‘Do you still have the chain?’
‘Time’s up,’ said the caller, and the phone went dead for the third time.
Moxie used the interruption to call out to his secretary.
‘Get Parker on the line, then put the next call on speaker at your end so he can listen in on his cell phone. I want him to hear this.’
But the phone did not ring again.
68
The Principal Backer did not leave the Colonial Club immediately after the conclusion of his lunch. Instead he took his time, and read the newspapers, before making some calls. As in so many other matters, the Colonial had strict rules governing the use of cell phones and other such devices in its environs. This was one of the benefits of membership as far as the Principal Backer was concerned, the world outside the club’s walls being increasingly inimical to silence, or even good manners, when it came to electronic communications.
The Principal Backer supposed a significant backlash against the ubiquity of cell phones would occur in time, and it was one that he was in the process of accelerating through investments. He was the main investor in a proposed chain of boutique coffee shops that would forbid the making or receiving of cell phone calls, and required headphones to be worn by those who insisted on watching movies or videos on their screens. The idea had come to him following a trip to Russia, where he was involved in a meeting at a Moscow restaurant that maintained just such a ban, and required all phones to be deposited with the hostess at the door. In the event of a call being received by a customer, a messenger was dispatched to the table to inquire if the guest wished to take it, in which case he or she was invited to step into a booth in order to ensure that no one else was disturbed by the ensuing conversation. The Principal Backer was optimistic that his modest risk would pay off both financially and in terms of providing him with another refuge from the discourteous.
Now, in one of only two rooms in the Colonial in which it was permissible to use a phone – discreetly, and at minimal volume – the Principal Backer convened a conference call to give two of his closest associates a précis of his conversation with Quayle.
‘Can we be sure he won’t target Parker?’ asked the first, her voice echoing slightly over her Bluetooth speaker.
‘I made myself as clear as possible on that score.’
‘Which is no guarantee of good behavior.’
‘The difficulty is that Parker’s path has crossed Quayle’s. A confrontation between them may be unavoidable.’
‘Then let’s hope Quayle finds what he’s looking for, and leaves before that occurs.’
‘It seems,’ the second Backer noted, ‘that we are going to considerable inconvenience and expense to facilitate Quayle, and all we seem likely to get in return is aggravation.’
‘I have made Quayle aware of the price for our assistance,’ said the Principal Backer.
‘Which is?’ asked the woman, this being news to her.
‘We have engaged,’ said the Principal Backer, ‘the services of his tame murderess.’
From her vehicle, Mors watched the limousine pull up on Commonwealth Avenue. Moments later the Principal Backer appeared at the door of the club, his coat over one arm, and walked slowly down the steps to where a driver waited by one of the car’s rear doors.
‘What do you want me to do about him?’ she asked.
‘Nothing,’ said Quayle, from the back seat. ‘For now. And we’ll expedite his request for our help, unless you have any objections?’
‘None, but I can tell that you’re concerned. Has he lost faith?’
‘I think he’s frightened.’
‘Of what?’
‘Of all that is to come.’
Mors turned her head slightly so that she could see Quayle’s reflection in the rearview mirror.
‘When you die,’ she said, ‘I will die too. I don’t want to stay here alone.’
‘I’m touched,’ said Quayle, but he did not look at her as he spoke.
‘Don’t be cruel,’ she said, ‘not to me.’
And Quayle thought that in another life, he might almost have cared for her.
69
Parker was sitting in Moxie Castin’s office. The lawyer had recorded each of the conversations with the man who claimed to have buried Jane Doe, and had now played them twice for Parker.
‘Mainer, and probably local to Piscataquis,’ said Parker, confirming Castin’s own belief. ‘But we figured that from the location of the grave.’
‘And it sounds like he has the child, or knows where the boy is.’
‘He has him. He wouldn’t be calling otherwise.’
‘Which means he’s worried,’ said Moxie. ‘Do you think it might lead to harm?’
‘If our guy is telling the truth, it was the mother’s last request that he should take care of her son. Why hurt the child now? If he were going to do that, he wouldn’t have bothered calling you. I’m not even sure why he called you to begin with.’
‘It’s hardly secret knowledge that you’re looking into this, and you’ve been on TV in connection with the case. You’ve worked for me in the past, so it wouldn’t take much to realize that I might be involved, or could serve as a conduit. My guess is he wants to cut a deal, and it might go easier for him if he makes the first approach instead of waiting for the cops – or you – to come knocking on his door.’
‘I wonder if he’s married,’ said Parker.
‘Sounds like it. He did say “we,” so he is, or was, in some kind of relationship.’
‘Hard to give up a child you’ve raised since birth.’
‘Maybe he’s hoping it won’t come to that.’
‘What are the chances?’
‘Slim.’
‘Even with you on their side?’
‘Even then.’
‘That’s not what he’ll want to hear if he calls back.’
‘That’s why I won’t tell him,’ said Castin. ‘And he will call back. You can be sure of it.’
The sun was setting, and Parker was tired. He’d left a message for Leila Patton after saying goodbye to Molly Bow, but so far she hadn’t returned the call. He hoped Patton wasn’t reconsidering. He didn’t want to have to travel to Indiana to chase her down, and that was assuming she had anything useful to offer. But he’d traveled greater distances on thinner pretexts, and sometimes it paid off.
‘How are we going to handle the police?’ he asked.
‘We need to draw in our mystery caller, and that requires trust,’ said Moxie. ‘I’m not going to feed him to the cops until I hear his side of the story.’
‘At least he confirmed the name Molly Bow’s contact came up with.’
‘Karis,’ said Moxie, testing the sound of it. ‘I don’t think I’ve ever known a woman called Karis.’
‘I think you’ve known enough women for one lifetime.’
‘My problem was I married most of them. I got alimony like the national debt.’
‘Tragic,’ said Parker. ‘We should make the call to Corriveau about the Karis lead.’
‘You want to do it?’
‘No, I think you should. If you offer all the assistance you can up front, it might stand to us when you eventually convince our guy to come in with the boy. I know I’ll be hearing from Corriveau anyway, once she’s spoken to you.’
Moxie folded his hands over his belly. His suit, shirt, and tie were silk, and all were certainly expensive, yet they looked terrible on him. Parker had known Moxie Castin for years, and he still wasn’t sure whether the lawyer deliberately selected garments that were incompatible with his build, or the cut of any clothing began to deteriorate immediately upon contact with him. It was, Parker surmised, one of life’s great mysteries.
‘And you’re worried about Maela Lombardi,’ said Moxie.