THERE WAS NO point in refusing, any more than I would have refused Junior and Ty Bop when they showed up at my house and started this whole thing.
There was a faint scent in the backseat of what I thought might be cinnamon. But I was about as conversant in men’s colognes, even Spike’s, as I was tractor pulls.
“You could have called.”
“Where’s the fun in that?” he said.
“Where are we going?” I said.
He smiled. “Like I said. For a ride.”
Sometimes it was just easier to go along. It occurred to me that that attitude wasn’t vastly different from the one held by the women I had just visited. Another thing for me to discuss with Dr. Silverman.
“Have you been following me?” I said.
“Why would I?” he said.
“Maybe you think I could lead you to Lisa,” I said.
“You’re the one looking for her, not me.”
“Ask you another question?”
“Ask away.”
“Did you break into my house?”
“Why would I break into your house? I barely know you.”
“Maybe you want to find Lisa even though you say you don’t,” I said.
“Didn’t break into your house,” he said. “But I might be more interested in talking to Lisa Morneau than I previously indicated.”
“To make her another offer?” I said.
“An even better one,” he said. “You hear all over town that she is Tony’s other brain. I believe that’s the expression? I would like to know what she knows. Hurt his business, help mine, win-win.”
We had made our way past the Colonnade Hotel on Huntington.
“As a matter of fact,” he said, “been thinking about hiring you as well.”
I angled myself in the backseat to get a better look at him.
“You’re serious,” I said.
“I am.”
“I sort of have a client,” I said.
“I want to be a real client,” he said. “By making you a better offer than Tony has made.”
“At our first meeting,” I said, “I’m almost certain you were the one telling me to stay out of your business.”
Now he faced me more directly. Today he was wearing a zippered cashmere sweater and jeans and suede boots.
“I believe it was John Maynard Keynes who said that when the facts changed, so did his mind,” Jabari said.
“Love the reference,” I said. “But the answer is no.”
“You didn’t even hear my offer.”
“Don’t need to,” I said.
“I am trying to get you to change your mind in a civilized manner,” he said. “Normally ain’t my style.”
His transitions in tone and language were as effortless as Tony’s.
“Am I supposed to thank you?” I said.
“In the very near future, I am going to make a big move on Tony Marcus,” he said.
“Should I alert him? Or the media?”
“He knows,” Jabari said. “And when I do, you are either with me or against me.”
“The answer to your offer is still a polite no,” I said.
“No such thing, least not with me.”
“Well, I could have said ‘fuck no.’”
He hadn’t moved, or changed expression. But something had changed with his eyes. In that moment I imagined him looking at me the way he had looked at all the people he had gone through, from wherever it was he had been, to get to where he was now. He said nothing back, and did not have to.
“Ask you something else?” I said.
He waited.
“Do you know a woman named Callie Harden?” I said.
“Who that?” he said.
“A friend of Lisa’s to whom I spoke yesterday,” I said. “A former prostitute who was found shot to death in South Boston last night.”
“Might be Tony’s style,” he said. “Not mine.”
“Gonna have to take your word on that,” I said.
He leaned forward now.
“I am offering you the opportunity to get on the right side of this,” he said. “With someone who has a much more enlightened attitude about women than Tony Marcus.”
“There is no right side of this that I can see,” I said.
He reached over and tapped the window between him and Gled. I looked out the window. We had made our way back to Arlington and come to a stop in front of Smith & Wollensky about a block or so from the Mass Pike.
“You know what they say about people who don’t learn from history,” Jabari said.
Gled was already opening the door for me.
“They’re doomed to repeat it?” I said.
I was starting to get out of the car. Jabari moved across the seat and put a grip that was far too firm on my arm. I looked down at his hand and then back up at him.
“Or just fucking doomed,” he said.
His hand was still on my arm. I looked down on it again. My eyes told him to remove it. He did.
“I believe we’re done here,” I said.
“We are,” Gabriel Jabari said. “Now get the fuck out of my car.”
I did.