Robert B. Parker’s the Hangman’s Sonnet

“What does it mean?” White threw up his hands. “It means that whoever had the poem also has the tape. We were told by the police never to divulge that to the public. But both things were stolen at the same time. Terry, God bless him, always kept this poem in the studio for inspiration during the recording sessions. And one day, poof, both went missing.”

Nita asked, “Jesse, why do you think the poem was sent to Roscoe Niles?”

“Because whoever has the tape is frustrated by the lack of coverage he’s received. I suppose he hoped Roscoe Niles would read the poem on the air and blow this whole thing wide open. Let’s be clear, it’s going to come out. He’s got the tape and he wants to auction it off to the highest bidder.”

Bascom didn’t like it. “The guy’s a murderer.”

“Probably,” Jesse said. “But we’d have to catch him and then we’d have to tie the murders to the tape and him to the murders. Sounds simple enough, but all we’ve got at the moment is speculation and circumstantial evidence. We’re going to have to play this thing out or we’ll lose him.”

“Chief, you can’t be serious,” Mayor Walker said.

“Deadly serious. Right now, he’s holding fifty-one of the fifty-two cards in the deck. The only card we have to play is that he seems to want to do this with a big splash of publicity to create a bidding war for the tape. If we play it tough and refuse to negotiate, he’ll take the tape off-shore and sell it to a foreign buyer who lives in a country less concerned about intellectual property rights than we are. He may get a smaller deal that way, but he’ll have his money and disappear, Stan and Terry Jester will be screwed again, and we’ll have two unresolved homicides.”

“Jesse’s right, Mayor Walker,” Stan said. “In places like China, they don’t care too much about copyrights.”

Bascom nodded in agreement.

“If we play it out,” Jesse said, “he may get cocky and overconfident. That breeds sloppiness, and, remember, at some point the tape and the money will have to change hands. That may be our one chance.”

Mayor Walker asked everyone but Jesse and Nita to leave.

“You’re taking an awfully big risk here, Jesse,” Nita said after the other three had gone. “The problem is, the biggest risk isn’t yours to take.”

Walker waved the copy of the sonnet at Jesse. “It’s my neck, pardon the expression, you’ll be putting in the noose if this goes wrong. If this man doesn’t get sloppy and gets away with it, I’ll look like a fool for letting it happen. And firing your ass won’t placate anyone but me.”

“And if we don’t play it out, we’ll have two open murder cases. What do I tell my cops and the people of Paradise about that? That your career is more important than catching the bad guy? Should I tell them justice is a political equation?” Jesse said, pulling a book off a shelf behind the mayor’s desk and placing it on her desk. “My job is to do right by the people of this town, not by your career.”

She didn’t bother looking at the book. “What’s this?”

“It’s a dictionary, Connie. Look up the words public and servant. We’re supposed to serve the citizens of Paradise, not the other way around. You want to fire me, fire me now. Or maybe I’ll resign and lay it all at your doorstep.”

Mayor Walker stepped close to Jesse. “You wouldn’t!”

“He would, Your Honor,” Nita said, stepping between them. “Don’t underestimate him.”

Jesse turned so that they couldn’t see his smile. “Let me know your decision, Connie. Until I hear otherwise, I’ll be doing my job.”

65

Jesse stopped at the donut shop and then went straight to the station. He’d hoped to catch up with Stan White and Bella Lawton after leaving the mayor’s office. He’d missed them and decided it would be better if he spoke to them separately.

Molly had a grin on her face when he came through the station door. Jesse barely noticed. He was preoccupied with Stan White’s reaction to the news about the sonnet. Sure, Jester’s manager had smiled a big smile when he saw the copy of the poem, but Jesse had expected much more. After all, White and Jester stood to make millions once the tape was recovered and the legalities were sorted out.

Molly didn’t wait for Jesse to ask. “I think I’ve got something.”

“A summer cold?”

“You’re an ass.”

“Sorry. I’ve got a lot on my mind.” He held the box open to her. “Donut?”

“I shouldn’t.”

“Why do women always say that?”

“Because women are judged differently than men.”

“How many times have I told you that you would have been a great cop anywhere you chose?”

“That’s not what I mean and you know it,” she said, looking up at him. “Suit can put on twenty pounds and you wouldn’t see him any differently. You can’t say that would be true of me. Diana used to talk to me about not being taken seriously at the Bureau because she was beautiful. Women always have to walk a fine line between looking good enough and not looking too good.” When she saw Jesse’s grim face, she realized what she’d said. “Oh, Jesse, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bring up—”