Silent Night: A Spenser Holiday Novel (10 page)

I
WAS UNLOCKING THE
DOOR
to my office when I saw a shadow in the corner by the stairwell. It moved. I backed up and reached for my weapon.

“Slide,” I said. “What are you doing over there? Come on in.” I opened the door.

He gave me a quick smile before putting out his hand. Maybe Carmen taught him. I took it, and gravely we shook.

“Are you very busy, Spenser?” he said.

“Not too busy. Tell me what’s up,” I said.

Slide had on a new pair of jeans and a Red Sox sweatshirt, along with the same oversize navy peacoat.

“I want to get a present for Carmen,” he said. He looked at me, trusting that I would know exactly what the twenty-nine-year-old ex-mistress of a drug czar would fancy for Christmas.

“What’s our budget?”

He looked worried. He dug into his jeans pocket and brought out some crumpled bills and gave them to me. Twenty-two dollars of hard-earned money. “This should do it,” I said to him. “Follow me.”

We left my office and headed toward the kiosks at Downtown Crossing, a street mall in an area near where Filene’s Basement once welcomed tourists and shoppers from the suburbs. Now carts lined the center of the street, each one loaded with scarves, hats, ties, flowers, and cheap jewelry.

I moved purposefully ahead through the crowds of shoppers, Slide at my heels. The carts were draped with Christmas lights, and the holiday music blared from outdoor speakers.

I turned to check on Slide. His thin face was pale and drawn. I felt his hand reach out for mine, and together we went along, inspecting each cart for something that he thought would be right for Carmen.

Slide tugged my hand when we got to the jewelry cart. He picked up a tiny silvertone pin in the shape of a tennis racquet, edged with blue enamel. “How much,” I asked the young woman behind the cart. “Fifteen,” she replied through a thick wad of chewing gum.

“Can you gift-wrap this for us,” I said.

Slide’s face showed a mixture of happiness and relief to have found the pin. He took the small box with its glossy paper and bright ribbon, and for the first time he seemed unafraid of the crowd and the noise. He held his hand out for his change, and he shoved it and the box into his jacket pocket.

“How about a hot chocolate?” I said.

He nodded, and we made our way through the shoppers to the Emack & Bolio’s on State Street.

We sat at a café table, and I watched Slide enjoying the marshmallow on top of his hot chocolate. He mashed it with his spoon to make it last longer. It was serious work.

I remembered how my dad and uncles would take me for a treat at the drugstore. I could still taste the hot fudge that got chewy on the melting scoop of vanilla ice cream.

When we had finished, we stood on the sidewalk to say our good-byes.

“Thanks for your help, Spenser,” Slide said. “I think Carmen will really love this, don’t you?”

“I do,” I said. “How did you get in here from Weston?” I asked. “And how are you going to get home?”

“Got a ride from one of the men at the farm,” Slide said. “They come in most days to run errands. Now I’ll go over to Street Business. Either Joe or Frankie will give me a ride back.”

I watched him melt into the crowd and disappear down the street. I wasn’t sure how I felt about an eleven-year-old boy negotiating the city streets on his own. I know I had done it myself, once upon a time. I could almost hear Hawk chiding me for being so soft. But that was different. It was Christmas in Boston. A boy should be able to travel these streets, as he had before. It was a time of peace and goodwill and all that. In a perfect world, the boy was heading for home, and parents watched for him at the window. Different times, indeed.

M
Y RED MESSAGE LIGHT
was blinking when I returned to my office. I looked at it for a moment and wondered if I could get a matching green light in the spirit of the holidays. Then I pushed the button. It was Healy. I called him back.

“Any news?” he said after answering.

“Happy holidays to you as well,” I said.

“Right,” he said. “Anything happening with Alvarez?”

“Well, Rita Fiore’s got a mean serve.”

“Very funny.”

I told him about the tennis event at the farm.

“So what did you learn about Alvarez?”

“He’s got twenty-four-hour security and a small but well-equipped arsenal out there. Carmen tells me he’s got a safe room under the stable, which is probably where he keeps the kind of paperwork that can earn him the horizontal stripes. She doesn’t think he’s getting ready to bolt, but she also says she hasn’t been close to him lately and wouldn’t know.”

“He wouldn’t take her with him?”

“No. She thinks he’d kill her instead because she knows too much.”

“Well, I’ve got word the Feds are sure Alvarez is about to blow town. Definitely by New Year’s, if not by Christmas.”

“Christmas? That’s two days away.”

“There’s a lot of chatter, lots of money moving around. People in motion,” Healy said. “All circumstantial at the moment. But if we’re going to nab him, it’s going to have to be soon. Which means that if Alvarez thinks he has some loose ends to tie, he’s going to act soon. You might want to let your friend Carmen know.”

I hung up, then dialed Carmen.

“Spenser,” she said. “I was just about to call you.”

“Are you okay?”

“Yes,” she said. “But something is happening here. Do you remember the dinner party I told you about? It’s still on, tonight instead of tomorrow. Juan just came by the stable to inform me. He was charming, but it was clear I was being instructed to attend, not invited.”

“What time is this all transpiring?”

“Cocktails at six-thirty. Dinner at seven-thirty.”

“Listen carefully, Carmen. The Feds believe Alvarez is about to disappear. If he means to do you harm, it will probably happen tonight. Right now you have two choices—run or stay. If you want to leave before the dinner, I’ll drive out now and pick you up. If you want to stay, I’ll bring some reinforcements with me and we’ll watch what happens. Maybe we can catch Juan in something that justifies an arrest. But if you stay, you’ll be putting yourself in danger.”

“I’m not afraid.” There was a pause. “Well, not much, anyway. I want to bring Juan to justice. My only concern right now is Slide. He’s in Boston, at Street Business. I’ll call Jackie and have him stay there tonight. If Slide’s safe, I will stay.”

I heard a low moan from the corridor. I looked up and saw a shadow pass in front of the frosted window on my office door. There was a loud thud against the door, and the shadow disappeared.

“Carmen,” I said, “I’ve got to go. I’ll be out to Weston in about an hour. Call me if anything happens before then.”

I put down the phone, slid open the desk drawer, and pulled out my gun. Then I walked over to the door, stood to the side, and listened. I heard what sounded like hoarse breathing in the corridor. I turned the knob, pulled open the door, and swung into the doorway in a modified Weaver stance.

Slide was sitting in a crumpled heap at my door. There was a deep cut on his forehead, starting just above his left eye. The eye was starting to swell, and the flesh around it already was starting to bruise. His nose was bloodied. By the way he was curled and holding his stomach, I could tell his ribs were bruised, if not broken.

I checked the corridor, then I squatted down next to him.

“Spenser,” he said, his right eye open just a slit.

“It’s okay, Slide. Don’t try to move.” I got down closer to his face. “You’re going to be okay.” He had been beaten, but nothing appeared to be broken. I scooped him up and carried him into the office and put him down on the sofa. Beneath the bulky peacoat, he was lighter than he should have been.

He shivered. I eased him out of the peacoat, then filled a basin with warm water. Using a clean cloth, I washed his face and hands as gently as I could, wiping away as much blood as possible. Other than the cut and the bloody nose, his head was fine, though the gash to the forehead caused a lot of bleeding. He’d have some bruises, and his body would be sore. I opened the first-aid kit I kept in my file cabinet and used gauze and tape to bandage his head. I thought he’d do okay without stitches.

I wrapped him in a blanket, and soon his shivering stopped. I made some hot tea at the boiling tap by my coffeepot and added four packets of sugar. I put a pillow behind his head and sat down next to him on the sofa, holding the mug out to him. “Come on, pal. This is good. Give it a try.”

He did tentative sips at first, then drained the mug. Color returned to his cheeks. “Spenser,” he said. “Jackie needs help.”

“Easy, Slide,” I said. “You all right to talk?”

He nodded.

“Tell me.”

Slide tried to shift toward me and winced slightly. I moved off the sofa and squatted directly in front of him.

“They came for Jackie and beat him up.” Very quietly, tears streaming down his face. “I think they may have killed him.”

“Okay, little man, hang on. Tell me what happened. From the beginning.”

“I go over to Street Business after I left you,” he said. “When I get there, I see Joe and Frankie talking to two guys out on the street in front of the house. Then the two guys go inside, and Joe and Frankie walk away.” He stopped and winced again. I filled the mug with water and helped him take a sip.

“Then what?”

“When I get inside, I see these guys yelling at Jackie. They’re kicking and punching him, and one of them has got the iron poker thing from the fireplace, and he’s whaling on Jackie. Jackie’s trying to fight back, but he can’t handle both of them.”

“So what did you do?”

“I ran in and tried to help him. But one of the guys starts kicking and hitting me. When I break free, Jackie says, ‘Get Spenser!’ Even though they punched me in the face, I got away. I ran right here.”

“What happened to Joe and Frankie?”

“They were there at first, but when the guys went into Street Business, they just disappeared.”

“Was anyone else around? Any of the other kids? Any of the other staff?”

“Not that I could see. It was just these two guys and Jackie.”

“Did you recognize the two guys? Had you seen them before?”

“No. Never.”

“Think hard, Slide. Maybe at Street Business? Maybe at the farm?”

Slide shook his head. “No, I never seen them before. They were both big, with lots of muscle. Hispanic guys.”

“Did you catch anything they said to Jackie?”

“No. They were shouting at him, but it wasn’t in English. I didn’t understand it.”

“Okay, good job,” I said. “You rest a minute. I need to make a phone call.”

Slide’s right eye grew wide, and he tried to stand up. “Please, Spenser, you’ve got to help Jackie. They hurt him bad.”

“I will,” I said. “Let’s get you taken care of first.”

I called Susan.

“Are you free right now?” I said. “I need your help.” I filled her in on Slide and Jackie.

“Are you calling the police?” she said.

“No. I want to get over to Street Business first. Right now I need to make sure Slide gets checked out. Then I need to find Jackie.” I looked at my watch. It was five past one. “And then I’ve got to get out to Weston. Alvarez may be on the move, and Carmen may be in danger.” I looked over at Slide. He was staring at me intently, but he was quiet. “All that paperwork can wait.”

“I’ll meet you at Mass General,” Susan said. “I’ll take care of Slide. Just tell me Hawk will be with you.”

“My next call,” I said.

H
AWK WAS AT THE
Harbor Health Club. I updated him on developments. “Meet me at Mass General emergency,” I said. “I think I want Vinnie in on this, too.”

“I’ll find him. Be there in fifteen minutes.”

I bundled up Slide in the blanket and headed out the door.

“Okay, little man. Let’s go get you fixed up. Then I’ll find Jackie.”

Susan, Hawk, and Vinnie Morris were waiting for me at the emergency entrance to Mass General. Hawk spoke with the triage nurse, who either knew him or wanted to know him, and she wheeled Slide inside, Susan at his side.

Hawk, Vinnie, and I drove over to Street Business in my car. On the way, I called Healy.

“The game’s afoot,” I said. I filled him in on the beatings. “If your sources are correct, and Alvarez is about to fly, tonight may be his opportunity to dispatch Carmen. Time for plan B.”

“Which is?”

“Hawk, Vinnie Morris, and I scope out the dinner party. If something happens, we move in and stave off disaster until you and your guys can come in. Can you meet me in Weston at six?”

“Not much of a plan,” Healy said.

“It’s all in the execution. And it’s all I got at the moment.” I hung up.

All was quiet at Street Business when we pulled up. We walked up the front steps and banged our way through the front door.

Joe and Frankie were in the sitting room to the right of the front door. Joe was sitting in an overstuffed chair, and Frankie was lounging on the sofa. Each had a cigarette in one hand and a Budweiser tallboy in the other.

“Hey, what do you want?” Frankie said. Both of them started to get up.

I decided that of the two, Frankie might be more useful to us. I walked to Joe without saying a word, grabbed his face in my right hand, and pushed him back down into the chair. Hawk and Vinnie stood on either side of Frankie.

“You might want to sit,” Hawk said to him. Frankie sat.

Joe struggled to stand up. I jabbed him on the nose with a quick right. Blood spurted as his hands went to his face. Beer splashed off the wood floor. He might have swallowed the cigarette. I grabbed him by the hair and yanked him over to Frankie’s sofa.

“Hey! Hey! What the fuck?” Joe said.

I stepped around the sofa and kicked him in the stomach. Then I picked him up with both hands and slammed him against a bookcase. He staggered for a moment, then fell, pulling the bookcase down on top of him.

“I see the rules have changed,” Hawk said.

I stood over Joe in a loose crouch. “A kid gets hurt,” I said, “the rules are different.”

We all turned to look at Frankie. He was squirming on the sofa, panic in his eyes.

“What do you want? What do you want?” He was almost screaming. “Don’t hurt me. I didn’t do nothing. I didn’t hurt no kid.”

“Where are the boys?” I said.

“Upstairs,” Frankie said. “They’re all locked in their rooms upstairs. They’re okay. Nobody hurt ’em.” His voice was rising in pitch, his words tumbling out.

“Where’s Jackie?”

“I don’t know,” Frankie said. “Honest to Christ, I don’t know. They took him away. When Joe and me got here, he was gone.”

I leaned in and slapped him across the face. He turned his head away. A trickle of blood formed on the side of his mouth.

“As you can probably surmise,” I said, “I have very little time to deal with you, and even less patience. So you’re going to tell us what happened here. You’re going to be clear and concise and complete. You’re going to tell us why you two geniuses let Jackie get beat up by a couple of thugs. You’re going to tell us where Jackie is. And you’re going to tell us why the residents of this safe house are locked in their rooms while you and Joe have a frat party down here. Got it?”

Frankie looked from me to Hawk to Vinnie. Hawk stared at him without emotion. Vinnie gazed outside the bay window out onto the street. Not a sympathetic audience. There was pure terror in Frankie’s face.

“Okay, okay,” he said. “It’s like this. Joe and I get a call from Mr. Alvarez. He says some guys are coming by, he wants them to talk to Jackie. He tells us to let the guys in, then take a walk for an hour. So that’s what we do. We let the guys in, and we get lost. When we get back, Jackie and the guys are gone. Then Mr. Alvarez calls and tells us to lock up the kids and wait for his orders. So we do that. We lock up the kids that are home, and we wait down here for the ones who are out to come back. When they do, we grab them and lock them upstairs, too. Then you guys show up.”

“Who were these guys? Men from the farm?”

Frankie shook his head. “No, not from the farm. Two big Hispanic guys I never seen before. Tattoos and shit. Scary guys.”

“What did Alvarez want the guys to talk to Jackie about?”

“I don’t know,” said Frankie. “Honest to God, I don’t know. He didn’t say, and you don’t ask Mr. Alvarez questions. You just do what he tells you.”

“You’ve been around here awhile. You have an educated guess what Mr. Alvarez would want them to talk with his brother about?”

Frankie rocked back and forth on the sofa. He shook his head from side to side. He swiveled his head to look at Joe. Then he looked back.

“Please, don’t make me do this.” Frankie was almost crying. “He’ll have me killed.”

“Who will?” I said. “Joey here? I don’t think he’s in any shape to do you much damage.”

“No!” Frankie started to wail. “Mr. Alvarez. I talk about his business, he’ll have me killed! Please!”

I slapped him twice to get his attention. “You don’t tell us, and the three of us are going to drag you up to the roof and bounce you off the sidewalk.”

“You don’t know Mr. Alvarez.” Frankie was pleading.

“You’re afraid of Alvarez? Look around you, Frankie. Alvarez isn’t here. We are. You might want to be more concerned about what we want.”

Hawk grunted. Vinnie continued to stare out the window, as if the deserted street held more interest than the drama unfolding in the room around him.

Frankie burst into open tears. I waited. He cried. I grabbed the neck of his sweatshirt, twisted it in my hand, and lifted him up off the sofa.

“I’m waiting,” I said softly. “But not much longer.” I let go, and he dropped back.

Frankie looked back again at Joe, who hadn’t stirred. Then he turned back to me and sniffed twice.

“Okay,” he said. “Okay.” He shook his head and gave a deep sigh.

“Mr. Alvarez hates Street Business. Wants to shut it down. It loses a ton of money, and he thinks someone will find out that it’s here and it’s not legal and the police will come, and Mr. Alvarez doesn’t want that kind of attention. But he can’t shut it down, because it’s important to Jackie and Mr. Alvarez promised his mama he’d support Jackie and he can’t go back on his promise. So he tries to buy Jackie out, but Jackie’s proud of this place and thinks he’s doing a good thing, and he says no. So then he tries to scare Jackie into giving up. He thinks Jackie is weak and will just give up if he’s threatened, so Mr. Alvarez hires some guys to cause trouble. Nothing serious, you know? Just push some of the kids around, take some of their money. Just enough to frighten Jackie.”

“But Jackie doesn’t get frightened,” I said.

“No,” said Frankie. He shook his head again. “Jackie grows a backbone, just at the wrong time. He won’t quit. He fights back. He asks Mr. Alvarez for more help, so Mr. Alvarez sends Joe and me to guard the place. And Jackie brings you in to make the threats stop.”

“Not knowing that his brother is the one causing the threats. Not knowing his security guards are working for the enemy.”

Frankie looked down and swallowed. He didn’t say anything.

“When did Alvarez decide that Street Business was a problem, and might attract the wrong attention? When did he decide to shut it down? Funny he gets a conscience all of a sudden.”

Frankie looked up at me, then shut his eyes tight, as though thinking caused him intense physical pain.

“I dunno,” he said. “Maybe a month or so ago?”

“Okay,” I said. “I’m going to ask you this just one more time. Where is Jackie now?”

Frankie recoiled and started to shake. Tears began running down his face.

“I told you, I don’t know!” He was shouting, his voice hoarse and filled with fear. “I’d tell you if I knew. Honest to Christ, I would. But I don’t. He just wasn’t here when Joe and me got back.”

I stood over him for a moment. He dropped his head and didn’t say anything else. I looked at Hawk. Hawk shrugged.

“Vinnie,” I said. “Will you entertain Frankie and Joe here while Hawk and I confer in the hall for a moment?”

Vinnie looked at Frankie without emotion.

“Sure,” he said.

Hawk and I walked out to the hallway.

“What do you think?” I said.

“Think you scared him,” Hawk said.

“Do you think he’s holding back anything from us?”

“I think he’s told us all he knows. Now what?”

I looked at my watch. It was almost three in the afternoon.

“We’ve got to get out to Weston. Time to call in the cavalry, I think.”