”Your usual bang-up job,“ Belson said.

”Maybe you should follow me around on this one,“ I said. ”Learn as you go.“

”For God’s sake,“ Jill said. ”Don’t you people realize what happened? That was meant for me. He thought Babe was me.“

”Who thought that?“ Belson said.

”There’s a man,“ Jill said. ”He’s been threatening me, saying terrible things. Now he’s done this. He thought Babe was me.“

”What’s his name?“ Belson said.

”I don’t know. That’s what he’s supposed to find out.“ Jill jerked her head at me. ”Only he hasn’t found out anything, and now he’s tried to kill me.“

”Spenser?“

”No, no. The man.“ Sandy Salzman came into the office wearing a down parka and moon boots. He went straight to Jill Joyce.

”Jill, honey, are you okay?“

”Better than Babe Loftus,“ I said.

”Oh my God, Babe,“ Salzman said. ”What happened?“

”We’re looking into that,“ Belson said.

”Are you the police?“

”I’m one of them,“ Belson said. He flipped out his shield. ”Belson,“ he said. ”Homicide.“

Salzman was holding Jill Joyce’s hand. She put her other hand over his and laid her head against his arm.

”Sandy, please, get me out of here,“ Jill said. Salzman looked at Belson.

Belson said, ”Where’s she going to go?“

”Charles Hotel,“ Salzman said.

”We can locate that,“ Belson said. ”We may want to talk with her.“

”I think we should have an attorney present,“ Salzman said.

”Of course,“ Belson said. ”Important person like her. Probably ought to have two or three present.“

”No need to be unpleasant,“ Salzman said. ”I just think with a star of Jill’s magnitude it’s prudent.“

Belson looked at me and something that might have been amusement showed for a moment in his thin face.

”This one’s going to be a good time,“ he said.

”I’m taking Miss Joyce to the hotel,“ Salzman said. ”Feel free to use my office.“

”You want Cambridge to send somebody over to keep an eye out?“ Belson said. ”Now that there’s a homicide involved.“

”Yes,“ Salzman said. ”And the hotel security staff is alerted.“

”Fine,“ Belson said. ”I’ll want Spenser for an hour or so.“

Salzman was already guiding Jill out of his office. She looked back at me.

”You’ll come, won’t you?“ she said. ”You’ll stay with me?“

”I’ll be along,“ I said.

They left the room. Belson got up and closed the door behind them and walked across to the big picture window and stood looking out at the snow. His cigar had gone out some time ago, as it almost always did. He lit it with a kitchen match that he scratched on the window sill. Outside the pleasant snow came steadily down. Belson turned from the window, folded his arms, leaned against the sill.

”What do you think?“ he said.

”I don’t know,“ I said. ”I haven’t known since I got involved. I never more than half believed there was really anyone harassing her.“

”Tell me about it,“ Belson said.

I did. When I was through Belson took the little cigar, now down to a stub, from his mouth and pursed his lips.

”This thing is going to be a hair ball.“ I nodded.

”M.E. show up yet?“ I said.

”Not while I was there. She looks to have been shot twice in the back with a big gun. Three fifty-seven maybe. Been dead awhile. No sign of a struggle. Nobody we’ve talked to so far has heard anything. Nobody so far knows why she would have been in here on a Sunday night.“

”Even if she were, why would the murderer be here?“ I said. ”If he was after Jill he wouldn’t expect to find her here.“

”Maybe he was after the victim, and maybe he came with her.“

”Or brought her,“ I said.

Belson had the cigar back in his mouth. He rolled it directly into the center of his mouth and talked around it.

”Why would he bring her?“

”Maybe it wasn’t mistaken identity,“ I said. ”Maybe it was a sign, just more harassment, like the hanged Jill Joyce doll.“

Belson nodded. ”Or maybe it’s all a fake. Maybe the whole Jill Joyce harassment is to make us think the wrong thing, and the murderer wanted to kill this stunt woman.“

”Babe Loftus,“ I said.

”Yeah.“

”Possible,“ I said. ”Kind of bizarre, though.“

”Like your scenario isn’t?“ Belson said.

I shrugged.

”Where’s Quirk?“ I said. ”This is a hot enough squeal to bring him out.“

Belson showed no expression. He had one of those permanent five o’clock shadows that no razor could successfully obliterate.

”Command staff meeting,“ Belson said. ”Strategies for improving police /community interface.“

”Honest to God?“ I said.

”Honest to God.“

Chapter 14

JILL looked at Hawk the way a mackerel eyes a minnow.

”Well,“ she said as Hawk walked across the Quiet Bar at the Charles. He had on black cowboy boots and an ankle-length black leather trench coat. The coat was open, the collar up, and a black turtleneck showed at the throat. His skin was maybe half a shade lighter than the leather coat, and his smooth head gleamed in the bar’s indirect lighting.

”You just wear those boots to be taller than me,“ I said.

”Taller than you anyway,“ Hawk said.

”Are not,“ I said.

”Better-looking, too,“ Hawk said.

”Aren’t you going to introduce us?“ Jill Joyce said. I did. Jill was sitting on a couch quietly, but as she looked at Hawk she seemed somehow to wiggle without moving.

”Well,“ she said, ”aren’t you something.“

”Un huh,“ Hawk said.

He sat on the couch beside Jill. The waitress appeared eagerly.

”Laphroig,“ Hawk said, ”straight, in a lowball glass.“

”Yes, sir,“ the waitress said and hurried off on her mission. She placed her order at the service end of the bar and glanced back at Hawk while she waited.

”Why didn’t you tell me about him,“ Jill said to me.

”I did. I told you he would look out for you while I was away and that he was almost as good as I was, and better than anyone else.“

”But you didn’t mention…“ Jill spread her hands in a voilá gesture at Hawk.

”She means you didn’t tell her about me being a sexual icon.“

”You’re right,“ I said. ”I didn’t tell her that.“

”Are you almost as good as he is?“ Jill said. Like most things she said, it was larded with innuendo.

”Better,“ Hawk said.

”Really?“ Jill’s eyes were wide and excited. ”The other day he knocked down a great tall man, bing! bing! just like that.“ Jill made two darling little punching movements.

”Just like that?“ Hawk said.

”More or less,“ I said.

The waitress brought Hawk’s scotch and another white wine for Jill. They had learned her habits here and seemed to have mastered the technique of keeping her glass filled.

”Can you do that?“ Jill asked. She smiled at him, a TV Guide cover smile, over the rim of her wineglass and drank a bit.

”Don’t know about bing! bing!“ Hawk said.

Jill reached over and squeezed Hawk’s biceps. A moment of genuine surprise popped for only a moment into her eyes before the flirty TV-star cuteness slipped back in place.

”Whooooa,“ she said. Hawk stared at me.

”Pay’s excellent,“ I said.

Hawk nodded.

”Good to remember that,“ he said.

Jill slugged back most of the rest of her wine.

”So here’s how it’s going to work,“ I said. ”Hawk will take care of you at work and to and from. Cambridge P.D. will have a car here from six at night to six in the morning. Hotel security will watch your room. They’ll be connected to the prowlies by radio.“

”Prowlies?“ Jill said. She was glancing toward the bar. The waitress started toward her with another glass of wine, and I could see the tension ease as Jill spotted her.

”Police car,“ I said.

The waitress put the wine down. Jill picked it up, took a genteel sip.

”You want to go out nights, or whatever, you arrange it with Hawk.“