"Death in Paradise" - читать интересную книгу автора (Parker Robert B.)

Chapter Eight

Jesse could hear the music from beyond the curve. As he came around the curve he could barely squeeze his own car between the cars parked on both sides of the street. He could see the blue light revolving on the roof of Arthur Angstrom's cruiser parked in the driveway of a big, sprawling Victorian house that sat at the top of a rolling lawn. Angstrom stood beside the cruiser talking to a short man with a dark tan. The man was partially bald. His remaining hair was gray and hung to his shoulders.

"You're Chief Stone?" the man said.

"Yes."

"I'm Norman Shaw."

"I know."

Shaw looked gratified. "Good," he said. "Your officer here appears to think there's a crime being committed here."

Shaw's eyes were bloodshot, and beneath the tan on his face was a web of broken veins. He was wearing shorts and a white oxford shirt with the tails out. His legs were tan and skinny and nearly hairless. He wasn't fat, but he had an assertive belly that pushed against the shirt.

"Actually he's not my officer," Jesse said. "He's yours. He works for the town."

"Casuistry aside," Shaw said, "I like to talk with the man in charge."

"That would be me," Jesse said.

"Young for the job," Shaw said.

"I'm aging fast, though."

"Well, I am sure you're old enough to explain to this officer…"

"Angstrom," Jesse said. "Officer Angstrom."

"I'm sure you can explain to him that Party Patrol is not the best use a policeman can make of his time."

"You had a complaint?" Jesse said to Arthur.

"Noise," Angstrom said. "Obstructing access. Drunk and disorderly. Public lewdness. Littering. Urinating on a private lawn."

"Punishable by death?" Shaw said. "It's a party, for God's sake. The Lieutenant Governor is here. Michael DeSisto came all the way from Stockbridge. There are state reps. A congressman. My attorney. Do I have to get my attorney down here?"

"Chills run up and down my spine," Jesse said. "You'll have to move some cars." He turned to Angstrom. "You got the names of the complainants?"

"Yep."

"Will they point out the culprits?"

"They say so."

"Move cars?" Shaw said. "You expect me to go from person to person asking if they own the fucking blue Mercedes or the black Saab?"

"Yes."

"And take all the juice right out of the party?"

"That's not a bad thing," Jesse said.

"Well, I'm not doing it."

Jesse shrugged. "Call Frankie's Tow," he said to Arthur. "Have them start hooking up."

"Tow?"

"Yep."

"You can't tow all these cars."

Jesse ignored him. "Then get John Maguire out here, and Peter Perkins. They're on shift. Have John supervise the towing. You and Peter get the complainants over here and start arresting the guests."

"For what?"

"Noise," Jesse said. "Obstructing access. Drunk and disorderly. Public lewdness. Littering. Urinating on a private lawn."

"You are going to get yourself in serious trouble," Shaw said.

His face was flushed under the tan, and he was breathing harshly. "You have no idea what kind of guest list is here."

"Gee, maybe we'll make the papers," Jesse said.

A woman in tight calf-length pants and a glistening silvery tank top came down the lawn carrying a cocktail.

Martini, Jesse thought.

The woman stopped beside Shaw and stood so that she was touching him.

"What's going on, Normy?"

She was taller than Shaw, with straight blond hair worn long. Her breasts pushed hard against the silvery tank top, and the pants fit tight over her thighs. Her features were elegantly proportional. And her teeth were even and perfectly white. Everyone had teeth like that in L.A.

Bonded, Jesse thought.

"These… policemen feel that we are entirely lawless," Shaw said.

He took the martini from her and drank some and handed her back the glass.

"Oh, pooh," the woman said and smiled at Jesse. "Have a drink. Lighten up."

"No drinks, ma'am."

"Oh my," she said, "so solemn. I'm Joni Shaw."

She put out her hand to Jesse. She was quick. She had already figured out who was in charge. Jesse didn't shake hands.

"Jesse Stone," he said.

She smiled. The smile was very strong. Jesse could feel it.

"And do you really want to ruin our party? It's Normy's annual publication party."

"We don't want to ruin your party," Jesse said. "But cars need to be moved. Behavior needs to be modified."

"Every year when his new novel comes out, we throw this huge bash. Normy's agent is here. There are film people. Publishing people. Politicians. The Lieutenant Governor is here."

"Mr. Shaw mentioned the Lieutenant Governor," Jesse said. "Get on the radio, Arthur. Call the tow company."

Angstrom slid into his car and started his call.

"We'll move the cars," Joni Shaw said.

"And keep people from wandering into the neighbors' yards?"

"I'll do my best."

"I'm going to have your job," Shaw said.

"Probably not," Jesse said.

He smiled at Joni Shaw. She smiled back at him.