Robert B. Parker's Someone to Watch Over Me (Spenser #48)(7)

“We’ve met many of them.”

“Man need to be taught a lesson,” Hawk said. “You don’t mess with kids.”

“Agreed.”

“But Mattie won’t let you?” Hawk said.

“Mattie says I’m there only to assist,” I said. “And told me not to fuck it up.”

“Damn,” Hawk said. “Now she knows how I feel.”

“But if the club doesn’t deliver the goods,” I said. “I’ll do as I say.”

“You always deliver, babe,” Hawk said. He held out his mitt, and I met him with mine. “Many black folks members at the Blackstone Club?”

“Besides the help?” I said.

“Boston,” Hawk said.

We headed out of the boxing room Henry kept for us, the last sliver of the old gym he used to operate before going upscale. I walked over to an incline bench and added a couple plates to warm up. I cranked out a fast five and Hawk followed and then we began to slowly increase the weight on the next four sets. By the last set, we’d topped three-fifty.

“Not bad for a couple of old dudes,” Hawk said.

“Speak for yourself,” I said. “We’re not in the AARP yet.”

“I don’t get older,” Hawk said. “I youthen.”

“You and Merlin,” I said. I began to hum the first few chords of Camelot.

We continued over to the lat pulldown machine, and I watched as Hawk ran the key down to the lowest plate. He slid beneath the bar and cranked out twelve reps, slow and easy, holding the weight against his neck each time for a long count of three. He had complete control and mastery of the equipment. No wasted movement.

Henry Cimoli wandered out from his office, watched us train for a moment, and then shook his head in disappointment.

“That all you got to say, Henry?” Hawk said.

Henry tossed his hand up over his shoulder and walked back to his office.

“He loves us,” I said.

“’Course he do.”

I nodded and used my teeth to start unwrapping the tape from my knuckles. The front of my gray T-shirt was soaked.

“How’s Pearl?” Hawk said.

“Susan will only call her Puppy.”

“She’ll come around.”

“I’m still working on the house-training,” I said. “She’s pretty much only at my place. Susan claims the sounds of a yipping puppy might distract her patients.”

“That and puppies leave little presents around your house.”

“Lots of presents,” I said. “We’re working on crate training. And her sit and stay commands.”

“I like that little dog.”

“She fell asleep on your lap the whole drive back from New York.”

“How you feel if this Pearl prefers me to you?”

“Never will happen.”

“Don’t be so sure,” Hawk said.

We walked back to the locker room to shower and dress. I was headed to the office. Hawk was off to wherever Hawk goes.

Outside, he’d parked his silver Jaguar beside my Land Cruiser. Before he drove off, he looked at me from over the car. The rain beading down off his slick bald head.

“Man needs to be taught lesson,” he said.

“Won’t exactly be a paying gig.”

“This is for Mattie?” he said. “Right?”

I nodded.

“Then whatever she decides, count me in.”





6


AT FIVE MINUTES until ten, just as I finished Arlo & Janis, Mattie opened my office door and held it wide. A man in a black suit with a red tie entered the room. He was a smaller, fit-looking guy with lots of black hair, a prominent nose, and a toothy grin. He looked to me, stuck out his hand, and said, “You must be Spense.”

He had the face and manner of someone selling jewelry on late-night television. I disliked him immediately.

I closed the pages of my morning paper, folded my arms, and leaned back in my office chair. The rain fell pleasantly outside, making tapping sounds against my bay window. The man had a small black backpack slung across his shoulder. When I didn’t respond, he retracted his hand, set the backpack on the floor, and took a seat without being asked.

“My name is Greebel.”

“You look like a Greebel,” I said.

“What does that mean?”

“Do you have an appointment, Mr. Greebel?”

“I’m in the employ of a certain party who’s asked me to deliver a particular item.”

“Sorry,” I said. “Could you be any more circumspect?”

He motioned to the backpack. Mattie leaned against the doorframe.

“There you go,” he said. “And there is an envelope inside to make up for a truly unfortunate misunderstanding.”

“There was no misunderstanding,” Mattie said. “A man whipped it out in front of a freakin’ kid.”

Greebel continue to smile. His teeth were so big and white that I wondered if they were capped. So I asked.

“No,” Greebel said, the smile fading and his lips covering the chompers. “They’re my own teeth.”

“You must be the rock star at the dentist’s office,” I said.