join up
with us five years ago and we wouldn’t have him.
The way he rides around in that red Chevy, misrepresenting
himself as a real-life jake. I mean, come on. He’s
like a crazy uncle I once had who thought he
was Napoleon. Wore military outfits and the whole deal before
they sent him off to Bridgewater.”
“Don’t worry about me.”
“He’s got the crazy eyes, Kevin,” he said. “I’ve seen it. And that fucking guy Ray. I know he’s a cop, but the department up there has no use for him. They been wanting to shit-can him for four years. He knows he doesn’t have much time. It just pains me, seeing you sitting there with those two. Bad news.”
“Okay.” Kevin got up to leave. “Thanks.”
Featherstone held up a hand. “Wait,” he said. “There’s more. I want to ask you something.”
Kevin waited.
“Has either one of those two talked to you about all these fires?”
Kevin took a breath. He started to sweat. But kept it cool, breaking off a piece of donut and shrugging. “Not really. Why?”
“Something happened the other night,” Featherstone said. “At that triple-decker fire. Something that got me thinking.”
Kevin studied the man’s face and the ink-black hair sticking out from the side of his head. “I don’t know,” Featherstone said. “As soon as that fire started, there was another one. On Dot Ave. At an old warehouse. You know?”
“I heard something about it.”
“Two set off back to back,” Featherstone said. “Just got me thinking, is all.”
“Thinking about what?”
Featherstone leaned back in the booth. He shrugged and rubbed the top of his bald head before leaning in and saying, “I saw Johnny’s red car at that warehouse the night before. I didn’t think much of it. Isn’t he in security or some shit?”
“Yeah,” Kevin said. “He’s got a lot of contracts to watch old buildings. It’s what he does.”
“Just doesn’t set right with me, is all,” Featherstone said. “Him being crazy and then seeing his car. I just wanted to warn you before I tip the boys.”
“The boys?”
“Arson,” Featherstone said. “They should talk to him. Even if he didn’t have nothing to do with it, he’d know something about the building.”
Kevin felt his breath catch in his throat. He stopped chewing his donut.
“Just stay clear, buddy boy,” Featherstone said, sliding out. “Don’t get the shit splattered on you.”
Kevin nodded and smiled. Featherstone left the pastry shop, a low buzzing of fluorescent lights overhead. He looked to the cash register to make sure the woman working there was in back. He picked up the phone and called Johnny Donovan. It was nearly two a.m.
He picked up on the first ring.
“What?”
“We got some trouble.”
25
T he cops came for me the next morning. Thankfully, I’d just changed into a fresh T-shirt and jeans, replacing a butterfly bandage on my right eye. Feeling fine and somewhat dandy, I walked down my steps onto Marlborough and spotted Frank Belson leaning against a black unmarked unit. The rear door was wide open. Belson absently puffed on a cigar and waved me inside.
“And if I refuse?”
“You won’t get to meet the new boss,” Frank said. “And I’d really hate to miss that.”
I shook my head and crawled into the backseat. Belson slammed the door, put out his cigar, and got behind the wheel. We drove off in the opposite direction of the Public Garden before he took Berkeley over to Storrow. It was past rush hour and the road had yet to become clogged. Belson followed theEsplanade as a middle-aged woman in the passenger seat turned around to me and said, “Just what the fuck do you think you’re doing, getting into a wrestling match at the farmers’ market?”
“Tea Party Museum was too far of a walk.”
“You can’t pull crap like that anymore,” she said. “Tourists took video of you with their cell phones. You’re gonna be very popular on YouTube.”
“Spenser, this is Captain
with us five years ago and we wouldn’t have him.
The way he rides around in that red Chevy, misrepresenting
himself as a real-life jake. I mean, come on. He’s
like a crazy uncle I once had who thought he
was Napoleon. Wore military outfits and the whole deal before
they sent him off to Bridgewater.”
“Don’t worry about me.”
“He’s got the crazy eyes, Kevin,” he said. “I’ve seen it. And that fucking guy Ray. I know he’s a cop, but the department up there has no use for him. They been wanting to shit-can him for four years. He knows he doesn’t have much time. It just pains me, seeing you sitting there with those two. Bad news.”
“Okay.” Kevin got up to leave. “Thanks.”
Featherstone held up a hand. “Wait,” he said. “There’s more. I want to ask you something.”
Kevin waited.
“Has either one of those two talked to you about all these fires?”
Kevin took a breath. He started to sweat. But kept it cool, breaking off a piece of donut and shrugging. “Not really. Why?”
“Something happened the other night,” Featherstone said. “At that triple-decker fire. Something that got me thinking.”
Kevin studied the man’s face and the ink-black hair sticking out from the side of his head. “I don’t know,” Featherstone said. “As soon as that fire started, there was another one. On Dot Ave. At an old warehouse. You know?”
“I heard something about it.”
“Two set off back to back,” Featherstone said. “Just got me thinking, is all.”
“Thinking about what?”
Featherstone leaned back in the booth. He shrugged and rubbed the top of his bald head before leaning in and saying, “I saw Johnny’s red car at that warehouse the night before. I didn’t think much of it. Isn’t he in security or some shit?”
“Yeah,” Kevin said. “He’s got a lot of contracts to watch old buildings. It’s what he does.”
“Just doesn’t set right with me, is all,” Featherstone said. “Him being crazy and then seeing his car. I just wanted to warn you before I tip the boys.”
“The boys?”
“Arson,” Featherstone said. “They should talk to him. Even if he didn’t have nothing to do with it, he’d know something about the building.”
Kevin felt his breath catch in his throat. He stopped chewing his donut.
“Just stay clear, buddy boy,” Featherstone said, sliding out. “Don’t get the shit splattered on you.”
Kevin nodded and smiled. Featherstone left the pastry shop, a low buzzing of fluorescent lights overhead. He looked to the cash register to make sure the woman working there was in back. He picked up the phone and called Johnny Donovan. It was nearly two a.m.
He picked up on the first ring.
“What?”
“We got some trouble.”
25
T he cops came for me the next morning. Thankfully, I’d just changed into a fresh T-shirt and jeans, replacing a butterfly bandage on my right eye. Feeling fine and somewhat dandy, I walked down my steps onto Marlborough and spotted Frank Belson leaning against a black unmarked unit. The rear door was wide open. Belson absently puffed on a cigar and waved me inside.
“And if I refuse?”
“You won’t get to meet the new boss,” Frank said. “And I’d really hate to miss that.”
I shook my head and crawled into the backseat. Belson slammed the door, put out his cigar, and got behind the wheel. We drove off in the opposite direction of the Public Garden before he took Berkeley over to Storrow. It was past rush hour and the road had yet to become clogged. Belson followed theEsplanade as a middle-aged woman in the passenger seat turned around to me and said, “Just what the fuck do you think you’re doing, getting into a wrestling match at the farmers’ market?”
“Tea Party Museum was too far of a walk.”
“You can’t pull crap like that anymore,” she said. “Tourists took video of you with their cell phones. You’re gonna be very popular on YouTube.”
“Spenser, this is Captain
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