Rescue

dead.“
    “And the other two weren’t.“
    No answer.
    I said, “And nobody on your end had to fire a shot or file a report on a shooting or—“
    “Okay, okay. So maybe you’re entitled to a little slack. What is it?“
    “Simple. I need to run two plates with New Hampshire .“
    “ What, they don’t have a procedure for you guys to follow on that?“
    “They do. But they won’t jump through hoops for a private out-of-stater, and I need the answers haste-posthaste.“
    “What?“
    “I think it’s Shakespeare.“
    “Then go ask him.“
    “O’Boy.“
    A labored sigh. “Cuddy, it’s Friday afternoon, for chrissake.“
    “Your computer can’t talk to their computer?“
    “Yeah, but we usually do those things off-hours when there’s no emergency.“
    “This is kind of an emergency, O’Boy.“
    A guttural noise. Then, “Tell you what. I can try to slip them in with our next batch of requests, so nobody notices name’s on yours.“
    “When would that be?“
    “Tomorrow morning.“
    Can you call me after that?“
    “Cuddy, I’m taking the wife on a getaway weekend to Boothbay Harbor .“
    “They have phones in Maine .“
    You don’t follow. It’s more like she’s taking me, kind of a second honeymoon. She thinks the ‘getaway’ part sounds naughty for a cop.“
    “You can’t manage one call to your department and an other to me?“
    “I’m kind of hoping not to be able to, if you get my drift.“
    I thought about it. “Monday, first thing?“
    “I oughta be able to do that. Soon’s I get in, I’ll check with our computer jock, see what he’s got.“
    I didn’t see any faster service by dealing with the registry myself. “Okay, but first thing Monday, right?“
    “Right, right. Piece of advice?“
    “Go ahead.“
    “You gotta learn to chill out, Cuddy. Every case isn’t a matter of life and death.“
    Images of PFC Duquette in the gutter and the woman in the morgue and a little boy with a strawberry birthmark ‘ crossed my mind. “No, not every one.“

5

    T hat same Friday night, Nancy said, “You seem fidgety.“
    “ I don’t feel fidgety.“
    We were sitting on stools at the bar of a place called the Irish Embassy near Boston Garden . They’d redone the interior after buying one of the old 99s, a chain all over the metro area. Truth to tell, if you have a liquor license within three blocks of the Garden, you don’t need much more than a roof and a bathroom to pack the people in, even when the Celtics and Bruins aren’t playing.
    Nancy looked at me over the rim of her pint of Harp. “If you’re not fidgety, how come you didn’t answer my question?“
    I set down my Black and Tan. “Sorry.“
    She looked at me some more.
    I said, “Okay, what was your question?“
    “Do you really think they’re serious about a new Garden?“
    “This time?“
    “This time.“
    Over the past twenty years, a rotating cast of developers politicians have regaled the public with news conferences about building a new facility for basketball and hockey. The current arena is old and cruddy, with restricted sightlines. It’s also where I remember seeing Bill Russell and Dave Cowens and Jo Jo White and Larry Bird on the parquet floor laid over the ice surface when Johnny Bucyk and Bobby Orr and Derek Sanderson and Gerry Cheevers weren’t using it. Not to mention the Ringling Brothers Circus and the Moody Blues and even some—
    “John, what’s the matter with you?“
    “What?“
    “You’re zoning out on me again.“
    I turned to her. We’d both changed into casual clothes after work to hear some Irish music, the rest of the people around us dressed in everything from designer suits to sweat suits. Nancy was wearing white duck pants and a cotton cowl-neck sweater in one of those in-between reds I never get right. I had on a chalk-striped shirt and corduroys that were almost too warm for the night but not quite. “I was just thinking of some old times.“
    She got a little wistful. “The ones before me.“
    “Not exactly, Nance. I’m worrying something that gives me a bad feeling.“
    “A case?“
    “Not yet.“
    The wistful look turned a little hurt.
    I said, “I know we agreed to share things, kid. It’s just that this might be a direct conflict of interest for you.“
    “How direct?“
    “A Boston death that the police aren’t treating as a homicide.“
    “But you are.“
    “It just doesn’t feel right to me.“
    A better smile. “So long as I still feel