Free Playmates by Robert B. Parker Page A

toward me.
    "Dwayne's shaving points," Dixie said. "Maybe Danny Davis, too."
    I nodded.
    "You see what you want to see, I guess," Dixie said. "You say he can't read."
    I nodded.
    "Shit," Dixie said.
    I leaned on the wall some more. Dixie sat. The sound of basketballs bouncing had stopped.
    "What we going to do?" Dixie said. "East regionals start next Saturday."
    "I don't know for sure what we're going to do," I said. "But I've got some goals. One, the kid's involved with New York wiseguys and I want to get him unhooked from them. Two, I want to be able to preserve his future. Three, I want him to learn to read."
    "If we turn him in, his future is zero," Dixie said. "Pros won't touch him."
    "I know," I said.
    "Means you're going to cover up for him?"
    "Yeah, I guess it does," I said. "How about you?"
    Dixie shook his head. "He's the best player I ever had. Better than Troy, even." Dixie jerked his head toward the picture on the wall.
    I waited.
    "People can't trust the score, any game goes to hell," he said.
    I shifted shoulders against the wall.
    "I don't know," Dixie said. "I don't know what to do,"
    "Let's take it a step at a time," I said. "Let's talk with the kid. If he'll admit it, then we can move on the guys who rigged him to do it."
    "What if he denies it?" Dixie said.
    "You tell him you looked at the tapes, you know he did it. If he still won't admit anything, you sit him down."
    "Sit him down?" Dixie said the words very slowly, with space between them.
    "Yeah."
    "For how long?"
    "Until he tells us what's going on. Until he names names."
    "Jesus Christ," Dixie said. "I got the East regionals next week. We get through those I got the tourney at Salt Lake. In about three weeks I could be playing for the national championship."
    "I didn't say my plan was fun," I said.
    "Fun, my God. Can't we use the tapes for proof?"
    "Probably not in court, but even so, we don't want to go to court. And if we did, what have we got? The fact that Dwayne, maybe Danny Davis, is shaving points. We don't have for whom. And for whom is what we need if we're going to pull this off without screwing the kid."
    "So what are you going to do if he does tell you?" Dixie said, "You say you don't want to ruin the kid, so you can't go to the cops."
    "Dixie," I said, "you got to understand this kind of work. I don't have a game plan. I sort of feel my way along. When I run into something I don't know, I try to find out. When I find out enough, then maybe there's a way to figure out what to do. And maybe there isn't. You can't know until you find out what there is to find out."
    Dixie rocked slowly in his swivel chair. His hands were folded across his stomach, and he seemed to be studying his thumbnails. Finally, without looking up, Dixie said, "I'll talk with Dwayne."
    I said, "You want me around?"
    "No."
    "Okay," I said. "Let me know."
    "Yeah, I will."
    I picked up my gym bag and started out the door.
    "Spenser," Dixie said.
    I stopped and turned my head.
    "I didn't know he couldn't read," Dixie said.
    "Makes you wonder how he maintained a two point three average, doesn't it," I said.
    "Maybe we ought to find that out too," Dixie said.
    "We will," I said.

18
    TUESDAY morning, Hawk and I went to see Gerry Broz. Gerry was a second generation thug, been to college, graduated into the old man's business. He spent every morning in a coffee shop near Oak Square in Brighton. He'd have breakfast, read the paper, drink some coffee, make a few phone calls, receive a few visitors. Joe still ran things, but Gerry was the crown prince.
    "Joe's garbage," Hawk said as we were walking across Washington Street toward the B&D Coffee Shop. "And Gerry's nowhere near the man Joe is."
    "I know," I said. "Cops will be glad when Gerry takes over. They figure the organization will turn into pot shards in about a year."
    "Pot shards," Hawk said.
    We opened the door to the coffee shop and went in. The air was steamy with the scent of coffee and bacon and cigarette smoke. There