Hawk said, “Bradshaw.”
“You were listening.”
“Sort of,” Hawk said. “Babe in the black dress might be a security risk.”
“You think we should frisk her?”
“We? I was thinking I frisk her while you fight the boyfriend.”
I looked down the bar. The woman in the black dress was sitting with an outsized young man jammed into an expensive suit, who looked, by himself, like an offensive line.
“Good deal for me,” I said.
“I could fight the boyfriend and you could frisk her,” Hawk said. “But what’s she get out of that?”
“Her loss,” I said.
Hawk nodded.
“What you gonna do ’bout Bradshaw?” he said.
“I think I’ll look into him,” I said.
“’Stead of fighting the boyfriend?”
“Yeah.”
Hawk shook his head sadly.
“All work and no play . . .” he said.
30
We were walking up the mall in the center of Commonwealth Ave toward Kenmore.
“You see them?” Hawk said.
“Black Caddie?” I said. “Double-parked just past Dartmouth Street. Outbound side?”
“And?” Hawk said.
“Gray Ford double-parked just this side of Exeter, in-bound side?”
“Whaddya think,” Hawk said.
“Could be nothing,” I said.
“Or it could be something,” Hawk said.
“We probably need to decide,” I said, “before we get between them.”
“Be my guess,” Hawk said.
The cross streets were alphabetical: Arlington, Berkeley, and so on. We were at the corner of Clarendon.
“If they don’t plan to shoot us, we look foolish taking evasive action.”
“True,” Hawk said.
“But,” I said. “Say they do want to shoot us.”
“We don’t want to encourage that,” Hawk said.
“You know my motto,” I said. “Better to take needless evasive action, at the risk of looking foolish, than not to, and look dead.”
“That your motto?”
“I’m having it printed on my business cards,” I said.
“We can turn the wrong way onto Dartmouth, and probably shake them in the alleys,” Hawk said.
“But then we won’t know who they were,” I said. “Or if they were anybody.”
“If they anybody, we know where they come from,” Hawk said.
We had stopped walking and sat on a bench in the mall like a couple of tourists resting their feet. Neither of the cars moved.
“If they’re Rugar,” I said. “They won’t care about you. They’ll be after me.”
“You right,” Hawk said. “Maybe I just mosey on home.”
“Maybe you just mosey on up Clarendon to the alley, and you run lickety-split up the alley and back down Exeter.”
“Lickety-split,” Hawk said.
“And I’ll stroll languidly along toward Dartmouth, and if we time it right . . .”
“We’ll time it right,” Hawk said.
I nodded.
“We can end up with you behind the Exeter Street guys on that side. And I’m behind the Dartmouth Street guys on this side.”
“They expecting to catch us between them,” Hawk said, “and we catching them between us.”
“Rugar won’t be one of them,” I said. “Even if he sent them.”
“Why not?”
“He would do it alone,” I said.
Hawk nodded.
“One question,” Hawk said. “We get them surrounded, then what?”
“Then we’ll see,” I said.
“You just a planning fool,” Hawk said.
31
We crossed Clarendon Street and paused, as if we were looking at the kids playing in the small park. Then for the benefit of the guys in the cars, Hawk shook hands with me. He turned up Clarendon toward Newbury Street. I gave him a little wave. As he passed the public alley halfway to Newbury, out of sight from either car, he turned down. I turned right and left the mall to walk along the sidewalk, past the little park, on the river side of Commonwealth. I tilted my head as if I were listening, and then took out my cell phone and stopped and flipped it open and pretended to answer it.
“‘’Twas brillig,’” I said into the dead phone, “‘And the slithy toves . . .’” I nodded. “‘Did gyre and gimble in the wabe . . .’” I nodded again
“You were listening.”
“Sort of,” Hawk said. “Babe in the black dress might be a security risk.”
“You think we should frisk her?”
“We? I was thinking I frisk her while you fight the boyfriend.”
I looked down the bar. The woman in the black dress was sitting with an outsized young man jammed into an expensive suit, who looked, by himself, like an offensive line.
“Good deal for me,” I said.
“I could fight the boyfriend and you could frisk her,” Hawk said. “But what’s she get out of that?”
“Her loss,” I said.
Hawk nodded.
“What you gonna do ’bout Bradshaw?” he said.
“I think I’ll look into him,” I said.
“’Stead of fighting the boyfriend?”
“Yeah.”
Hawk shook his head sadly.
“All work and no play . . .” he said.
30
We were walking up the mall in the center of Commonwealth Ave toward Kenmore.
“You see them?” Hawk said.
“Black Caddie?” I said. “Double-parked just past Dartmouth Street. Outbound side?”
“And?” Hawk said.
“Gray Ford double-parked just this side of Exeter, in-bound side?”
“Whaddya think,” Hawk said.
“Could be nothing,” I said.
“Or it could be something,” Hawk said.
“We probably need to decide,” I said, “before we get between them.”
“Be my guess,” Hawk said.
The cross streets were alphabetical: Arlington, Berkeley, and so on. We were at the corner of Clarendon.
“If they don’t plan to shoot us, we look foolish taking evasive action.”
“True,” Hawk said.
“But,” I said. “Say they do want to shoot us.”
“We don’t want to encourage that,” Hawk said.
“You know my motto,” I said. “Better to take needless evasive action, at the risk of looking foolish, than not to, and look dead.”
“That your motto?”
“I’m having it printed on my business cards,” I said.
“We can turn the wrong way onto Dartmouth, and probably shake them in the alleys,” Hawk said.
“But then we won’t know who they were,” I said. “Or if they were anybody.”
“If they anybody, we know where they come from,” Hawk said.
We had stopped walking and sat on a bench in the mall like a couple of tourists resting their feet. Neither of the cars moved.
“If they’re Rugar,” I said. “They won’t care about you. They’ll be after me.”
“You right,” Hawk said. “Maybe I just mosey on home.”
“Maybe you just mosey on up Clarendon to the alley, and you run lickety-split up the alley and back down Exeter.”
“Lickety-split,” Hawk said.
“And I’ll stroll languidly along toward Dartmouth, and if we time it right . . .”
“We’ll time it right,” Hawk said.
I nodded.
“We can end up with you behind the Exeter Street guys on that side. And I’m behind the Dartmouth Street guys on this side.”
“They expecting to catch us between them,” Hawk said, “and we catching them between us.”
“Rugar won’t be one of them,” I said. “Even if he sent them.”
“Why not?”
“He would do it alone,” I said.
Hawk nodded.
“One question,” Hawk said. “We get them surrounded, then what?”
“Then we’ll see,” I said.
“You just a planning fool,” Hawk said.
31
We crossed Clarendon Street and paused, as if we were looking at the kids playing in the small park. Then for the benefit of the guys in the cars, Hawk shook hands with me. He turned up Clarendon toward Newbury Street. I gave him a little wave. As he passed the public alley halfway to Newbury, out of sight from either car, he turned down. I turned right and left the mall to walk along the sidewalk, past the little park, on the river side of Commonwealth. I tilted my head as if I were listening, and then took out my cell phone and stopped and flipped it open and pretended to answer it.
“‘’Twas brillig,’” I said into the dead phone, “‘And the slithy toves . . .’” I nodded. “‘Did gyre and gimble in the wabe . . .’” I nodded again
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