Robert B. Parker’s the Hangman’s Sonnet

Jesse explained about how, during the press conference at town hall, the guilt and grief had crept back in, how Nita’s looks and manner had reminded him of Abby, of Abby’s murder. He explained how that started a chain reaction that resulted in him reliving Diana’s death. He talked about how he had guzzled himself into oblivion. He recounted how Molly and Alisha had probably saved his job.

“Do you think your drinking is selfish?” Dix asked again.

“Yes.”

“That’s always the easy part.”

Jesse furrowed his brow. “What is?”

“Recognition.”

“What’s the hard part?”

Dix laughed. “Deciding what to do about it.”

44

Hump had done what King asked in his note and hadn’t ventured out of the motel room for the last few days. It was easy enough. Flush with his seven grand cash, he’d ordered in Chinese food and pizza, but only from places that had Pepsi bottles or cans. He was pretty sure some chick at a Chinese takeout place had cursed at him after he told her to skip the order if they didn’t sell Pepsi. She kept telling him “Only Coke. Only Coke,” her voice getting louder and louder until she was screaming at him, “Only Coke!”

Looking in the mirror now, finger-combing his hair after getting out of the shower, he thought that she wouldn’t have screamed at him if he was standing right in front of her. No, she woulda shut her stupid mouth and offered to go next door to the deli and buy him some Pepsi. Woulda paid for it, too. And he had also splurged on some movies. He had watched some of them three times. He liked the one about the guy trapped on Mars. He liked that one a lot. When you’ve been inside, been in solitary, you understand what that’s like. Except that inside, hope runs out before the bad food. He also watched some skin flicks. He didn’t like them as much because they only frustrated him. He had a better chance of getting trapped on Mars than getting to be with any of them girls. Then he looked at the wad of cash on the dresser and realized that even a guy with a face like his could get anything with enough money.

Hump clicked on the TV, figuring he’d lay low for one more day and then move on. He could go a long way on what was left of his seven grand. Plus he still had some of his release money stashed away. He thought about where he might go. He thought about going someplace hot and dry, someplace where it didn’t rain a lot. He didn’t like rain. Hated it. It was always bleak inside, but there were times the rain darkened the place so, he thought about killing himself or killing someone else just to make the rain in his head go away. He wanted to get as far from the rain as he could get. Tomorrow, he thought, when he left this dump, he’d get himself some maps of the Southwest, buy himself a bus ticket, and just go. But first he had to see about selling the dragonfly ring.

He pulled out the drawer, grabbed his bundled-up white socks, and carefully pulled them apart. He slid his hand down into one of the socks, the one with the tear above the ankle, and felt for the ring. Inside, you learn about how and where to hide things. You also learn to hide how you feel. It was always safer to never give away your feelings. You never wanted the other guys to know what you were thinking, but Hump couldn’t hide the smile when he felt the ring there where he had left it. He held it up to the light as he did each time he looked at it. It was a beautiful thing to behold. He imagined it on a woman’s red-tipped finger, the long tail of the dragonfly curling around her pale skin. The four jewel-encrusted wings spreading slightly across her pinkie and middle fingers. He hadn’t ever had much beauty in his life and had certainly never had beautiful things.

Watching it sparkle in the light, he thought he might not fence it. He wanted to have one precious thing to hold on to, even if it was a fancy lady’s ring that he couldn’t wear or show to anyone. He knew that even the best deal he would get would only make him pennies on the dollar. Maybe less, because besides the big diamonds that were the dragonfly’s eyes, he had no idea about what kind of stones were in the setting. Rubies, sapphires, and emeralds, he figured. But even if they were, so what? He didn’t know what they were worth, didn’t know what the diamonds were worth. The gold setting had some value, though that was the least of it. He placed the ring back into the sock, bundled the socks back together. And placed the bundle back in the drawer.