Shallow Graves

That’s fine, really, because I have my life and my job, too.“ Her right hand slashed through the air. “Even steven. But I just realized tonight that the main reason I got Renfield from the animal shelter in the first place is that. .
    Something churned inside her, and I started hoping that this wasn’t going to be a much longer speech.
    “... is that I needed company when we weren’t together. Once I got used to having you around, I needed somebody around when you weren’t.“
    “Like Renfield.“
    Nancy pointed at me. “Exactly.“
    “When can you pick him up?“
    “That’s the other thing. They have to keep him till Friday afternoon. ‘Cause of the anestex... anesthesia. They have to keep an eye on him when he wakes up. But I have to leave for Dallas that morning for my talk, and I can’t...“
    Her voice quavered, and I got up on my knees and hugged her. “I can pick him up, no sweat.“
    She started to cry quietly. “But I can’t even be—“
    “Nancy, don’t worry, okay? I’ll pick him up, and he’ll be fine.“
    She nodded into my shoulder, and I felt something else move inside her.
    “Nance, why don’t we get you into the bathroom?“
    “Good... idea.“
    We just made it.

    Nancy got out of bed Thursday morning on the strength of a quart of ice water and three Excedrin. After I dropped her at the courthouse, I drove to the condo space and decided to run to clear my own head toward seeing Harry Mullen.
    It had been a few weeks since I’d done the Boston marathon, but most of the ill effects were gone. My right toenail, which had turned black, began growing out instead of falling off. My side, where I’d taken a bullet in the little pocket of fat above the hip bone, healed over nicely, just a livid mark on the love handle.
    I still had the endurance the training had given me, but I expected that would evaporate over the next few months. In just a cotton turtleneck and shorts, I crossed Storrow Drive on the Fairfield Street pedestrian ramp, heading upriver on the macadam path. They were still repairing the Mass Ave Bridge, the orange cement trucks looking like ladybugs on a branch. It seemed as though they’d been repairing the bridge since I’d started high school.
    Nearing Boston University, I passed over the painted outlines of several bodies, limbs akimbo. I think the outlines were supposed to represent some people killed during a coup in Chile. The paint certainly wasn’t the work of a crime scene techie. The police use removable tape or washable chalk so as not to terrify the tourists any longer than necessary.
    I made the turn for home at the Harvard Square bridge, thinking that it had been my first training run for the marathon and remembering how much trouble I’d had with it five months earlier. Then my mind shifted to confronting Harry Mullen over what he’d gotten me into, and I picked up my pace considerably on the way back.

    He looked miserable even before he saw me in his doorway.
    “Jeez, John, nobody told me you were here.“
    I gestured behind me. “There was nobody out here to ask. Where’s the staff?“
    Mullen motioned me in. He pulled a cigarette pack from his shirt pocket, and I reflexively closed the door.
    Harry lit up without handing me a towel or setting up his electronic box. There was even an ashtray on his desk, five dead butts already in it. “You got my message on your tape there?“
    “I got it. Of course, the Danuccis delivered then message a little sooner.“
    Mullen flinched, took a deep drag, and blew it out like a fire-eater. “I want to explain this, John.“
    “I want to hear it.“
    Harry waited for me to take the visitor’s chair. No more comfortable than last time.
    He said, “First, I swear to you, I didn’t know a thing about the Danucci side of it.“
    “Bullshit, Harry.“
    “No, honest to God. Yulin’s call and letter came in while I was out of the office. Because the policy’s half a million, the claim went down to New York before we even started on it up here.“ Mullen took another hard drag. “And your friend Brad Winningham spotted the Dani name.“
    “How did he do that?“
    “He knew somebody went to law school with the girl’s uncle. I guess everybody at the school knew about the guy changing his name because of the family connection.“
    “Look, Harry, why didn’t you tip me to this when I came to see you Tuesday afternoon?“
    “Because I didn’t know, John. I swear.“
    “How come you didn’t