Robert B. Parker - Looking for Rachel Wallace

Books by Robert B. Parker from Dell

ALL OUR YESTERDAYS
CRIMSON JOY
PALE KINGS AND PRINCES
TAMING A SEA-HORSE
A CATSKILL EAGLE
VALEDICTION
LOVE AND GLORY
THE WIDENING GYRE
CEREMONY
A SAVAGE PLACE
EARLY AUTUMN
LOOKING FOR RACHEL WALLACE
WILDERNESS
THE JUDAS GOAT
PROMISED LAND
MORTAL STAKES
GOD SAVE THE CHILD
THE GODWULF MANUSCRIPT

Published by
Dell Publishing
a division of
Random House, Inc.

Copyright 1980 by Robert B. Parker

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the written permission of the Publisher, except where permitted by law. For information address: Delacorte Press/Seymour Lawrence, New York, New York.

The trademark Dell is registered in the U.S. Patent and Trademark Office.

eISBN: 978-0-307-56970-7

September 1987

v3.1

For Joan, David and Daniel

my good fortune

CONTENTS

L OCKE -O BERS R ESTAURANT is on Winter Place, which is an alley off Winter Street just down from the Common. It is Old Boston the way the Custom House tower is Old Boston. The decor is plain. The waiters wear tuxedos. There are private dining rooms. Downstairs is a room which used to be the Mens Bar until it was liberated one lunchtime by a group of humorless women who got into a shouting match with a priest. Now anybody can go in there and do what they want. They take Master Charge.

I didnt need Master Charge. I wasnt paying, John Ticknor was paying. And he didnt need Master Charge, because he was paying with the companys money. I ordered lobster Savannah. The company was Hamilton Black Publishing, and they had ten million dollars. Ticknor ordered scrod.

And two more drinks, please.

Very good. The waiter took our menus and hurried off. He had a hearing aid in each ear.

Ticknor finished his Negroni. You drink only beer, Mr. Spenser?

The waiter returned with a draft Heineken for me and another Negroni for Ticknor.

No. Ill drink wine sometimes.

But no hard liquor?

Not often. I dont like it. I like beer.

And you always do what you like.

Almost always. Sometimes I cant.

He sipped some more Negroni. Sipping didnt look easy for him.

What might prevent you? he said.

I might have to do something I dont like in order to get to do something I like a lot.

Ticknor smiled a little. Metaphysical, he said.

I waited. I knew he was trying to size me up. That was okay, I was used to that. People didnt know anything about hiring someone like me, and they almost always vamped around for a while.

I like milk, too, I said. Sometimes I drink that.

Ticknor nodded. Do you carry a gun? he said.

Yes.

The waiter brought our salad.

How tall are you?

Six one and something.

How much do you weigh?

Two-oh-one and a half, this morning, after running.

How far do you run?

The salad was made with Boston lettuce and was quite fresh.

I do about five miles a day, I said. Every once in a while Ill do ten to sort of stretch out.

How did your nose get broken?

I fought Joe Walcott once when he was past his prime.

And he broke your nose?

If hed been in his prime, hed have killed me, I said.

You were a fighter then.

I nodded. Ticknor was washing down a bite of salad with the rest of his Negroni.

And youve been on the police?

I nodded.

And you were dismissed?

Yeah.

Why?

They said I was intractable.

Were they right?

Yeah.

The waiter brought our entre.

I am told that you are quite tough.

You betcha, I said. I was debating here today whether to have lobster Savannah or just eat one of the chairs.

Ticknor smiled again, but not like he wanted me to marry his sister.

I was also told that you wereI believe the phrase was, and Im quotinga smart-mouthed bastardthough it was not said without affection.

I said, Whew.

Ticknor ate a couple of green peas from the side dish. He was maybe fifty and athletic-looking. Squash probably, tennis. Maybe he rode. He wore rimless glasses, which you dont see all that often anymore, and had a square-jawed Harvardy face, and an unkempt gray crew cut like Archibald Cox. Not a patsy even with the Bryn Mawr accent Not soft.

Were you thinking of commissioning a biography of me, or do you want to hire me to break someones arm?

I know some book reviewers, he said, but no, neither of those. He ate five more peas. Do you know very much about Rachel Wallace?

Sisterhood , I said.

Really?

Yeah.

I have an intellectual friend. Sometimes she reads to me.

What did you think of it?

I thought Simone de Beauvoir already said most of it.

Have you read The Second Sex ?

Dont tell the guys down the gym, I said. Theyll think Im a fairy.

We published Sisterhood.

Oh, yeah?

Nobody ever notices the publisher. But yes, we did. And were publishing her new book.

What is that called?

Tyranny.

Catchy title.

It is an unusual book, Ticknor said. The tyrants are people in high places who discriminate against gay women.

Catchy idea, I said.

Ticknor frowned for a moment. The people in high places are named. Ms. Wallace has already had threats against her if the book is published.

Ah-hah, I said.

I beg your pardon?

My role in this is beginning to take on definition.

Oh, yes, the threats. Well, yes. Thats it essentially. We want you to protect her.

Two hundred dollars a day, I said. And expenses.

Expenses?

Yeah, you know. Sometimes I run out of ammunition and have to buy more. Expenses.

There are people I can get for half that.

Yeah.

The waiter cleared the lunch dishes and poured coffee.

Im not authorized to go that high.

I sipped my coffee.

I can offer one hundred thirty-five dollars a day.

I shook my head.

Ticknor laughed. Have you ever been a literary agent? he said.

I told you, I dont do things I dont like to do if I can avoid it.

And you dont like to work for a hundred and thirty-five a day.

I nodded.

Can you protect her?

Sure. But you know as well as I do that it depends on what I protect her from. I cant prevent a psychopath from sacrificing himself to kill her. I cant prevent a horde of hate-crazed sexists from descending on her. I can make her harder to hurt, I can up the cost to the hurter. But if she wishes to live anything like a normal life, I cant make her completely safe.

I understand that, Ticknor said. He didnt look happy about it, though.

What about the cops? I said.

Ms. Wallace doesnt trust them. She sees them as, quote, agents of repression.

Oh.

She has also said she refuses to have, and once again I quote, a rabble of armed thugs following me about day and night. She has agreed to a single bodyguard. At first she insisted on a woman.