Robert B. Parker's Slow Burn (Spenser, #44)(62)

“Or that well,” I said. “Perhaps you should have continued with your studies. Did you know he was fired from his job at a school for stealing televisions and computers? And that he once slapped a young boy there? Tough guy. When the kid’s parents pressed charges, their house burned. The reason the Sparks wouldn’t allow him to join was because they found him mentally unstable.”

“Johnny’s a good guy,” he said. “He taught me a lot about being a firefighter and a man. You don’t know shit. He’s the real deal. He’s a friend.”

“Yeah, sure,” I said. “Ray Zucco says he killed Rob Featherstone and set fire to Holy Innocents as payback for something that happened to him as a kid.”

“Bullshit,” he said. “Ray never said Johnny burned that church. Because it didn’t happen.”

“But you three burned other places,” I said. “You guys burned about eighty buildings this year. I’m only curious as to your reasons.”

“Go screw yourself.”

“You guys sent several firefighters to the hospital last week,” I said. “You knocked me and dozen or so people out of their homes on Marlborough Street. I don’t like to tie myself to possessions, but I’d rather not lose everything. Do you know how hard it is to find a black leather trench coat this day and age?”

Teehan looked to me with mild curiosity. He dropped the flowers near the headstone. His mother’s name was Barbara Ann. She’d been only thirty-six when she died. He noticed me staring and turned his eyes on me. They were small, beady, and black.

“What happened?” I said.

Teehan lowered his head and scratched his neck. Now my hair was as short as his. I hoped the bald look looked better on me.

“She got real sick,” he said. “Fast. Took about a year. It sucked.”

The cemetery was as still and quiet as it should be. Few cars passed out on Winter Street. Birds zipped past us and crickets chirped along the stone wall and from behind headstones. Somewhere far off, a dog continued to howl. I wiped my sweating brow with the tips of my fingers. Patience was key.

“Why’d you guys do it?”

“We didn’t do nothing,” he said. “Ray is a f*cking liar.”

“They got you, Kevin,” I said. “Cops are looking for you. Nowhere to run to. Nowhere to hide.”

“So what,” he said. “What are you gonna do? Pull a gun on me and force me to leave with you.”

“Nope,” I said. “I’m going to let you run. It’ll only make you look worse at your arraignment. They won’t be able to set bail high enough.”

“You and the cops got nothing.”

“Everyone is turning,” I said. “Johnny’s next.”

“Johnny won’t turn,” he said. “Because he didn’t do nothing.”

“Well,” I said. “Whatever happens, I think your hopes of working for Boston Fire aren’t looking so good.”

“Whatever,” he said. “Screw ’em.”

“Do some good,” I said. “You tell them how Johnny burned that church and killed three of their people. Stand up.”

“And make Ma proud of me?” Teehan said. He grinned sarcastically when he said it.

“Exactly.”

He shook his head, spit on the ground, and brushed past my shoulder. He slammed his car door behind him and took off so fast out of the cemetery that a kitchen chair fell from the trunk and cracked onto the road. He left it there and sped off.

I watched him go and turned on the tracking app on my telephone.

Someday the human spirit will prevail over technology. But in the meantime, it made my job much easier.





Kevin met Johnny down in the Seaport where the city had dumped a mountain of snow that winter. It was late June, but some of the black snow hadn’t melted. They parked their cars on the perimeter of the chain-link by a sign that warned people against dumping shit. But shit had mixed in with the black snow: parts of cars, traffic signs, old bicycles lay in useless heaps like a scrap yard. Kevin looked all around the wide open space and across the harbor and the big warehouses packed close by. Nobody had followed. Seagulls picked scraps out of the mess and flew away.

He got out of the Crown Vic, still loaded down with clothes and his mom’s old furniture, and walked up to Johnny’s red Blazer with the fire department logo on the door. He tapped on the side window and Johnny opened up.

He had on a baseball cap and sunglasses, listening to the news.

“Where the f*ck are you going?” Johnny said.

“As far as I can until the money runs out.”

“You run and they’ll find you,” he said. “There’s no way they know what we’ve been doing. Don’t get all squirrely.”

“That guy Spenser found me,” Kevin said. “He knows you killed Featherstone and set the Holy Innocents fire.”

“Bullshit.”

“He says cops know it, too,” he said. “They’re looking for you.”

“Ain’t it funny,” Johnny said. “I just got a call from Big Ray. He wants to meet and talk about things. I wonder how stupid these cops think I am? I said, ‘Sure, Big Ray, I’d be happy to meet anytime and anyplace.’ You know why? Because they got nothing and I’m not saying jack shit. If they pull you in, kid, you keep your mouth shut. Ray’s a nut. He’s gotten in trouble with the cops before. Any halfwit attorney could tear him a new *. He’s a bad cop.”