Hawk said.
“We’ve all known people who were married,” Susan said, “and left the marriage for a same-sex lover. Why is it so impossible to imagine it happening the other way?”
“But who would be gay, if they could choose?” Estelle said.
“That is, of course, the existing prejudice,” Susan said. “But it also implies that those who led straight lives could have chosen not to before they did.”
Estelle didn’t look too pleased about existing prejudice, but she didn’t remark on it.
“I guess, as I think of it, that if a gay person entered into a straight relationship I’d assume it was only a cover-up.”
“As if gay is permanent but straight is tenuous,” Susan said.
“I hadn’t thought of it quite that way before,” Estelle said.
Susan nodded. “It’s a hard question,” she said.
“Kid making any progress?” Hawk said.
Susan smiled without pleasure.
“Yes. But it wasn’t the direction he’d come to me looking for.”
“He was discovering that maybe he wasn’t going to change?” I said.
“Yes.”
“You did what you could,” Estelle said.
“I wonder if he’d have been better off without my help,” Susan said.
“The rescue business is chancy,” I said.
Susan smiled at me slowly, and patted my forearm.
“It is, isn’t it,” she said.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Hawk was standing at the window of my office looking down at the green Chevy idling in front of Houghton Mifflin.
“Ain’t it about time you and me pulled the plug on the followers?” Hawk said.
“Nope.”
“How ‘bout we go out to the Soldiers Field Development Corporation and shake up their boss?”
“Whom you believe to be Felton Shawcross,” I said.
“Whom else?” Hawk said.
“CEO doesn’t always know what his employees are doing,” I said.
“True,” Hawk said. “You and me for instance.”
“My point exactly,” I said.
“We could yank one of the followers out of his car and hit him until he tell us why he’s following you.”
“He may not know,” I said.
“‘Cause he a employee,” Hawk said.
“Yes.”
“We could ask whom employs him.”
“We can always do that. Just like we can always call on Felton Shawcross,” I said. “Right now I figure if they wanted to make a run at me they would have by now.”
“Probably.”
“So they’re just trying to keep tabs on me.”
“Probably why they following you around,” Hawk said.
“Because they want to know if I’m getting closer.”
“Which they’ll decide based on who you see.”
“Whom,” I said.
Hawk turned around and looked at me and smiled.
“So when you see somebody that’s important, maybe they’ll do something.”
“Yep.”
“And then ya’ll gonna know whom is important.”
“You’re doing that whost.whom thing on purpose, aren’t you?” I said.
“Ah is a product of the ghetto,” Hawk said. “Ah’s trying to learn.”
“And failing,” I said.
“So it is your professed intention,” Hawk said, “to continue visiting with principals in the case until you get a discernible reaction from those monitoring your movements?”
“That be my professed intention, bro,” I said. “You be down with that?”
“Jesus Christ,” Hawk said.
“I don’t sound like an authentic ghetto-bred Negro?” I said.
“You sound like an asshole,” Hawk said.
“Well,” I said. “There’s that.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Brinkman “Brink” Tyler had his office in a recycled warehouse on the recycled waterfront, not so far from the Harbor Health Club. I couldn’t find an open hydrant, so I parked my car on the fourth level of the garage near the aquarium and walked, with Curly behind me looking intensely like he was just out for a walk. The Lexus that had been following me was pulled up across from me on the little side way that led to the aquarium. To my left the biggest urban renewal project in the country was chattering very slowly along, and corrupting all of the downtown traffic patterns in
“We’ve all known people who were married,” Susan said, “and left the marriage for a same-sex lover. Why is it so impossible to imagine it happening the other way?”
“But who would be gay, if they could choose?” Estelle said.
“That is, of course, the existing prejudice,” Susan said. “But it also implies that those who led straight lives could have chosen not to before they did.”
Estelle didn’t look too pleased about existing prejudice, but she didn’t remark on it.
“I guess, as I think of it, that if a gay person entered into a straight relationship I’d assume it was only a cover-up.”
“As if gay is permanent but straight is tenuous,” Susan said.
“I hadn’t thought of it quite that way before,” Estelle said.
Susan nodded. “It’s a hard question,” she said.
“Kid making any progress?” Hawk said.
Susan smiled without pleasure.
“Yes. But it wasn’t the direction he’d come to me looking for.”
“He was discovering that maybe he wasn’t going to change?” I said.
“Yes.”
“You did what you could,” Estelle said.
“I wonder if he’d have been better off without my help,” Susan said.
“The rescue business is chancy,” I said.
Susan smiled at me slowly, and patted my forearm.
“It is, isn’t it,” she said.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Hawk was standing at the window of my office looking down at the green Chevy idling in front of Houghton Mifflin.
“Ain’t it about time you and me pulled the plug on the followers?” Hawk said.
“Nope.”
“How ‘bout we go out to the Soldiers Field Development Corporation and shake up their boss?”
“Whom you believe to be Felton Shawcross,” I said.
“Whom else?” Hawk said.
“CEO doesn’t always know what his employees are doing,” I said.
“True,” Hawk said. “You and me for instance.”
“My point exactly,” I said.
“We could yank one of the followers out of his car and hit him until he tell us why he’s following you.”
“He may not know,” I said.
“‘Cause he a employee,” Hawk said.
“Yes.”
“We could ask whom employs him.”
“We can always do that. Just like we can always call on Felton Shawcross,” I said. “Right now I figure if they wanted to make a run at me they would have by now.”
“Probably.”
“So they’re just trying to keep tabs on me.”
“Probably why they following you around,” Hawk said.
“Because they want to know if I’m getting closer.”
“Which they’ll decide based on who you see.”
“Whom,” I said.
Hawk turned around and looked at me and smiled.
“So when you see somebody that’s important, maybe they’ll do something.”
“Yep.”
“And then ya’ll gonna know whom is important.”
“You’re doing that whost.whom thing on purpose, aren’t you?” I said.
“Ah is a product of the ghetto,” Hawk said. “Ah’s trying to learn.”
“And failing,” I said.
“So it is your professed intention,” Hawk said, “to continue visiting with principals in the case until you get a discernible reaction from those monitoring your movements?”
“That be my professed intention, bro,” I said. “You be down with that?”
“Jesus Christ,” Hawk said.
“I don’t sound like an authentic ghetto-bred Negro?” I said.
“You sound like an asshole,” Hawk said.
“Well,” I said. “There’s that.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Brinkman “Brink” Tyler had his office in a recycled warehouse on the recycled waterfront, not so far from the Harbor Health Club. I couldn’t find an open hydrant, so I parked my car on the fourth level of the garage near the aquarium and walked, with Curly behind me looking intensely like he was just out for a walk. The Lexus that had been following me was pulled up across from me on the little side way that led to the aquarium. To my left the biggest urban renewal project in the country was chattering very slowly along, and corrupting all of the downtown traffic patterns in
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