Table of Contents
THE SPENSER NOVELS
Painted Ladies
The Professional
Rough Weather
Now & Then
Hundred-Dollar Baby
School Days
Cold Service
Bad Business
Back Story
Widow's Walk
Potshot
Hugger Mugger
Hush Money
Sudden Mischief
Small Vices
Chance
Thin Air
Walking Shadow
Paper Doll
Double Deuce
Pastime
Stardust
Playmates
Crimson Joy
Pale Kings and Princes
Taming a Sea-Horse
A Catskill Eagle
Valediction
The Widening Gyre
Ceremony
A Savage Place
Early Autumn
Looking for Rachel Wallace
The Judas Goat
Promised Land
Mortal Stakes
God Save the Child
The Godwulf Manuscript
THE JESSE STONE NOVELS
Split Image
Night and Day
Stranger in Paradise
High Profile
Sea Change
Stone Cold
Death in Paradise
Trouble in Paradise
Night Passage
THE SUNNY RANDALL NOVELS
Spare Change
Blue Screen
Melancholy Baby
Shrink Rap
Perish Twice
Family Honor
THE VIRGIL COLE/EVERETT HITCH NOVELS
Blue-Eyed Devil
Brimstone
Resolution
Appaloosa
ALSO BY ROBERT B. PARKER
Double Play
Gunman's Rhapsody
All Our Yesterdays
A Year at the Races (with Joan H. Parker)
Perchance to Dream
Poodle Springs (with Raymond Chandler)
Love and Glory
Wilderness
Three Weeks in Spring (with Joan H. Parker)
Training with Weights (with John R. Marsh)
G. P. PUTNAM'S SONS
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Copyright (c) 2011 by The Estate of Robert B. Parker
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Published simultaneously in Canada
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Parker, Robert B.
Sixkill / Robert B. Parker.
p. cm.
eISBN : 978-1-101-51466-5
1. Spenser (Fictitious character)--Fiction. 2. Private investigators--Fiction.
3. Murder--Investigation--Fiction. I. Title.
PS3566.A686S
813'.54--dc22
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
While the author has made every effort to provide accurate telephone numbers and Internet addresses at the time of publication, neither the publisher nor the author assumes any responsibility for errors, or for changes that occur after publication.
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As always, for Joan.
And this one's for Lou Zambello.
IT WAS SPRING. The vernal equinox had done whatever it was it did, and the late March air drifting in through the open window in my office was soft even though it wasn't really warm yet. Spring training was under way in full tiresomeness, and opening day was two weeks off.
I was drinking coffee and studying a new comic strip called Frazz to see if there were any existential implications that I might be missing, when Quirk came in and went to the coffeepot, poured himself a cup, added sugar and condensed milk, and took a seat opposite my desk.
"Care for coffee?" I said.
"Got some," Quirk said. "Nice of you to ask."
"You ever read Frazz ?" I said.
"What the fuck is Frazz, " Quirk said.
He was as big as I was, which is biggish, and always dressed well. Today he had on a chestnut-colored Harris tweed jacket. His hands were thick, and there was in his eyes a look of implacable resolution that made most people careful with him.
"A comic strip in the Globe, " I said. "It's new."
"I'm a grown man," Quirk said.
"And a police captain," I said.
"Exactly," Quirk said. "I don't read comic strips."
"I withdraw the question," I said.
Quirk nodded.
"I need something," he said.
"Everyone says so."
He ignored me. Quirk ignored a lot. He wasn't being impolite. He was merely focused, and I had known for years that he cared very little what other people thought.
"You know about Jumbo Nelson?"
"The actor," I said.
"Yes."
"Here shooting a movie," I said.
"Yeah."
"You guys think he murdered a young woman," I said.
"He's a person of interest," Quirk said.
I looked at him. I'd known him a long time.
"And?" I said.
"Lemme fill you in," Quirk said.
I got up and poured myself more coffee, and warmed Quirk's up. Then I put the pot on the burner, sat down in my chair, and leaned back with my feet up.
"Do," I said.
"Real name's Jeremy Franklin Nelson," Quirk said. "Ever seen him?"
"Seen his photograph," I said. "Never seen a movie."
"Photo's enough," Quirk said. "You can see where the nickname came from."
"I can," I said.
"He's in town," Quirk said, "shooting a movie. Which you know."
"As yet untitled," I said.
" Frazz tell you that?" Quirk said.
"I'm adventurous," I said. "Sometimes I read other stuff."
"Fucking media's treating this like it was the Lindbergh kidnapping."
"Lotta media to fill," I said.
"Too much," Quirk said. "Always was. Anyway, Jumbo is in town, travels with a bodyguard, an Indian."
"A Native American?"
Quirk nodded.
"Like I said."
"Could be an India Indian," I said.
"This guy's American Indian," Quirk said. "Wait'll you get a load of him."
"Dangerous?" I said.
