He took a sip of his whisky and bared his teeth at the taste, like a rat testing the air.
‘Is your investigation ongoing?’ he asked.
‘It is.’
‘Are you likely to be a continuing presence in Pastor’s Bay as a consequence?’
‘Probably.’
‘How convinced are you that your client’s interests are not connected to the Anna Kore case?’
I paused. The bargaining was about to begin.
‘Uncertain.’
‘That’s not what you told Detective Walsh.’ He practically wagged his finger at me and added ‘tut-tut.’
‘I’ve modified it since then. That’s why I used the past tense when you brought the subject up earlier. I had no reason to believe there was a connection. I’ve become more open-minded since then.’
‘On what basis?’
‘Pastor’s Bay is a small town. My client’s difficulties are, well, personal rather than professional in nature. They pertain to an incident in his youth. I’m starting to think that it might be wise for him to approach the police about them. By doing so, he may at least rule out one avenue of investigation for you, and perhaps even point you in a useful direction. But I base that only on a dislike of coincidence, and nothing more.’
‘Have you made this opinion known to the client and, indeed, to his lawyer?’
‘My change in position is relatively recent, but I feel that both would be inclined to listen to me, and to act on my advice, if I made it known.’ I’d been hanging out too much with Aimee Price. I sounded like an attorney. ‘There is also the matter of ensuring that the client’s right to confidentiality is respected, and his safety is assured.’
‘Why would his safety be in question?’
‘A young girl is missing. There are newspaper reporters around, and TV cameras. Sometimes people jump to conclusions.’
‘We’re talking to a lot of people. Their faces haven’t appeared on TV, or in the papers. No harm has come to them. Local residents have been interviewed, and no suspicion has fallen on them among their neighbors.’
‘Well, maybe it’s not the locals that concern me.’
Engel bared his teeth again, but this time there was no whisky involved.
‘What do you know?’ he said.
‘I know that there’s a connection between Anna Kore and Tommy Morris, late of Somerville, and possibly an associate of “the Hill.”’
‘Well, well. You have been busy.’
‘You gave it away by your presence in Pastor’s Bay. You should have worn a mask.’
‘Noted,’ said Engel. ‘Anna’s his niece, as you may or may not be aware by now. Valerie Kore, née Morris, is Tommy Morris’s significantly younger sister and only sibling. He took care of her after their parents died in a car accident when she was four, assisted by assorted aunts and relatives, but they’ve been estranged for a long time.’
‘Ever since someone put Ronald Doheny in the ground, and then forgot where he was buried?’
Engel shrugged. ‘Doheny was a runner for Morris, who was trying to carve out his own patch after Whitey went on the run. Doheny screwed up. He was a loudmouth, he crossed a customer, and the aggrieved customer sold him out to the cops. He was facing a long stretch inside, and pressure was put on him to cut a deal and turn informant. He made bail, then vanished. Missing, presumed crab food.’
‘Did Morris know that Doheny was seeing his sister?’
‘Not at first, but it didn’t take him long to find out who had impregnated her. At that point, he probably wanted to kill Doheny, but would have settled for him doing the right thing.’
‘And then Doheny gets pinched, and someone decides that he’s unreliable and needs to be silenced.’
‘Tommy Morris killed him, or had him killed. That’s what we heard, although the killing would have been sanctioned from higher up. Soon after, his sister left Boston. She drifted around, but she kept straight. She is, by all accounts, a good citizen. No drugs, no booze, no contact with her brother and his people. She worked in Philly for a while, met a guy there, married him on the quiet. Her brother didn’t know.’
‘Alekos Kore.’
‘Right again. They’re now separated, but she hasn’t sought a divorce.’
‘She wanted to hold on to his name,’ I said. ‘If her brother comes looking for her, she’d be Valerie Kore, not Valerie Morris. It wouldn’t keep her safe if he started digging, but it would be enough to evade casual inquiries.’
‘Even if he did find her, and we think he’s been keeping tabs on her, psychologically she’d left the Morris name behind.’
‘And you knew who she was because you’d been keeping tabs on her all this time.’
‘That’s right.’
‘Does her brother know that his niece is missing?’
‘Her brother is in trouble. He’s made some bad business decisions, and we’ve been fortunate in some of our efforts against him. His days are numbered.’
‘You haven’t answered the question. Does Tommy Morris know?’
I could feel that Engel wanted to look away, but he managed not to break his gaze. Still, he was a mass of ‘tells.’ Engel was concealing truths.
‘We’ve tried to keep the girl’s relationship to Morris quiet, and her mother says that she hasn’t been in contact with him.’
‘Do you believe her?’
‘We did at the start. Now we’re not so sure. She’s desperate, perhaps desperate enough to turn to her brother for help.’
‘So he knows?’
‘He knows. Do you read the papers? A man named Joseph Toomey, known to his friends as Joey Tuna, was found shot to death in a fish market in Dorchester yesterday. One of his employees left his car keys at work, went back to retrieve them, and saw the office light burning. There was a lot of blood. Two shots, fatal but not immediately so – he’d been left to die. Joey was the ambassador for the Irish mob in Boston. He was the go-between, the kingmaker, the problem solver. He was untouchable. On the surface, he was neutral. In reality, he sided with the status quo; all that mattered was the efficient running of business, which was good for everybody. As Tommy Morris became more of a liability, he threatened that stability. A decision was made that it might be best if he were to keep Ronald Doheny company, except Tommy went to ground. Most of his men have abandoned him, but he still has a couple of loyal followers. They met with Joey on the day of his killing. Apparently, they wanted to know if he had sanctioned the kidnapping of Anna Kore in order to draw her uncle out. Joey denied it. Then he was killed.’
‘You know who pulled the trigger?’
‘Officially, no. Unofficially, we believe it was Tommy Morris himself.’
‘Unusual. You’d think he’d palm off a job like that to his people.’
This time, a response flickered. It was like the briefest ripple on the surface of an otherwise smooth pond where an unseen creature had flicked a fin. There was something there, something interesting.
‘I told you, he doesn’t have many people left,’ said Engel. ‘It could be that it was personal for him. The ones who’ve been around for a while, they learn to bury their feelings deep. They hold on to the grudges, then wait for a time when they’re justified in making a move.’
‘You seem very well informed. You have a wire somewhere?’
‘We have lots of wires. That’s why we’re the Federal Bureau of Investigation, not the Local Bureau of Supposition.’ He was settled again. That brief flash of uncertainty was gone. ‘It’s also why, if you’re concerned for the safety of your client, we can guarantee that he’ll be looked after. We can put men on him, or move him out of town for a while. It is a “he,” right?’
I did a little cheek-puffing and imitation weighing up of potentially grave consequences, then allowed that the client was indeed male.
‘He doesn’t want to leave town,’ I said. ‘In fact, that’s something of a deal breaker for him. He has a nice life in Pastor’s Bay. He wants to hold on to it. And I don’t want federal agents on him. Half the people in here probably smelled you as law the minute you arrived, and the other half didn’t have to because they were lawmen themselves. If someone like Tommy Morris is going to be sniffing around this, then I want as little attention as possible drawn to our client. If it comes down to that, I’ll look after his protection myself.’
‘You sure about that?’
The straight line became a jagged scar: a smile, assuming you didn’t look for warmth or reassurance in a smile, or anything resembling a decent human emotion.
‘Go on. I’m listening.’
‘Tommy Morris has left the reservation, and we believe he’s heading this way.’
‘All the more reason to keep my own client safely off the board.’
‘It’s your call. When can we expect to talk with this elusive gentleman?’
‘I want more.’
‘Really?’
‘I want freedom to investigate on his behalf. In return, I’ll share any information of relevance with Walsh.’
‘He won’t like you being on his turf. Neither will Allan.’
‘They’ll just have to hold their noses.’
‘I’ll talk with them and see what I can do.’
‘I’m sure you can convince them, you silver-tongued devil, you.’
‘And in return we get access to your client?’
‘I’ll get in touch with his lawyer.’
‘That shouldn’t be hard, since she just walked through the door.’
I turned and spotted Aimee. She hesitated when she saw that I was with someone. I beckoned her forward, and introduced her.
‘Aimee, this is Special Agent Robert Engel of the FBI’s Boston field office. Special Agent Engel, Aimee Price. Special Agent Engel likes to be called “Special Agent Engel,” Aimee. It’s a matter of some pride.’