Pastime by Robert B. Parker Read Free Book Online

you know?"
    "You know where they might be?" I said.
    Marty shrugged. To do so, he had to let go of the dog. I shrugged my left shoulder slightly to feel the pleasant weight of the Browning under my arm.
    The dog maintained the steady sound. Maybe he was bored. Maybe he was humming to himself.
    "Hell, no."
    "You know where Beaumont lives?"
    "Sure. Lives on the beach in Revere. One of them new condos."
    "Address?"
    "Richie won't like it, me giving you his address."
    "We won't like it if you don't," I said.
    "You getting tough with me, buddy, you like to wrestle with Buster here?"
    "Buster's overmatched," I said, "unless he's carrying."
    "What's that dog you got, a Doberman?"
    I grinned. "Not quite," I said. "What's Rich Beaumont's address?"
    Marty hesitated.
    "You got all the proper licenses here?" I said. "I don't see any on that hound, for instance. You got the proper permits for everything? Asphalt storage? Vehicle's been inspected lately? That Quonset built to code?"
    "Hey," Marty said. "Hey. What the fuck?"
    "It'll save us a little time if you give us the address," Paul said. "We can find it anyway. Just take a little longer. You save us some time, we'd be very grateful. We won't tell him where we got it."
    Marty looked down at the dog, looked at me, and looked back at Paul.
    "Sure," he said. "You seem like; nice kid." He gave Paul an address on
    Revere Beach Boulevard. Then he looked at me. "You catch more flies with honey," he said, "than you do with vinegar. You know?"
    "I've heard that," I said. "I've not found it to be true."

CHAPTER 10
    Richie Beaumont wasn't home. He had a condominium on the top floor of a twelve-story concrete building full of condominia that faced the Atlantic, across Revere Beach. From his living room you could probably see the oil tankers easing into Chelsea Creek. Rich wasn't the only one that wasn't home. Still and clean and smelling strongly of recently cured concrete, the place echoed with emptiness.
    "They must have built this place as the condo boom was peaking," Paul said.
    "Or slightly after," I said.
    Pearl skittered down the empty corridor ahead of us, her claws sliding on the new vinyl. At the elevator she pressed her nose at the crack where the closed doors met and snuffled loudly.
    "I thought she only pointed birds," Paul said.
    The elevator arrived, the doors opened, and we got in. When we got to the lobby there were two guys in it. One of them was a stocky guy with a highblack pompadour. He had on a black, thigh-length leather coat and black pegged pants. His black boots were badly worn at the heels and had sharp toes. The other guy was a slugger. Maybe three hundred pounds, his chin sunk into the folds of fat around his neck. Pearl went directly to them, her tail wagging, her ears pricked, her tongue lolling happily. The slugger backed up involuntarily.
    "Watch it," he said to the guy with the hairdo. "That's a Doberman, it'll take your hand off."
    The guy with the pompadour barely glanced at him. He put one hand down absently and scratched Pearl behind the ear.
    "You the guys looking for Richie Beaumont?" he said.
    I looked at Paul. "Now you say, `Who wants to know?'"
    "Who wants to know?" Paul said.
    "Good," I said. "Now you." I pointed at Pompadour.
    "What are you, a comedian?" he said.
    "Breaking the kid in," I said. "I'd appreciate if you answered right. Say,
    1 want to know."
    The fat slugger was looking nervously at Pearl. She turned her head toward him and he flinched a little, and put his hand inside his Members Only windbreaker.
    "Listen, asshole. Vinnie Morris is outside and he wants to talk with you.
    Now."
    "We can do this easy or hard," Sluggo said.
    "Careful I don't sic my Doberman on you," I said. "It ain't a fucking Doberman," Pompadour said,"it's a fucking pointer. Tiny don't know shit from dogs."
    "Among other things," I said. "We'll talk with Vinnie."
    I put Pearl's leash on and we went out through the wide glass doors and down the empty capacious steps. The