Playmates by Robert B. Parker Read Free Book Online Page A

help the kid."
    "Kid grew up in one of the meanest ghettos in the world. He's gotten through almost four years at a major eastern university. He's going to have a pro career, unless he gets hurt, that will make him maybe a million dollars a year. Along the way he's acquired a nice girlfriend."
    "And if you do what you're hired to do that all goes to hell," Susan said.
    "Except maybe the girlfriend."
    Susan smiled at me slowly. "That's what it really is, isn't it?" she said. "You are one of the three or four most romantic diddles in the world, and because this guy has a young woman who you think will stand by her man, you want to adopt them both."
    "There's no such thing as a bad boy," I said.
    "Sure," Susan said. "He ain't heavy, he's my brother." Her eyes were full of laughter, and something else, as she looked at me over the rim of her brandy alexander.
    "A romantic diddle?"
    "It's the first word that came to mind," she said.
    "And yet you find me physically compelling."
    "I find you compelling in every way," Susan said. And I knew what the something else was in her eyes.
    "Even though I'm a romantic diddle?"
    "Especially," Susan said, "because of that."
    "So you agree that I should look into things a little more before I toot the whistle on the kid."
    "I agree, I approve and, more than that, I knew before the conversation began that you weren't going to 'toot the whistle.' "
    "Nobody likes a know-it-all," I said.
    Susan put her hand out and laid it on top of mine.
    "Somebody does," she said.

12
    I was sitting in my office with my feet up, thinking about Dwayne Woodcock and Chantel and point shaving and illiteracy and the backside of the new young paralegal who'd opened an office across the hall. The door to my office was open in case the paralegal wanted to stroll down the hall. A fine-looking black-haired man with a ruddy face walked in. He was wearing pale brown boaters and starched acid-washed jeans and a green polo shirt with the collar up. His jacket was silk tweed, dark brown and nipped in at the waist. His thick black hair was longish and brushed back on each side. A gold medallion on a thick gold chain showed at his throat. On his left hand was a big ring with a blue stone that looked like a high school or college ring. His sunglasses hung against his chest on a cord.
    "How ya doing," he said when he came in.
    "Fine," I said. I kept one eye peeled on the hallway.
    "Got a few minutes?" he said.
    "Sure." The accent was New York.
    "Mind if I close the door?"
    I sighed. "No," I said brightly, "go ahead."
    He closed it and then turned and sat down in my client chair. He was about my height and slender. His hands were square and pale with a lot of black hair on the backs. The nails were manicured. I could smell cologne. There was a yellow silk handkerchief in the breast pocket of his jacket. He had the jacket sleeves pushed up over his forearms. On the left wrist was a gold Rolex.
    "Nice office," he said.
    "Compared to what?"
    "Compared to working out of a packing crate in Canarsie," he said. "You mind if I smoke?" I shook my head. He took a pigskin cigarette case out of his coat pocket, and a round gold lighter. He took out a cigarette, offered the open case to me. I shook my head. He snapped the case closed, dropped it into his side pocket, snapped a flame from the lighter, put the cigarette into his mouth and lit it, automatically shielding the flame as if the wind were blowing. He took in smoke and let it out through his nose as he dropped the lighter back into the pocket with the cigarettes. Then he leaned back in the chair and stretched his feet in front of him and surveyed my office some more. He nodded approvingly.
    "Nice little setup," he said. I tried to look humble.
    "Must make a pretty nice living with a setup like this.
    I looked at the closed door.
    I said, "I don't mean to seem impatient, but for the last hour I've been trying to get a look at the young woman across the hall and she usually walks by about