"He ain't my type," Belson said. "But it seems like he was hers."

"He say how Mary Toricelli met Nathan Smith?" I said.

"He didn't say."

"Might be good to know," I said.

"I'll get to it," Quirk said.

"So where does all the other stuff fit?" I said.

"Like?"

"Like Brinkman the broker, and Amy Peters, and Soldiers Field Development, and Marvin Conroy, and the kid I killed in Southie, and Jack DeRosa and his girlfriend, for instance," I said.

"You always been picky," Quirk said.

"You ask him any of that?"

"I'll get to it."

"We going to talk with her?" I said.

"We? All of a sudden it's we?"

"I want to make sure you don't start whacking her in the face," I said.

"I'm going to call her attorney," Quirk said. "Have her come in with Mrs. Smith for a dignified interview."

"Homicide commander doesn't usually get down to this level of nitty-gritty," I said. "Does he? Or she?"

"In this case, he," Quirk said. "Lotta people been killed. And the suspect is worth a large amount of money."

"So you're hearing about it."

"Mayor's up for reelection," Quirk said. "He's been bragging about the crime rate."

"So you're showing a laudable hands-on interest."

Quirk nodded. He might have almost smiled a little.

"And there are personnel issues," he said.

Belson kept his eyes on the road as he spoke over his right shoulder.

"I told Quirk I'd take early retirement," he said, "before I'd go one-on-one with Mary Smith again."

"The power of dumb," I said.

CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE.

When I got back to my office there were two calls on my answering machine. One was from Hawk asking if I still needed backup. The other was from a secretary at Kiley and Harbaugh. Mr. Kiley would like to have breakfast with me in the coffee shop of his building the next morning and could I call to confirm. I called Hawk at the Harbor Health Club and left a message with Henry that since everybody seemed to have skedaddled, and whatever was going on had stopped, I figured there was no further need to kill me and Hawk could therefore go back to his career of crime. Then I called the secretary at Kiley and Harbaugh and confirmed, and, at 7:30 the next morning, I met him there. He was already seated when I came in.

"Don't have the bagels," Kiley said. "Cranberry m.u.f.fins."

I went to the counter and got orange juice, coffee, and a cranberry m.u.f.fin and brought it to Kiley's table, and sat. Kiley didn't say anything. I drank some juice. Kiley had a m.u.f.fin, too, and some juice. Same breakfast I was having, except I was eating mine.

"I been practicing criminal law around here for most of my adult life," Kiley said.

I drank some orange juice.

"I known you sort of here and there and roundabout for a long time," Kiley said.

I nodded and drank the rest of my orange juice.

"Everything I know about you says your word is good."

"For something," I said.

"I checked on you, cops, DA, lotta people." Kiley smiled. "Some of them clients. The consensus is that you're a hard-on, but I can trust you."

I had mixed feelings about the consensus, but I had nothing to add.

"Before we talk," Kiley said, "I need your word that it goes no further."

"I can't promise, Bobby, until I know what I'm promising."

Kiley looked at my face for a moment and pursed his lips. His cranberry m.u.f.fin lay on his plate unmolested.

"It's about my daughter," he said.

I put a little milk in my coffee and stirred it. "I'll protect your daughter," I said carefully, "if I can."

"What makes you think she needs protection?" Kiley said.

"Come on, Bobby."

He nodded. "Yeah. That was dumb. Okay. You gimme your word?"

"I'll do the best I can," I said.

"Your word?"

"Yes."

"The kid you killed," Kiley said.

"Kevin McGonigle."

"Yeah. We represented him once."

I raised my eyebrows. I could raise one at a time, but I saved that for women.

"Him and another guy, guy named Scanlan, got arrested on a.s.sault charges. They beat up a real estate appraiser. Cops caught them in progress, down back of South Station."

"Why?"

"Appraiser claims he didn't know them, had no idea why they a.s.saulted him. Refused to press charges."

Kiley was right about the cranberry m.u.f.fins.

"So how'd you get involved?" I said.

"Guy called here, asked us to go down and see about them. We represented them maybe two hours."

"They call you?"

"No. Ann took it."

"She go down?"

"Yes."

"What was the appraiser's name?" I said.

Kiley took a piece of folded notepaper from his shirt pocket and read it.

"Bisbee," he said. "Thomas Bisbee."

He handed me the paper.

"Who paid you?"

"That's bothersome," Kiley said. "We got no record of anybody paying us."

"Any record of anybody being billed?"

"No."

"That is bothersome," I said. "McGonigle didn't look like your kind of client any more than DeRosa did."

"We're criminal lawyers," Kiley said. "Some of our clients are criminals."

"Usually criminals who can pay."

"True."

"Was McGonigle someone who could pay?"

"He wasn't. He was muscle. Just like Scanlan."

"Who were they working for?" I said.

"I don't know."

I got up and went to the serving counter and got more coffee for myself and a fresh cup for Kiley.

"So," I said when I came back, "what do you want from me?"

"I want to know how deep in she is," Kiley said.

"You asked her?"

"She won't talk to me about it. She says it's a question of professional respect, that she won't allow me to treat her like a child."

"And you want me to find out what happened," I said.

"G.o.dd.a.m.n it, she's my child."

I nodded. "I have a client," I said.

"I'm not asking you anything that would interfere with that. I'm asking you while you're serving your client to keep an eye out. And let me know."

"Give me the name of the other guy she defended."

"Chuckie Scanlan."

"Chuck," I said.

"You know him?"

"No. Guy named Jack DeRosa claimed a guy named Chuck put him in touch with Mary Smith."

"Common name," Kiley said.

I nodded. "Where do I find him?"

"Works in a liquor store on Broadway. Donovan's."

"Ann knows this guy, she knew DeRosa, and she is, or was, Marvin Conroy's girlfriend."

"Yeah. I noticed that, too," Kiley said.