Cold Service - By Robert B. Parker Page 0,1

of his look made Tony Marcus flinch.

"I'm sorry, man," Tony said. "I take that back."

Hawk said, "Yeah."

"I tellin' Hawk he ought to let me put a couple people in here, protect him. Until he's on his feet again."

"Nobody got any reason to follow up," Hawk said. "They done what they set out to do."

"I think that's right," I said.

Tony shrugged.

" 'Sides," Hawk said. "Vinnie's been in and out. Susan's been here. Lee Farrell. Quirk and Belson, for chrissake. There's been a steady parade of good-looking women worrying where I'd been hit. Plus, I got a phone call from that Chicano shooter in L.A."

"Chollo?" I said.

"Yeah. He say I need a hand he'll come east."

"See that," I said. "I told you that warm and sunny charm would pay off in friendship and popularity."

"Must be," Hawk said.

"Well," Tony Marcus said, "I got a vast criminal enterprise to oversee. I'll be off. You need something, Hawk, you give me a shout."

Hawk nodded.

"Say so long to Ty Bop for me," I said.

"He try to bite you when you came in?" Tony said.

"No."

"See that," Tony said. "He like you."

After Tony left, I sat with Hawk for about an hour. We talked a little. But a lot of the time we were quiet. Neither of us had any problem with quiet. I looked at the Hancock Tower; Hawk lay back with his eyes closed. I had known Hawk all my adult life, and this was the first time, even in repose, that he didn't look dangerous. As I looked at him now, he just looked still. When it was time to go, I stood.

"Hawk," I said softly.

He didn't open his eyes.

"Yeah?" he said.

"Got to go."

"Do me a favor," he said with his eyes closed.

"Yeah."

"Have a drink for me," he said.

"Maybe two," I said.

Hawk nodded slightly without opening his eyes.

I put my hand on his shoulder for a moment, took it away, and left.

3

I WAS IN my office having a cup of coffee and looking up Ukraine on the Internet. Like most of the things I looked up on the Internet, there was less there than met the eye. But I did learn that Ukraine was a former republic of the Soviet Union, now independent. And that kartoplia was Ukrainian for potato. I knew if I kept at it I could find a Ukrainian porn site. But I was spared by the arrival of Martin Quirk in my office, carrying a paper bag. "Did you know that kartoplia means potato in Ukrainian?" I said.

"I didn't," Quirk said. "And I don't want to."

I pointed at my Mr. Coffee on top of the file cabinet.

"Fresh made yesterday," I said. "Help yourself."

Quirk poured some coffee.

"You got donuts in the bag?" I said.

"Oatmeal-maple scones," Quirk said.

"Scones?"

"Yep."

"No donuts?"

"I'm a captain," Quirk said. "Now and then I like to upgrade."

"How do you upgrade from donuts?" I said.

Quirk put the bag on the desk between us. I shrugged and took a scone.

"Got to keep my strength up," I said.

Quirk put his feet up on the edge of my desk and munched on his scone and drank some coffee.

"Two days ago," Quirk said, "couple of vice cops are working a tavern in Roxbury, having reason to believe it was a distribution point for dope and/or whores."

The maple-oatmeal scone wasn't bad, for a non-donut. Outside my window, what I could see of the Back Bay had an authentic gray November look with a strong suggestion of rain not yet fallen.

"So the vice guys are sipping a beer," Quirk said. "And keeping an eye out, and two white guys come in and head for the back room. There's something hinky about these guys, aside from being the only white men in the room, and one of the vice guys gets up and goes to the men's room, which is right next to the back room."

Quirk was not here for a chat. He had something to tell me and he'd get to it. I ate some more scone. The oatmeal part was probably very healthy.

"The guy in the men's room hears some sounds that don't sound good, and he comes out and yells to his partner, and in they go to the back room with their badges showing and guns out," Quirk said. "The tavern owner's had his throat cut. The two white guys are heading out. One of them makes it, but the vice guys get hold of the other one and keep him."

"Tavern owner?" I said.

"Dead before they got there; his head was almost off."

"And the