Rough Weather - By Robert B. Parker Page 0,54

as a proposition,” I said.

Susan smiled.

“The glass is always half full for you,” she said.

We were having dinner at Davio’s. Susan was doing something with a salad. Hawk appeared thrilled with his veal chop. I was having pasta with Bolognese sauce, which is what I always had. Traditions matter.

“Aside from ‘Fuck you,’” Susan said, “did you learn anything else?”

“I confirmed my suspicion that she knows a lot and lies about it,” I said.

“What do you think she knows?” Susan said.

“I think she knows pretty much everything,” I said. “She knew about her daughter’s suicide attempt, though she denied that it was a suicide attempt. I think she knew about her daughter’s molestation. I think she knew Rugar from way back. I think she knows that her second and third husbands would no longer be able to support her. I think she cannot support herself. Her daughter’s marriage to Lessard was probably providential.”

“Even if he’s dead?”

“Epstein says Adelaide inherits everything he would have, plus her husband’s share of the business, according to the pre-nup.”

“If Adelaide is alive,” Susan said.

“Even if she’s dead, her mother might be her heir,” I said.

“My God,” Susan said. “She wouldn’t have her own daughter killed.”

“She might,” I said.

Susan nodded.

“If one of us can even think of it,” she said, “someone could do it.”

“Also the bridegroom, Maurice Lessard, was, according to his sister, gay.”

“And he married Adelaide because?”

“She was his beard? She was gay, too, and they bearded each other?”

“The molestation might have a place in all of this,” Susan said.

“Might,” I said.

“She admit any of this?” Susan said.

“No.”

“Hawk?” Susan said. “You were there.”

“Spenser’s right,” Hawk said. “You sit and listen to her and you know she’s scrambling for cover. You know she’s lying.”

Susan nodded and ate a little salad and sipped a little wine.

“Not for nothing,” she said to Hawk, “but are you aware that, in those rare moments when you are perfectly serious, you lose your accent.”

“I am,” Hawk said.

Susan smiled.

“So if she knows all this stuff, and won’t tell you, then doesn’t that mean she’s complicit?”

“Be my guess,” I said.

“But exactly what is she complicit in?” Susan said.

“I don’t know for sure,” I said. “And it’s all guesswork and intuition. The courts do not welcome intuition.”

“But . . .” Susan said.

“But there’s an awful lot of money in the mix.”

“Cherchez la bread,” Hawk said.

“Wow,” I said. “Multicultural, too.”

“But,” Susan said. “Why all this huge huzzarah on the island? Kidnapping, shootings, and all that?”

“I been thinking about that, too,” I said. “When I’m not admiring Hawk’s linguistic range. I tried it from the other end, so to speak. If the deal on the island is so not Rugar, then who is it? If one were to throw a kidnapping, who would throw one like that?”

“Heidi,” Susan said.

I looked at Hawk.

“See,” I said. “Not just another pretty face.”

“No,” Hawk said. “Got nice legs, too.”

“It is just the kind of overproduced extravaganza that people like Heidi would throw,” Susan said. “Maybe she didn’t expect all the killing. Certainly she couldn’t have planned the hurricane. But . . .”

“Like a kidnapping thrown by a party planner,” Hawk said.

“Yes,” Susan said.

“But why would Rugar go along with it?” I said.

“Money?” Susan said.

“Always a good guess,” I said. “But it is so against his nature.”

Hawk nodded.

“Had to be something in addition to money,” Hawk said.

“And what would be in addition to money?” Susan said.

“And you a shrink,” Hawk said.

“Love,” I said.

Hawk nodded. Susan nodded, too. We were silent.

“Rugar and Heidi?” Susan said after a while.

I turned my palms up. Hawk said nothing.

“Nothing is proven,” Susan said.

“But some of it can be,” I said. “Sooner or later we’ll find out if Heidi knew Rugar. Sooner or later we’ll get a look at her finances. Sooner or later we should be able to find out if Adelaide was abused and by whom.”

“If she’s alive,” Hawk said.

I nodded.

“If she’s alive,” I said.

“You think she is?” Susan said.

“I don’t know that she isn’t,” I said.

Susan nodded. She cut up a leaf of romaine lettuce and ate part of it, and drank some wine.

“Do you think Rugar killed Bradshaw?”

“Who in this mess more likely?” I said.

“Tony Marcus?”

“Nope, I believe him. I think he had Ty-Bop ace Leonard to sever himself from the whole business, and to remind his employees of the zero-tolerance rule.”

“Why would Rugar kill Bradshaw?”

“Don’t know. But if there’s a connection back to Bucharest, we might be able to find out,” I said.

“If Heidi is in collusion with Rugar,” Susan said, “and if