Free Pale Kings and Princes by Robert B. Parker Page A

work out of Essex County DA's office. Now he's in at 1010 Commonwealth, I think."
    "Homicide commander," the trooper said. "What are you doing out here?" J.D. had drifted fast away when the trooper spotted me.
    "Central Argus hired me to come out and see about what happened to one of their reporters," I said.
    The trooper nodded. "Valdez. Yeah, I looked in on that too. It's either coke or a jealous husband, or both. We turned up shit on it."
    "That's what everyone else has turned up," I said. "Think this is connected?"
    The trooper shrugged. "Town like Wheaton? Goes forty years without a killing then there's two murders in a month? Tough coincidence."
    "That's what I thought," I said.
    "Got any thoughts," the trooper said.
    "No," I said. "Not yet."
    The trooper nodded. He took a card from his uniform shirt pocket and gave it to me. "You come across anything give me a call," he said. "Where you staying?"
    "Reservoir Court Motel."
    "Got a card?" he said. I gave him one. The trooper grinned. "Enjoy," he said, and walked on toward the cruiser.
    Just a big friendly kid in a spiffy uniform. Now he'd get in the cruiser and call in and see what they had on me. And they'd get hold of Healy and see what he could tell them. It had taken him maybe ten seconds to spot me when I showed up. If he hadn't turned up anything on the Valdez killing, it meant that there wasn't much to turn up. Or it was buried deeper than he'd had time to dig.
    I walked along the edge of the police line. The EMT's had backed away from the Olds and a police photographer was taking flash pictures.
    Caroline Rogers looked up and saw me. She said something to the captain. He looked at me and shook his head. She dipped her head slightly and stepped away from him and walked toward me. The skin on her face looked tight, but her voice was quiet when she said, "Mr. Spenser."
    "Your husband," I said. She nodded gravely. "I'm sorry," I said.
    She nodded again. "They've killed him," she said softly.
    I waited.
    She didn't say anything else. "Can I help you?" I said.
    She looked at me steadily, her eyes wide and nearly all pupil. Her breathing was quiet. The skin seemed to tighten still more over the bones of her face as I looked at her.
    "Maybe," she said. "Maybe you can."
    "I'm at the Reservoir Court Motel," I said.
    "I know," she said.
    The state trooper was still sitting in the cruiser talking on the radio. Henry the police captain had walked over and stood outside the car, leaning on the roof with his arms folded, waiting for the trooper to get through.
    The photographer got through and the EMT's started to bundle the corpse out of the front seat and into a body bag. I put my hands on Caroline Rogers's shoulders and turned her toward me.
    "I can look," she said.
    "I'm sure you can," I said, "but there are probably better ways to remember him."
    She shook her head. "I'll remember it all," she said. "I wish to."
    I took my hands off her shoulders and she turned and watched as they zipped her husband up in the bag and put him on the trundle and wheeled him to the ambulance. The legs folded, the trundle slid on into the bed of the ambulance. They closed the two doors, walked around to the driver's compartment, got in and drove away. The emergency light on the roof was flashing, but they didn't use the siren. Bailey was in no rush.
    Caroline watched it pull away. When it rounded the curve and disappeared, she turned back to me and her eyes looked vacant. She seemed aimless, as if now that the event was over there was no place to go and nothing to do.
    "The children?" I said.
    "There's only Brett," she said. "He's away. He doesn't know yet." She seemed to be looking for something to do with her hands. "They never got along," she said. She clasped her hands in front of her. "Bailey demanded so much of Brett."
    A neat dark-haired woman in a pleated plaid skirt stepped close to us on the other side of the police line.
    "Caroline," she said, "come to the house with us."
    Caroline