A Drink Before the War by Dennis Lehane Page B

still owed several thousand more to some men in Connecticut. Rather than tell Cheswick and risk his disappointment, she made an arrangement with the men in Connecticut, and some pictures were taken.
    One day Cheswick got a phone call. The caller described the photos and promised they’d be on the desk of the firm’s senior partner by the following Monday if Cheswick didn’t come up with a high five-figure sum by the end of the week. Cheswick was livid. It wasn’t the money that bothered him—his family fortune was huge—it was the advantagethey’d taken of both his sister’s problem and his love for her. So concerned was he for his sister that not once during our first meeting did I get the feeling it was the jeopardy to his job that angered him, and I admired that.
    Cheswick got my name from a guy he knew in legal aid, and gave me the money to deliver with the express demand that I bring back all photos and negatives, and an absolute assurance that this would stop here and now. Elise’s debt, I was to tell these men, was paid in full.
    For reasons I can’t even remember anymore, I brought Bubba along for the ride when I went down to Connecticut. After finding out that the blackmailers were a rogue group with no connections, no real muscle, and absolutely no juice with any politicians, we met two of them in a Hartford high-rise. Bubba held one guy by his ankles out a twelfth floor window while I negotiated with the guy’s partner. By the time Bubba’s victim had voided himself, his partner had decided that yes, one dollar was a very fair settlement price. I paid him in pennies.
    Cheswick has been returning the favor to me by representing me gratis ever since.
    He raised his eyebrows at the blood on my clothes. Very quietly he said, “I’d like a moment alone with my client, please.”
    Ferry crossed his arms and leaned in toward me. “So fucking what,” he said.
    Cheswick yanked the seat out from under Ferry’s foot. “So fucking get out of the room now, Detective , or I’ll slap this department with enough false arrest, harassment, and unlawful detainment citations to keep you in court until long after you’ve reached your twenty.” He looked at me. “Have you been Mirandized?”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œOf course he’s been fucking Mirandized,” Ferry said.
    â€œYou’re still here?” Cheswick said, reaching into his briefcase.
    Geilston said, “Come on, partner.”
    Ferry said, “Hell no. Just because—”
    Cheswick was looking at the both of them flatly, and Geilston had his hand on Ferry’s arm. He said, “We don’t mess with this, Ferry.”
    Cheswick said, “Listen to your partner, Detective.”
    Ferry said, “We’ll meet again.” Professor Moriarty to Sherlock Holmes.
    Cheswick said, “At your inquest, no doubt. Start saving now, Detective. I’m expensive.”
    Geilston gave one last tug on Ferry’s arm and they left the room.
    I said, “What’s up?” expecting he had something private to tell me.
    â€œOh, nothing,” he said. “I just do that to show them who’s boss. It gives me a woody.”
    â€œSwell.”
    He looked at my face, at the blood. “You’re not having a good day, are you?”
    I shook my head slowly.
    His voice lost its levity. “Are you all right? Really? I’ve heard snippets of what happened, but not much.”
    â€œI just want to go home, Cheswick. I’m tired and I got blood all over me, and I’m hungry, and I’m not in the best of moods.”
    He patted my arm. “Well, I have good news from the DA then. From everything he’s heard, they have nothing to charge you with. You are to consider yourself released pending further investigation, don’t take any sudden trips, blah, blah, blah.”
    â€œMy gun?”
    â€œThey keep that, I’m afraid.