Stardust by Robert B. Parker

me.”
    â€œWho thought that?” Belson said.
    â€œThere’s a man,” Jill said. “He’s been threatening me, saying terrible things. Now he’s done this. He thought Babe was me.”
    â€œWhat’s his name?” Belson said.
    â€œI don’t know. That’s what he’s supposed to find out.” Jill jerked her head at me. “Only he hasn’t found out anything, and now he’s tried to kill me.”
    â€œSpenser?”
    â€œNo, no. The man.”
    Sandy Salzman came into the office wearing a down parka and moon boots. He went straight to Jill Joyce.
    â€œJill, honey, are you okay?”
    â€œBetter than Babe Loftus,” I said.
    â€œOh my God, Babe,” Salzman said. “What happened?”
    â€œWe’re looking into that,” Belson said.
    â€œAre you the police?”
    â€œI’m one of them,” Belson said. He flipped out his shield. “Belson,” he said. “Homicide.”
    Salzman was holding Jill Joyce’s hand. She put her other hand over his and laid her head against his arm.
    â€œSandy, please, get me out of here,” Jill said.
    Salzman looked at Belson.
    Belson said, “Where’s she going to go?”
    â€œCharles Hotel,” Salzman said.
    â€œWe can locate that,” Belson said. “We may want to talk with her.”
    â€œI think we should have an attorney present,” Salzman said.
    â€œOf course,” Belson said. “Important person like her. Probably ought to have two or three present.”
    â€œNo need to be unpleasant,” Salzman said. “I just think with a star of Jill’s magnitude it’s prudent.”
    Belson looked at me and something that might have been amusement showed for a moment in his thin face.
    â€œThis one’s going to be a good time,” he said.
    â€œI’m taking Miss Joyce to the hotel,” Salzman said. “Feel free to use my office.”
    â€œYou want Cambridge to send somebody over to keep an eye out?” Belson said. “Now that there’s a homicide involved.”
    â€œYes,” Salzman said. “And the hotel security staff is alerted.”
    â€œFine,” Belson said. “I’ll want Spenser for an hour or so.”
    Salzman was already guiding Jill out of his office. She looked back at me.
    â€œYou’ll come, won’t you?” she said. “You’ll stay with me?”
    â€œI’ll be along,” I said.
    They left the room. Belson got up and closed the door behind them and walked across to the big picture window and stood looking out at the snow. His cigar had gone out some time ago, as it almost always did. He lit it with a kitchen match that he scratched on the windowsill. Outside the pleasant snow came steadily down. Belson turned from the window, folded his arms, leaned against the sill.
    â€œWhat do you think?” he said.
    â€œI don’t know,” I said. “I haven’t known since I got involved. I never more than half believed there was anyone harassing her.”
    â€œTell me about it,” Belson said.
    I did. When I was through Belson took the little cigar, now down to a stub, from his mouth and pursed his lips.
    â€œThis thing is going to be a hair ball.”
    I nodded.
    â€œM.E. show up yet?” I said.
    â€œNot while I was there. She looks to have been shot twice in the back with a big gun. Three fifty-seven maybe. Been dead awhile. No sign of a struggle. Nobody we’ve talked to so far has heard anything. Nobody so far knows why she would have been in here on a Sunday night.”
    â€œEven if she were, why would the murderer be here?” I said. “If he was after Jill he wouldn’t expect to find her here.”
    â€œMaybe he was after the victim, and maybe he came with her.”
    â€œOr brought her,” I said.
    Belson had the cigar back in his mouth. He rolled it directly into the center of his mouth and talked