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

for me, it is a process of curing the whole person."
    "Not everyone wants that," I said. "Some of them just want to stop drinking."
    "And they perhaps go elsewhere."
    "And if they stop drinking, they're still the same person they were, except they don't drink," I said.
    "Possibly," Susan said.
    "But doesn't what caused them to drink in the first place remain undisturbed?"
    "Might," Susan said.
    "And maybe work its way out in another form?" I said.
    "Could," Susan said.
    "Try not to be so dogmatic about this," I said.
    She smiled. Which was like moonlight on the Seine.
    "We are both in uncertain professions," Susan said.
    She shrugged.
    "Can't hurt if I train him," I said.
    "Probably can't," Susan said. "But you might wish to remind yourself that people develop a means of coping with stress, and, even after the stress is gone, the coping mechanism is there and working."
    "Which can cause a lot of trouble," I said.
    "A lot," Susan said.
    "On the other hand," I said, "you gotta start somewhere."
    "Or," Susan said, "you could tell him to peddle his problems someplace else."
    "I think I'll start somewhere," I said.
    "There's a shock," Susan said.

14

    THE INN ON THE WHARF was a new boutique hotel for the very uppermost crust, which translated roughly into those who could afford it. It was on the waterfront, and all rooms had a view of the harbor. The top-floor suites, where Jumbo had been, probably had a view of Lisbon.
    I was off the lobby, in a windowless little office, talking to the director of hotel security, a former FBI agent named Dean Delmar. Hotel counsel was also present.
    "Nice view," I said.
    Delmar shrugged.
    "Our job is not ostentatious," he said.
    "I can see that," I said. "What can you tell me about the night Dawn Lopata died?"
    "I went over this with a couple of detectives already," Delmar said. "Can't you just access their notes?"
    "I like to start from scratch," I said. "That way, my mind is uncluttered, so to speak."
    "We have no legal obligation to tell you anything," Hotel Counsel said.
    He looked like someone from casting had sent him over to play the corporate lawyer. He was youngish, and lean, with dark hair cut short and a pair of blue-framed half-glasses that he wore low on his nose, so he could look over them at you.
    "Of course you don't," I said. "But I know that both of you, like good citizens everywhere, want this terrible incident resolved, and would prefer it be resolved with a minimum of media attention."
    "Are you threatening to involve the media if we don't talk with you?" Hotel Counsel said.
    "Are you suggesting that I am the kind of sleazy gumshoe that would do such a thing?" I said.
    We looked at each other.
    "Let us agree," Hotel Counsel said, "that what is said here stays here."
    "Is there a big secret?" I said.
    "No," Hotel Counsel said. "Of course not. But I don't want any loose talk besmirching the hotel."
    "No besmirching," I said.
    "It is not a frivolous request," Hotel Counsel said. "The public perception of this hotel can mean the difference between success and failure."
    "I am employed by Cone, Oakes, and Baldwin," I said. "I will share what I learn with them."
    "And no one else."
    "Within the guidelines of legality," I said.
    Hotel Counsel glanced at Delmar and shrugged and nodded.
    "Whaddya need?" Delmar said to me.
    "Run through it for me," I said. "When did you first learn that something was amiss in Jumbo Nelson's suite?"
    "Call to the front desk, around eleven-thirty," Delmar said.
    "From?"
    "Not entirely clear," Delmar said. "Best guess is the bodyguard."
    "Zebulon Sixkill," I said.
    "Yep."
    "Could it have been Jumbo?" I said.
    "Clerk said she thought it was the Indian," Delmar said. "But it was sort of a crisis call, so she may be wrong."
    "In public," Hotel Counsel said, "you might not want to refer to him as 'the Indian.' The bodyguard is all right. Or Mr. Sixkill. But not 'the Indian.' "
    "You bet," Delmar said.
    "What did the caller say?" I asked.
    "Said there was a