Free Sudden Mischief by Robert B. Parker Page A

caller was in there for maybe twenty minutes and then he came out Carla's front door, closed it carefully behind him, and walked briskly down her walk to where I was leaning. He was a guy used to handling things.
    "You're Spenser," he said.
    "Yes."
    "My name's Richard Gavin," he said. "What was it you wished to talk with Carla about."
    "Civil Streets."
    "Why."
    "Because the AG's office has her listed as the president."
    "Don't fuck around with me," Gavin said. "I meant, what did you wish to discuss?"
    "Tell me why that's your business," I said.
    "Because I've made it my business."
    "Good answer," I said.
    "Well?"
    "I'm looking into a matter tangential to the Galapalooza fund-raiser that Civil Streets participated in last year."
    "Yeah?"
    "Tangential?" I said.
    "What about tangential," Gavin said.
    "Aren't you even a little impressed with my use of the word?"
    Gavin sighed.
    "Okay," he said. "You think you're a funny guy. All your friends think you're a funny guy. Well, I don't think you're a funny guy, you got it? I don't think you're funny even a little bit."
    "I'll win you over," I said.
    He shook his head.
    "What do you want to know about Galapalooza?" he said.
    "Civil Streets get any money from it?"
    "I'm sorry, that's privileged information."
    "The hell it is," I said. "You're a public charity."
    "Well, let me be more specific," Gavin said. "That information is privileged to you."
    "Just because you don't think I'm funny?"
    "Sure," Gavin said. "That'll do."
    "This is dumb," I said. "You know and I know that I can find this out. All you do by refusing to tell me is get me wondering why you're refusing."
    "It would be in your best interest to leave this alone," Gavin said.
    "Because?"
    "The `because' could go two ways," Gavin said. " `Because you would get a nice bonus if you moved on,' is one way."
    "And what would the other way be?"
    "Because you could get killed if you don't."
    "Ahh," I said. "The old buzz word."
    "You're a small-time guy," Gavin said. "And you have put your foot in a big-time puddle. We don't mind. We like to do things easy, if we can. You can walk away from this with a nice piece of change. No problem. Just don't be foolish. Don't get yourself killed because you think you have to be macho man."
    "How much?" I said.
    "Five large," Gavin said.
    "That's a nice bribe," I said. "The trouble is that I am macho man."
    "You think you are," Gavin said. "We chew up macho men like M&M's."
    "Peanut or plain?"
    "Better you should take the money?"
    "The thing is, Richard, I hope you don't mind if I call you Richard. The thing is that my entire corporate inventory is a few brains and a lot of balls. I sell that inventory and I'm out of business… for five grand."
    "And your life," Gavin said.
    "Well, sure, that sweetens the pot a little," I said. "But a lot of people have promised to take my life."
    Gavin smiled, and put one arm across my shoulders.
    "Spenser, I like your style. I really do. But we're a little different maybe than other people you've talked to.
    "You going to do it?" I said.
    He laughed and took his arm away.
    "Well," I said, "it better be somebody better than the two clowns you sent the first time."
    Gavin looked puzzled.
    "Somebody talked to you already?"
    "Big tall fat guy," I said. "And a short thick guy, no neck."
    "Not ours," he said.
    Gavin had no reason to deny it. And his look of puzzlement had seemed real.
    I said, "You haven't seen Brad Sterling around, have you?"
    "Who?"
    "Just grasping at straws," I said.
    "Sure," Gavin said. "So where do we stand?"
    "We stand as follows," I said. "A, I'm going to find out what's going on with Civil Streets. And B, don't put your arm on my shoulder again."
    Gavin stood and looked at me for a moment. I could see that he wasn't used to rejection. Then he simply turned and left. He walked straight back to his car, got in, started up, and drove away without looking at me again.
    Sorehead.

chapter eighteen
    SUSAN AND I were running by the head of the