"Everywhere That Mary Went" - читать интересную книгу автора (Scottoline Lisa)

12

“Wait a minute,” Tarrant says. “Did you report any of this?”

“No. If I did, you’d investigate.”

“That’s the point, isn’t it?”

“Well, what would an investigation involve?”

“We’d start with your statement. Then we’d interview anyone you suspect, any witnesses to the incidents with the car.”

“There aren’t any witnesses.”

He purses his lips. “Do you suspect anyone?”

“I think it’s someone at my firm.”

“I see. What did the note say exactly?”

“It said,Congratulations on your partnership.”

He laughs. I see my credibility fall off the table. “That’s all it said? Why do you call it a hate note?”

“It was sarcastic, because I-”

“No threats of bodily harm?”

“No.”

“A note like that, it could be from a friend of yours, a practical joke.”

“But the car doesn’t fit, does it?”

Tarrant shakes his head. “No. So come down and file a report. Bring the note. We’ll send it down to the Document Unit. They’ll test the paper, analyze the handwriting.”

“But I can’t file a report.”

“Why not?”

“I can’t have an investigation of the people at work right now. It’d look terrible. I’d lose my job.”

“Our hands are tied unless you do.”

“It’s out of the question.”

He shrugs. “Then my advice is to be cautious. Don’t go places alone. If you see the car again, call 911.”

“Okay.”

“And don’t be suspecting every little thing that happens to you, like today. I think you slipped up and forgot to lock the door.”

“I don’t know. It’s not like me.”

He nods, a final nod that tells me our conversation is over. “Listen to Uncle Dave. Nine times out of ten, it’s a gag. Or an old boyfriend. Some guy you jilted or didn’t have time for. They get over it.” He claps his hands together. “Now I got to see if my partner is still alive.”

“Maybe if I took him something to drink. Water, or a soda.”

“I don’t usually treat him that nice, but if you want to, it’s not a bad idea.”

“Good.” I head into the kitchen, where the light is already on, and look around briefly before getting a Coke. Nothing has been disturbed. My eyes flit automatically over to the magnetic knife rack. Four steak knives, all accounted for. Plus one lethal-looking chopping knife, Mike’s favorite when he played samurai chef. It all looks fine. Maybe I did leave the door open. Maybe I wasn’t thinking. I get the Coke and walk downstairs with Tarrant.

Outside, I’m surprised to see Marv still around, leaning on the squad car and talking to Officer Lewis. Lewis’s face is covered with hives and his eyes are swollen almost shut.

Tarrant breaks into laughter, staggering backward comically when he sees his partner. “Oh, man. You look good, Jimmy. What are you doin’ Friday night?”

“Come on, Dave. I gotta get to a drugstore before I croak.”

Tarrant is laughing too hard even to respond. I hand the Coke to Lewis. “I’m really sorry. Maybe this will help.”

He accepts the can miserably. “I can’t see it but I can tell it’s good.”

“Stay cool, Jim. It’s not a brew. It’s a diet Coke.”

“I know that,” he scoffs. “Thanks, ma’am.”

“Thank you for your help.”

They get into the car, with Tarrant driving, and pull away. I’m left standing there with Marv. Even though I’m tired, I’m in no hurry to go back upstairs.

“You musta left the door open,” Marv says. He’s taken off his pith helmet, and his hair is plastered against his head in a ring.

“I guess. Thanks for the use of the chair.”

“Listen, I stuck around ’cause I want to tell you something.” He leans over. “You gotta think about protectin’ yourself.”

“I can’t get a dog, Marv. I’m never home.”

He looks furtively around. “I’m not talking about a dog. I’m talking about this.” He looks down and so do I. In the middle of his calloused palm is a small black gun. It has an embossed black trident on its handle. It looks like a shiny new toy.

“Is that real?”

“It’s a Beretta.”

“Marv, what are you doing with that? Are you nuts?” I look around wildly. The guy with the Bianchi is gone from the window. So is the Bianchi.

“Shh. Shh. I’m tryin’ to tell you somethin’.”

“You can’t just carry that around in your pocket, for Christ’s sake. Is it loaded?”

“Can’t drill no holes if it ain’t.”

I step back. “Jesus, Marv, are you crazy? That’s a concealed weapon!”

“It’s legal. I got a permit.”

“That doesn’t mean you can carry it around! Did you have that when you were talking to the cop?”

He smiles slyly. “Right under his nose and he didn’t even know it. I’m telling you, Mary, you need one of these. You live by yourself. All you got for protection is that scrawny cat. Wise up.” He shoves the gun into my hand.

It terrifies me, just the feel of it. Light and deadly. “Take it back. Get it away from me.” I hand it to him, but he pushes it back at me. I feel panicky. “Marv, take it back! It’s gonna go off!”

He takes it back, with a chuckle. “Can’t go off. It’s got a safety.” He slips it into his pocket as if it were loose change.

“Marv, why do you have that thing?”

“You think you can run a cash business in this city without a gun? Besides, it’s my right. It says it in the United States Constitution. I have the right to bear arms.”

“Don’t tell me what the Constitution says. The Constitution is talking about the need for an army. It’s so the army can have the guns, Marv, not guys who sell plants. You’ll get yourself hurt with that thing.”

“Oh please.”

“You will. I read that. They’ll take it from you and use it against you.”

“You sure you don’t want to borrow it for just one night? If you need to shoot it, you just take the safety off and hold it with two hands, like onCharlie’s Angels. Like this.” He makes a Luger with his fingers.

“No, thanks.”

“Sure?”

“I couldn’t use it anyway. I couldn’t shoot anybody. Now I’m going to bed.”

“Yes, you could. If you had to. If somebody was trying to kill you, you sure as hell could.”

“See you, Marv.”

His thin voice calls after me. “Don’t kid yourself, Mary. You’d use it. Every one of us would. Don’t kid yourself.”

I leave him standing there in the yellow square of light spilling out from my window. A hustler with a toy-sized gun in the pocket of his chinos.