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224 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1981
Please. I have no one else. Please."
"There's a qustion whether you need anyone else," I said, "but I'll take a whack at it on one condition."
"What?"
"You tell me your name so I'll know where the bill gets sent."
She smiled. "Giacomin," she said, "Patty Giacomin."
"Like the old Ranger's goalie," I said.
"I'm sorry?"
"Gentleman of the same name used to be a hockey player."
"Oh. I"m afraid I don't follow sports much."
"No shame to it," I said. "Matter of not being raised properly. Not your fault at all."
She smiled again, although this time it was a little unsure, as if now that she had me she wasn't certain she wanted me. It's a look I've seen a lot.
You've gotten yourself in a lot of trouble over this, Jack, and don't you forget it," he said.
I said, "Name's Spenser with an S, like the poet. I'm in the Boston book." I stepped through the door and closed it. Then I opened it again and stuck my head back into the hall. "Under Tough," I said. And closed the door, and walked out.
Susan was quiet, looking down at me. “Spring will be a little late this year,” she said. “For Paul? Yeah.” I laughed with no pleasure. “Spring is gone. It’s early autumn for Paul. If I can do it.” “And if he can,” Susan said.