The Professional - By Robert B. Parker Page 0,25

said.

“Yes. Plus, of course, the money is good as money.”

“Sometimes a cigar is just a cigar?”

“Or sometimes it’s a cigar as well as several other things,” Susan said.

“You think the women are humiliated?” I said.

“Not necessarily,” Susan said. “It may only be in his fantasy.”

“You think all this is true of Gary?”

“I don’t know,” Susan said. “It’s a theory of the case.”

“Or several,” I said. “But they’re worth testing, I think.”

“There’s no reason to avoid the scientific method,” Susan said.

I pretended to take notes on the palm of my hand.

“Whoops,” Susan said. “I’m slipping into a lecture.”

“But gracefully,” I said.

Susan smiled.

“Anyway, it might pay off to go back over Gary’s, ah, career, and see what patterns you can find, and see if they support our theory,” she said.

“Your theory,” I said.

“Okay. What is your theory?”

“That you may be right,” I said.

“I will also make a small bet with you,” Susan said.

“Which is?”

“He’ll call me for a date,” Susan said.

“No bet on that,” I said. “But I’ll bet you don’t accept.”

“I only date you, snookums,” Susan said. “But if I were to go out with someone else, it wouldn’t be Gary Eisenhower.”

“Because?”

“I’m pretty sure it wouldn’t be about me,” Susan said.

“Is that an informed guess?” I said.

“It’s a woman’s-intuition guess,” she said.

“Good as any,” I said

She finished her coffee. I paid the check. Susan got her coat. And we left. On the stairs I put an arm around her shoulder. She looked up at me and smiled.

“ ‘Snookums’?” I said.

“I’m the only one who knows,” she said.

Chapter29

I MET BETH JACKSON for lunch in a restaurant in the Chestnut Hill Mall. She had a salad. In the spirit of the season I had a turkey sandwich.

“You’re still seeing Gary Eisenhower,” I said.

Beth was wearing a fur hat like a Russian Cossack, and she looked cuter than a body has a right to. She speared a cherry tomato from her salad and popped it into her mouth and chewed and swallowed.

“So?” she said.

“Didn’t you hire me to get him out of your life?”

“That was then,” she said. “This is now.”

“What caused the change?” I said.

She ate a piece of lettuce and pushed her plate away. She blotted her lips with her napkin. Then she folded the napkin and put it down on the table. She took some lip gloss out of her purse and touched up her lips using a small makeup mirror. Then she put that away, put her purse on the floor beside her chair, and smiled at me.

“A girl’s got a right to change her mind,” she said.

“So now you don’t want me to get him out of your life?” I said.

Her smile widened without becoming warmer. She put her hands together and touched the center of her upper lip with her steepled forefingers.

“I wanted you to get him out of everyone else’s life,” she said.

“So he could be all yours?” I said.

“Exactly,” she said.

“He’s blackmailing you,” I said.

She shrugged.

“We need the money,” she said.

“You and Gary?” I said.

“Yes,” she said. “So we can be together. Chet can spare it.”

“But why join the effort to get rid of him?” I said. “Why not just stay out of it, stay with him, and collect the money that the others are paying him.”

“You think I’m the only one slipping back to him?”

“I’ve stopped trying to think,” I said. “I’m just chasing information.”

“I didn’t want anyone to suspect that I was still with him,” she said. “So I agreed to the deal with the lawyer and you. I figured I could help him, even, by being on the inside, you know?”

She was as perky as a chickadee but dumber.

“You keep seeing him,” I said, “and you may get him killed.”

“Killed? Who’s going to kill him?”

I didn’t answer. I wasn’t sure why, but I wasn’t ready to quite give Chet up yet.

She smiled.

“You think Chet would kill him? For me?”

I didn’t answer that, either.

“That’s kind of exciting,” Beth said. “Isn’t that kind of fun? Like an old-fashioned movie. You know? Men killing each other over me?”

“It’s probably less fun than it looks,” I said.

“Oh, poo,” she said. “I can handle Chet.”

“Maybe,” I said. “But maybe Gary can’t.”

“So it is Chet?”

“Might be,” I said.

Christmas carols were playing. Many people were carrying packages with Christmas wrapping. It was like being in a commercial. I looked at Beth. I could see the tip of her tongue as she ran it back and forth over her lower lip.

“Well, I’m not backing off,” she said.

“Of course not,” I said.