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Authors: Robert B. Parker

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BOOK: Small Vices
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Chapter
17

A DARK-HAIRED WOMAN named Elayna Hurley, who was a single mother and had been in graduate school with Susan, came over to Susan's house on a Sunday afternoon while I was watching football and Susan was reading a book by Frederick Crews debunking her profession. Elayna brought her nine-year-old daughter with her. The daughter's name was Erika.

Pearl had chosen football over Frederick Crews and was sprawled on the couch beside me. I was warmed by her affection, but, in fact, had planned to sprawl on the couch myself. When they came in, Pearl sat bolt upright and eyed Erika the way a robin eyes a worm. Susan took their coats and took them into the bedroom and laid them on the bed. Erika came straight over and stood in front of me and put her hands on her hips like Shirley Temple.

She wore a maroon velvet Laura Ashley dress with a little lace collar. She had much too much blond curly hair, and she was kind of chunky. Susan returned from the bedroom.

"Who are you?" Erika said to me. I told her.

"How come you let your dog sit on the couch?"

"She likes it on the couch," I said.

Pearl looked at Erika balefully. Erika leaned very close to Pearl and blew in her face. Pearl shook her head. The hair on her back rose, and I quickly put a hand on her collar. Erika laughed loudly.

"Erika, honey," Elayna said. "Don't bother the dog."

"I want a dog," she said.

"I know, honey, but you know Mommy's allergic."

"You always say that."

"Well," Elayna smiled lovingly, "it's always true. Come over here and sit by me and maybe Susan can find us some cookies."

Erika flounced back over to the couch and sat beside her mother and stared at Pearl.

"What kind of cookies?" she said.

"Actually," Susan said, "you know the kind of homemaker I am. There aren't any cookies."

"Oh, that's fine," Elayna said. "Erika doesn't really need one."

"I want a cookie," Erika said. "You said I could have one."

"Well, I guess I was wrong, Erika."

"You said."

"I have some V8 juice," Susan said with a smile that would have beguiled Jesse Helms.

"I hate V8 juice," Erika said.

"Some mango yogurt?" Susan said.

"I want some cookies. My mother said I could have some cookies."

Beside me Pearl was still sitting upright. The hair was still up on her back. She growled very low, almost to herself. I draped my left arm over her shoulders and patted her.

"You got that right," I said to Pearl.

Susan flashed a glance at me almost too quick to be registered. I smiled at her.

"Would you like to watch TV in Susan's bedroom?" Elayna said.

"How come I can't watch out here?"

"Well, this is where the grown-ups will be, sweetheart, and we want to talk without TV."

"He's watching TV," Erika said.

I picked up the clicker and turned off the set.

Elayna said, "Come on into Susan's bedroom, Erika, and watch TV I'll bet we can find a real good movie for you."

"Can that dog come in and watch with me?"

"No," I said.

Again Susan gave me the glance.

"Come on, Erika," Susan said. "We'll go in and find you a movie."

"Why can't that dog come?" Erika said.

"She's not really used to children," Susan said.

"Does he bite?" Erika said.

"No, no. She's just not used to children," Susan said.

"Mom, is he going to bite me?"

"No, of course not, she's a very nice dog. Come on, we'll go into Susan's bedroom and turn on the TV."

Susan and Elayna and Erika all headed for the bedroom.

"He looks like he wants to bite me," Erika said.

"She," I said.

"Bad dog," Erika said and stomped into Susan's bedroom.

They spent awhile finding a dandy TV program for Erika to watch. My guess was that their efforts would not be worth the result. When they were gone, Pearl settled back down into her sprawl, but she kept an eye on the bedroom. Finally they came out and half closed the bedroom door.

"Don't close the door," Erika said from the bedroom.

"No, Erika. We won't," her mother said. "We'll leave it just like this."

"You know I don't like the door closed."

"I know, Erika."

"Can I get you some wine or something?" Susan said.

"A little white wine would be nice," Elayna said.

Susan went to get it.

"How's the game?" Elayna said to me.

"Patriots are getting hosed," I said.

"Oh."

"Poor Erika, she loves animals. She wants a dog so bad and I can't have one in the house."

"You're allergic?" I said.

"Can't be in the same room with one. My eyes water and itch. I begin to sneeze. My throat closes up. It's hideous."

I glanced at Pearl. Susan came back in with a bottle of white, and a bottle of red, three glasses, and a corkscrew. She set it all down on the table in front of me.

"Man's work," she said.

I opened the wine. Susan had red. Elayna had white. I declined.

"Well, isn't she a princess," Susan said.

"Erika?" Elayna said. "I suppose every parent thinks her kid is special, but she really is a darling."

"Where she get all that blond hair?" Susan said. "Her father?"

"I guess so," Elayna said. "I didn't really know him, it was all arranged by the clinic."

"Of course," Susan said. "It must be hard raising a child alone."

"Yes. It's exhausting and demanding, but very rewarding. I'm very pleased that I chose to have her."

Elayna was tall and graceful and her hair was too long for her age. There was a dramatic streak of white in the front, and hints of gray showing here and there as the sunlight through the back window caught it. She was much too advanced to color her hair.

"Do you have help?" Susan said.

"Yes, my mother and my sister live around here. So I almost always have a baby-sitter. Today it happened they were both out and I had to bring her. I hope you don't mind."

"Oh, no," Susan said. "I love seeing her."

"The first year or so she pretty well killed my sex life, she was so demanding and I was so tired, I didn't have the energy, you know?"

"I can imagine," Susan said.

"But once she got off the breast, then I could leave her with my mom or my sister… and I was back in circulation."

She looked at me.

"You got any single straight friends?"

I shook my head. That description fit Hawk, but he and Elayna didn't seem a match. The thought of him with Erika, however, made me smile.

"See, there, you're smiling," Elayna said, "you've just thought of someone."

"No," I said. "It's just inner peace showing through."

Erika came out of the bedroom, shuffling in a pair of Susan's high-heeled shoes, and wearing Susan's black silk robe. The girth wasn't bad because Erika was a chunky girl and Susan was a slim woman, so they measured pretty much the same around. But since Erika was about three feet tall, and Susan was five foot seven, the length was an issue. She kept stepping on the train and from the sound it made, she kept tearing it. She had also found Susan's makeup and applied it to herself lavishly, if somewhat artlessly.

"Erika," her mother said. Her voice hovered on the periphery of a shriek.

Erika kept coming, trying to flounce, stumbling on the high heels, continuing to step on the trailing fabric of Susan's black silk robe, which continued to rip. I had given her that dressing gown last Christmas and it had cost me far more than I generally earned. I looked at Susan. She looked as if she had just swallowed an armadillo.

I said, "Oh boy oh boy," very softly to Pearl, who was sitting straight up again, and flexed for attack.

Elayna jumped up and grabbed Erika and swept her into the air.

"Erika, my God, Erika," she kept saying as she scooted her back into the bedroom. In a moment we could hear Erika howling.

Between howls she kept saying, "I want to wear it, I want to wear it."

I smiled pleasantly at Susan. "Well, isn't she a princess," I said.

"Shut up."

I turned to Pearl and put my mouth close to her ear and did a stage whisper.

"Maybe we could get one just like her if we adopt wisely."

Pearl paid me no heed. Her every desire was focused on dashing into the bedroom and biting Erika. I kept a hand on her collar, to forestall that, though I was embarrassingly eager for it to happen. Susan looked at me very hard.

"I heard that," she said. "And even if I didn't, I know what you're thinking. I knew it from the moment they walked in."

"I'm in the evidence business," I said. "When I see some, I register it."

"You can't generalize from one instance," Susan said.

"No, of course not. But you can register the instance."

I felt Pearl start to tremble slightly. Elayna walked back into the room bringing Erika with her with a firm clamp on her wrist. Erika tugged intensely to get her wrist free. But Elayna was too strong for her. The kid was wearing her own clothes again, and the makeup had been scrubbed off. She was crying determinedly.

"Tell Susan you're sorry, Erika." Erika kept crying. And tugging. "Erika, apologize."

Erika cried. And tugged.

"No need," Susan said. "Really. I've had that gown forever. It was just something to wear around the house."

She was careful not to look at me while she said it. I was quiet, holding Pearl's collar. I did not comment that the robe was pure silk and was meant to be worn in front of a fire while sipping champagne.

"I insist on buying you a new one."

"Oh, hell, Elayna, there's no need for it. It doesn't matter, really. I have plenty of robes."

She had one other one that I knew of, a yellow thing with cats and dogs printed all over it in various colors. I had seen it in her closet, but she only wore it when I wasn't around, along with the flannel pajama bottoms and the oversized tee-shirt.

"No, I absolutely insist," Elayna said. "What size?"

"No," Susan said. "Elayna, really. It's nothing. Don't be silly."

"Size six," I said. "If it's well made. If you buy her a cheap one, where they chintzed on the material, it might have to be an eight."

Erika continued to cry steadily. Elayna and Susan both stared at me. Erika tried to bite her mother's hand to get her wrist free. Elayna swept her up off the ground and held her kicking and struggling and crying and said loudly, "I've got to get her out of here. Susan, I'll call you.

When they were gone, Susan went and stood looking out the living room window for a while. Finally she turned and looked at me.

"Should I have let Pearl go?" I said.

"Do you think she'd really have bitten her?"

"With proper coaching," I said.

"God, wasn't she awful."

"Awful," I said.

"My beautiful silk robe," Susan said.

"Now I guess you'll have to sit around naked and drink champagne," I said.

Susan smiled at me, almost sadly.

"There's always a silver lining," she said. "Isn't there."

Chapter
18

PEMBERTON DID NOT wish to acknowledge crime. The Pemberton Police Station had been moved as far from the center of town as it was possible to move it. It was barely within the town limits, on the edge of Route 128 in an old brick Department of Public Works building they had leased from the state. I parked in the spacious lot out front.

Inside they were still partitioning off some of the rooms, and the carpenters were making a lot of noise. I worked my way past the front desk officer to the detective who'd worked the Henderson case, and sat with him at a desk in a half-finished office, while the sound of power saws and pneumatic nailers competed for attention. He looked about twenty, though he was probably older. You saw a lot of cops like him on suburban forces.

High-school football player. Not good enough for a scholarship. Smart kid. No money for college. Did a stint in the Marines, maybe, came home, went on the cops. Probably got term of service credit.

"Name's Albrano," he said. "Evidence specialist. I don't know how much I can help you. We turned things over to the State as soon as we discerned that it was a homicide. We're not set up to cover a major crime like they are, sir."

"Miller?" I said.

"Yes, sir."

"You the one got the letter?"

"Letter?"

"The letter tipped you off that it was Alves."

"Well, we got it here at the department," he said. "Didn't come to me personally."

"But you read it."

"Yes, sir, and checked it for prints. Nothing we could use."

"And you bucked it on to Miller?"

"Yes, sir. He made it pretty clear he was in charge of the case."

"I'll bet he did," I said. "Who notified him?"

"I guess I did, sir."

"You remember just how you notified him?"

"How?"

"Yeah. Did you show it to him here? Did you bring it over to him? Call him up? How'd you notify him?"

"I believe I mentioned it to him on the phone and then somebody took it in to Boston and gave it to him."

"When you told him on the phone," I said, "did he call you or you call him?"

"Hell, I don't remember. This was what, year and a half ago? What's the difference?"

"Got me," I said. "You know how it goes, just keep asking questions till you find something. What did you think of Miller?"

"He has a good arrest conviction record, sir. I know that."

"Because he told you?"

Albrano's expression of professional cooperation didn't change.

"I believe that is where I heard that, sir."

I nodded.

"The victim had a boyfriend," I said. "You happen to come across him?"

"Didn't know she had one," Albrano said. "You actually think whatsis name, Alves, is innocent?"

"It's a working hypothesis," I said.

"Be a pretty elaborate frame-up," Albrano said.

"Yeah."

"But if it was a frame-up," he said, "it was a smart move picking a loser like this Alves character."

"Jury'd figure even if he didn't do it," I said, "he did something."

Albrano shrugged.

"I don't know shit about juries," he said. "But it makes him a good-looking suspect. Arrest a guy for drunk driving that's done it three times before, you gotta like your chances."

I didn't say anything. The pneumatic nailer was banging away across the half-finished room. A uniformed Pemberton cop stuck his head through the incomplete doorway.

"Making a run, Charlie," he said. "Want anything?"

"Large black, no sugar, and couple of Boston creams." He looked at me. "You want something?"

I shook my head. The uniform left. We sat thoughtfully for a little longer.

"You know," Albrano said, "now that you asked and I'm thinking about it, Trooper Miller called me and asked if we'd come up with anything on the murder of the college girl."

I nodded.

"So I told him about the anonymous letter and he said send it in to me."

I nodded again.

"I don't see that it means anything," Albrano said. "Do you?"

"Might mean he was impatient," I said.

BOOK: Small Vices
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