Free Hundred Dollar Baby by Robert B. Parker Page A

damage usually surfaces.
    "There's nothing so bad I can't hear it," I said.
    She nodded.
    "There's nothing so bad I won't help you with it," I said.
    She kept nodding.
    I stood.
    "Okay, Toots," I said. "No lectures. If you find that you need me again, you know where I am."
    "Yes," she said.
    I went to where she sat and bent over and kissed her. She stiffened slightly. I stepped back and pretended to shoot her with my forefinger, and turned and left.

 
26
     
    Hawk drove Tedy Sapp to the airport. I went, too. Now that I was off the case, I had nothing else to do. And it gave me a chance to see if the tunnel was leaking today.
    "April didn't like you," Hawk said to Tedy Sapp.
    "No," Sapp said. "She didn't."
    "I'm not sure she liked any of us."
    "Worse with Tedy," Hawk said. "He being gay and all."
    "Lot of women like gay men," Sapp said. "They can talk about things comfortably... "
    "Like pottery," Hawk said. "Hair tint."
    Sapp ignored him.
    "Without any sexual tension, so to speak. And, as we all know, gay men are urbane, witty, sophisticated, and unusually charming."
    "Some of Ollie's people," I said, "can testify to that."
    "But. . ." Hawk said.
    Sapp nodded.
    "But there are some women who are uncomfortable with us precisely because there's no sexual tension," Sapp said. "They can't use sex to control us. Flirting with us isn't effective."
    "That's true of a lot of straight men, too," I said.
    "Sure," Sapp said. "Probably true of you."
    "Might want to ask Susan 'bout that," Hawk said.
    "That's love," I said.
    "Um," Hawk said.
    "But even though that's true," Sapp said, "a woman like April can create a sexual tone to her male relationships that she can't do with a ho-mo-sex-u-al."
    "Sex is the only thing that ever worked for her," I said.
    "And that sure worked out good," Hawk said.
    "She knows that guy in New York," Sapp said. "Doesn't she."
    I nodded.
    "You gonna let it slide?" Sapp said.
    Hawk laughed.
    "You done a couple riffs with him," Hawk said. "What you think he gonna do?"
    "I think he's going to chew on this," Sapp said, "like a beaver on a tree."
    "You going to New York?" Hawk said.
    "I am," I said.
    "Gonna talk with Farnsworth?" he said.
    "Seems like a good idea," I said.
    "Then what?" Hawk said.
    "Depends on what he says."
    "How 'bout he says for you to go fuck yourself," Sapp said.
    "Why should he be different?" I said.
    "Spenser don't like Farnsworth the way he like April," Hawk said.
    "So you might be more forceful," Sapp said.
    "We have our ways," I said.
    "Anybody paying you?" Sapp said.
    "I'm getting twice what you're getting," I said.
    "I'm getting zip," Sapp said.
    "And worth every penny," I said.
    Hawk pulled into the curb in front of the Delta terminal.
    "Least Robin Hood stole it," he said, "'fore he gave it away."
    "And," Sapp said, "he had all those merry men."

" id="calibre_pb_54"> 27
     
    I used a different technique with Lionel Farnsworth this time. The lawyer-with-money trick probably wouldn't play twice, with either him or the doorman. So I began to hang out near his building on a bright, crisp New York day. In the late afternoon of the first day, he came out of his building wearing a belted double-breasted camel-hair overcoat and turned right on Central Park West, toward Columbus Circle. I fell in beside him.
    "Nothing like a brisk stroll," I said.
    "Huh?"
    He looked at me and did a little repressed double take.
    "You," he said.
    "Me."
    "Ah ... the, ah, lawyer guy, right?"
    "Sort of," I said.
    "Sort of?"
    "I lied to you."
    He stopped.
    "You lied?"
    "I did," I said. "I'm a detective."
    "A detective."
    "Exactly," I said.
    We began to walk again.
    "New York City police?" he said.
    "I'm from Boston," I said.
    He looked at me and started to speak and decided not to. His pace had picked up a little. I stayed with him.
    "Ollie DeMars spilled the beans," I said.
    "Ollie DeMars?"
    "Yep."
    "I don't believe I know him."
    "You do," I said. "You were in Allenwood with him. Six months ago you called him and