldiers. The guy with the pompadour started around the car toward the driver's side. The slugger made a circle around Pearl as he got in his side.

"I'll bet you never had a puppy as a kid," I said to him.

"Tiny never was a kid," Vinnie said. "You gonna be in your office today?"

"Could be," I said. "Any special time?"

Vinnie looked at his watch. "This afternoon, around four."

"I'll be there," I said.

Vinnie reached his hand out the rear window toward Pearl, who promptly licked it. Vinnie looked at her a moment and shook his head. He took the show handkerchief out of the breast pocket of his dark suit and wiped his hands. The car started up and pulled away, and as it went the tinted rear window eased silently up.

"You care to comment on any of this?" Paul said.

"The two enlisted men don't count. Vinnie Morris is Joe Broz's executive officer. Joe Broz is a crook."

"A crook."

"A major league, nationally known, well-connected crook," I said.

"Well, isn't this getting worse and worse," Paul said.

"Maybe," I said.

"Why are they interested in my mother?"

"I think they're interested in her for the same reason we're interested in Beaumont."

"They're looking for him."

I nodded.

"Why did he want you to be in your office later?"

"He wants to talk with me after he's talked with Joe."

"Mind if I am there?" Paul said.

I shrugged. "I hate an astute kid," I said.

"I shouldn't be there."

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` No.

"Because he's got stuff to say about my mother he doesn't want me to hear."

"Probably."

"We should have insisted he say what he had to say.

"Vinnie's hard to insist," I said.

I could see the chill of realization dart through him. I knew the feeling.

"Jesus," he said. "What is she into?"

"Maybe nothing," I said. "Maybe just a boyfriend who will turn out to be sleazy."

"It would be consistent," Paul said.

Pearl had discovered a gum wrapper and was busy sniffing it from all possible perspectives.

"Can we go back to your office and call him now?"

"No," I said.

"But I want to know. I don't want to wait."

"This is a business, like most businesses it has its own rules. We let him call me at the office around four."

"That doesn't make any sense," Paul said. "Why do we have to sweat all afternoon out for some goddamned rules of the game?"

"Look," I said. "Vinnie and I have a kind of working relation, despite the fact that we are, you might say, sworn enemies. Vinnie will do what he says he will do, and so will I. He knows it, and I know it, and we can function that way. It is in our best interest to keep it that way."

"This sucks," Paul said.

Pearl picked up the gum wrapper and chewed it experimentally, and found it without savor and spit it out.

"It often does," I said.

He'd changed his clothes. This morning it had been a black suit with a pale blue chalk stripe. Now it was an olive brown Harris Tweed jacket, with a tattersall shirt and a rust-colored knit tie, with a wide knot. His slacks were charcoal. His kiltie loafers were mahogany cordovan. His wool socks were rust. I knew he was carrying, but his clothes were so well tailored that I couldn't tell where.

"You got the piece in the small of your back?" I said. "So it won't break the line of your jacket?"

"Yeah."

"It will take you an extra second to get it. Vanity will kill you sometime,

Vinnie."

"Hasn't so far," Vinnie said. "The kid hire you?"

"No," I said. "It's personal."

"You and the kid or you and the old lady?"

"The kid. He's like family. The old lady doesn't matter to me except as she matters to the kid."

Vinnie was silent. I waited.

"I talked this over with Joe," Vinnie said. I waited some more. Vinnie didn't need prompting.

Vinnie shook his head and almost smiled. "He can't fucking stand you," he said.

"A tribute," I said, "to years of effort."

"But he left it up to me what I tell you, what I don't."

Vinnie was gazing past my shoulder out over Berkeley Street; there was a slice of sky you could see from that angle, to the right of the new building, and up, before the buildings closed you off across the street.

"We got an interest in Richie Beaumont."

I nodded.

A look of nearly concealed distaste showed at the corners of his mouth for a moment. "He's a friend of Joe's kid."

"Joe deserves Gerry," I said.

"I ain't here to talk about it," Vinnie said. "Gerry brought Rich in and gave him some responsibility."

"And…?"

"And it didn't work out."

"And Rich dropped out of sight," I said.

"Yeah."

"Maybe with some property that Joe feels is not rightfully his."

"Yeah."

"And then you heard I was looking for him."

Vinnie was nodding slowly.

"Martinelli called you."

"Somebody called somebody, don't matter who."

"And you thought I might know something useful. So you collected the two galoots and went to meet me at the condo."

"Okay," Vinnie said. "You got everything we know. Now what do you know?"

"I got nowhere near what you know," I said. "What did Beaumont take that belongs to you? Money? Something he can use for blackmail? What were he and

Gerry involved in? It had to be bad. Anything Gerry's involved in would make a buzzard puke."

"You figure Richie took off with this Giacomin broad?" Vinnie said.

"Don't know," I said. "She's not around. Thought it was logical to see if she was with her boyfriend."

"He's not around," Vinnie said.

"Un huh," I said. My repartee grew more elegant with every passing year.

"You got a thought where he might be?"

"Un uh," I said.

Vinnie sat back a little and looked at me. He had

one knee crossed over the other and he tossed his foot for a moment while he looked.

"You used to be a mouthy bastard," he said finally.

"Brevity is the soul of wit," I said.

"Why's the kid want to find her?" Vinnie said.

I shrugged. "She's not around."

"So what?" Vinnie said. "My old lady's not around either. I ain't looking for her."

"He cares about her," I said.

"There's one difference right there," Vinnie said. "She got something he wants?"

"His past," I said.

Vinnie looked at me some more, and tossed his foot some more.

"His past," Vinnie said.

I nodded.

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?"

"Kid's about to get married," I said. "She was pretty much a bitch all his childhood and he wants to know her as something other than that before he moves too far on into adulthood."

"You shoulda been a college professor," Vinnie said.

"You say that because you don't know any college professors," I said.

Vinnie shrugged. "Anyway, that may all be true, whatever the fuck it means, but it don't help my case. Or, far as I can see, yours."

"True," I said. "But you asked me."

"Yeah," Vinnie said. "Sure. The point is you'relooking and we're looking and I want to be sure we aren't trampling on each other's feet, you know?"

He took a package of Juicy Fruit gum from his coat pocket and offered me some. I shook my head, and he selected a stick, and peeled it open, and folded it into his mouth.

"Me and Joe don't give a fuck about her," he said. "We want him."

"I don't give a fuck about him," I said. "I want her."

Vinnie smiled widely. "Perfect," he said and chewed his gum slowly.

"How about Gerry?" I said.

This time there was no hint of expression in Vinnie's face. "Hey, he's

Joe's kid."

"Joe's a creep," I said, "but compared to his kid he's Abraham Lincoln."

Vinnie turned his hands palms up.

"Is Gerry going to get in the way?" I said.

"Joe told him to stay out of this."

"You think he will?"

Again Vinnie's face was without expression. His voice was entirely neutral.

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No.

"Like I said. What about Gerry?"

"Okay," Vinnie said. "We won't fuck around with this either. I been with

Joe a long time. You don't like him. That's okay. He don't like you. But

Joe says he'll do something, he will. He says he won't, he won't."

"That's true for you, Vinnie. It's not true for Joe."

"We won't argue. I know Joe a long time. But we both know Gerry and we know he's a fucking ignoramus.

"But he's mean and you can't trust him," I said.

"Exactly," Vinnie said. "And Joe loves him. Joe don't see him for the fucking weasel that he is."

"So you're going to have trouble with Gerry too."

"Nothing I can't handle."

"Tricky though," I said.

"Yeah," Vinnie said.

"You want to tell me what kind of mess Gerry is in with Richie Beaumont?"

"No."

The light was beginning to fade outside, and the traffic sounds drifting up from Boylston Street increased as people started going home. The iron workers had already left the site where Linda Thomas had worked once, across the street, and the maroon skeleton stood empty. Bare ruined choirs where late the sweet birds sang.

"I have no interest in Richie Beaumont," I said. "But I have a lot of interest in Patty Giacomin. I would not want anything bad to happen to her."

"I got no need to hurt the old lady," Vinnie said. "You let me know if you find her?"

"You let me know if you find him?"

I grinned. "Maybe."

"Yeah," Vinnie said. "Me too."

We were silent some more, listening to the traffic. "I don't want trouble with you, Spenser."

"Who would," I said.

"You're probably half as good as you think you are," Vinnie said. "But that's pretty good. And you got resources."

"Hawk," I said.

"You and he can be a large pain in the fungones."

"Nice of you to say so, Vinnie. Hawk will be flattered."

"So let's think about helping each other out, maybe, to the extent we can."

"Sure," I said.

"Good," Vinnie said. Then he stood up and headed for the door. At the door he paused, and then turned slowly back.

"Hawk with you in this?" he said.

"Not so far," I said.

"Gerry's got a lot at stake here," Vinnie said. He looked down, and without looking up said, "Kid's a back-shooter."

"He has to be," I said. "Thanks."

Vinnie was still looking at the floor. He nodded.

"Yeah," he said. And went out.