anything wrong, sir?“
”Not with the meal,“ I said, ”but my friend is ill. I think we’d better have the check.“
”Yes, sir,“ she said. ”I’m very sorry.“
She was prompt with the check. I paid it. She went away and brought back the change. I tipped her.
”Thank you, sir,“ she said. ”I hope that your friend feels better soon.“
I shrugged. ”The ways of the Lord,“ I said, ”are often dark, but never pleasant.“
She frowned slightly, and took her tip and went away.
Chapter 7
When Alexander came out of the men’s room he looked very pale but his eyes were dry for the moment and he seemed back under control.
I said, ”Let’s take a walk.“
He nodded. We walked up Fort Street. It was dark out and rainy now, but not very cold. I had on my leather trench coat and Alexander was wearing a poplin raincoat. The rain was light and not bothersome. Under other circumstances, in fact, it would have been good rain to walk in. Romantic. There were construction and demolition projects all around the lower Main Street area. Silent construction equipment gleamed in the rain, but not many people walked around. We turned up Main Street toward the Civic Center. Alexander had his hands in his pockets, his head bent, looking at the sidewalk as he walked. He wore a checked hat like Bear Bryant.
I said, ”This is awful. I understand that. But I didn’t bring it up. If I’m going to help you with this, we have to talk about it.“
Alexander said, ”I know.“
We passed Bay State West. There were a lot of people in the mall buying things. Recreational shopping.
I said, ”I can fix this for you. Not all of it. Not what it feels like, but the other part. I can take care of the blackmail.“
Alexander nodded. We passed Johnson’s, its facade a dark green, the name in gold letters. A municipal bus stopped, let some people off, and moved on downtown.
”It was mailed to my home,“ Alexander said. ”In Fitchburg. A videotape. VHS format. No return address, Boston postmark.“ We turned into Court Square, walking past the City Hall complex with its tower. There was a small park in the middle of the square. I was quiet. He had started. I knew he’d finish.
”I have a recorder, VHS. I played it one night while Ronni was out.“
We turned left at the far end of the square. The closed end. Beyond was expressway. Beyond the expressway, the river, adding its damp smell to the rainy night.
”The film showed Ronni having sex with a young man in what appeared to be an apartment. It was apparent that she didn’t know of the taping.“
At the open end of Court Square, across Main Street, the Civic Center was glowing and bright. Its lights glistened off the wet buildings. The right kind of rain makes everything look good. Even the color-coded parking garage seemed attractive in the soft autumn rain.
”It was also apparent that it was Ronni. No possible mistake. I did not recognize the young man.“
We turned right again, back onto Main Street, and kept walking, away from the hotel. I wasn’t wearing a hat. My hair was wet. Reflections of the traffic lights shimmered on the wet pavement. ”Have you discussed this with her?“ I said.
”No. She doesn’t know. She’s not to know. Ever. It would break her heart if she knew.“
”I can’t be delicate about this,“ I said. ”The whole thing is indelicate. There’s no way around it. I have to ask questions.“
”Yes,“ he said. ”Go ahead.“
”You’re persuaded that this is not a porno film, that is, something she posed for?“
”I’m sure that it is not deliberately posed.“
”People don’t just stroll around with videotape cameras,“ I said. ”Someone set this up.“
Alexander nodded.
”The room had to have enough light,“ I said.
”It was daylight mostly,“ Alexander said. ”One wall of the room was glass and it was bright daylight. The drapes were open.“
”Do you… has she… is there a way to narrow this down?“ I
Missy Tippens, Jean C. Gordon, Patricia Johns