Free The Professional by Robert B. Parker Page B

quiet?” I said.
    “Yeah, Zel, he said his name was. The one poured it on me was some kind of ex-pug. He had a funny name, too, but I’m a little hazy about some of the details.”
    “Boo,” I said.
    “Yeah,” Gary said. “Boo. He liked his work.”
    “So now what?” I said.
    “I took my beating, but I’m not going away.”
    “So you’ll see Beth again?”
    “Absolutely.”
    “You care that much about her?”
    “I like to fuck her,” Gary said.
    “She’s not your only option,” I said.
    “I told you before, I’m tougher than I seem,” Gary said. “I been punched around before. But I’ll fuck who I want to fuck, and no one tells me who that can be.”
    “My God,” I said, “a principled position.”
    “So I need a gun.”
    I shook my head.
    “Can’t give you a gun,” I said. “But maybe I can take Zel and Boo off your back.”
    “You?”
    “Yep.”
    “How you going to do that?” Gary said.
    “Sweet reason,” I said.
    “ ‘Sweet reason’?” Gary said. “You being funny?”
    “I hope so,” I said.
    “How quick can you do this?”
    “Pretty soon. In the meantime ask Beth to, ah, lay off, at least for a few days,” I said.
    “What are you going to do,” Gary said.
    “Talk to some people, arrange a few things, call in some favors,” I said.
    “Who you gonna talk to?” he said.
    “I have friends in low places,” I said. “Can you keep it in your pants for a few days while I save your life?”
    Gary nodded.
    “Why you doing this for me?” he said.
    “Damned if I know,” I said.

Chapter25

    BETH IS STILL SEEING EISENHOWER,” I said to Chet Jackson.
    He sat across his desk from me, looking as hard-polished and expensive as he had last time.
    “You think?” he said.
    “It’s why you sent Zel and Boo to see him,” I said.
    “They went to see him?” Chet said.
    The view through the picture window behind him was still marvelous, but I’d seen it before. It was what I’d always thought about paying for a view. After a day or two you don’t even notice it.
    “Boo beat him up,” I said.
    “What a shame,” Chet said.
    “I don’t want it to happen again,” I said.
    “And you think I’ve got something to do with it?”
    I said, “Let’s not screw around with this, Chet. I want you to call them off.”
    “And let that sonovabitch continue to bang my wife?” Chet said.
    “That’s a question to take up with the bangee,” I said. “Not the banger.”
    The lines around Chet’s mouth deepened. I could hear Susan’s voice in my brain: “Banger” and “bangee” are sexist distinctions, the voice said, implying aggression on the one side and passivity on the other.
    I know. I know. I can’t think of everything. Then I heard her laugh.
    “That’s probably true,” he said.
    “But?”
    “But I can’t,” he said.
    I nodded.
    “Because you love her,” I said.
    “Yes.”
    “Chet,” I said. “This is not between you and Gary Eisenhower. This is between you and your wife. The problem won’t be resolved by beating up Gary Eisenhower. It won’t be resolved if you kill him.”
    “There’d be someone else,” Chet said.
    “Uh-huh.”
    “I know that,” Chet said. “You think I don’t know that? Hell, I even had some counseling about that.”
    “Uh-huh.”
    We were quiet. I could feel his resistance slide into place like a shield between us.
    “I can’t let the sonovabitch get away with it,” Chet said.
    “Even though you might do the same thing,” I said.
    “In his shoes? Sure,” Chet said. “Might not get into blackmail, but the rest? Yeah, of course.”
    “So maybe you should back off with Boo,” I said.
    Chet shook his head.
    “I gotta do something,” he said.
    “Will it help you with Beth?” I said.
    He looked at me steadily for probably thirty seconds without speaking. Then he shook his head.
    “I gotta do something,” he said.
    “Even if it doesn’t take you where you want to go,” I said.
    “I’m a tough guy,” he said.