Chapter 74
Louis arrived in Boston, availed of an early check-in at the Four Seasons, and ordered lunch from room service: steak, medium, accompanied by a bottle of Prunotto Barolo.
(Had Allen Atwood Alcock been presented with that bill, he might have suffered a coronary.) He showered while he waited for the food to arrive, drank one small glass of the Barolo with his steak, and saved the rest for later.
He then took the T to the Wellesley Square station, where he enjoyed a stroll in the afternoon air, pausing by Fuller Brook Park to take in the birdsong.
He returned to the T station, went back to the Four Seasons, and poured himself another glass of Barolo.
Unlike Moxie Castin, Louis had no qualms about engaging David Southwood, and didn’t even regard his fees as excessive.
When it came to illegal activities, one wasn’t paying for the service alone, but also the aftercare.
Remembering was cheap but forgetting was expensive, and the more consequential the business to be forgotten, the higher the price.
Louis sent Southwood an email from a one-off address.
Five minutes later, the phone in the room rang, even though Louis had not told Southwood where he was staying.
“What is it?” asked Southwood.
“All your friends have gathered for a surprise party in your backyard,” said Louis. “They were worried about you.”
A few seconds went by before Southwood said: “There’s no one in my yard.”
“Like I said, all your friends.”
“Funny.”
“Don’t say it if you don’t mean it. I need an address isolated.”
“Give it to me.”
Louis did.
“When?”
“Tomorrow night.”
A minute’s silence followed while Southwood did what Southwood did, breaking any number of laws along the way.
“I wouldn’t,” he said at last. “BPW and NGrid have a gas relay project scheduled to begin in Wellesley tomorrow: Grove Street, Cameron Street, and Hampden Street are all in the affected area. It’ll take a week or more.
They’ll be working nights to get it finished, and there’ll be a police presence. ”
Louis couldn’t afford to wait that long, even if Kade managed, as promised, to hold off the broker. Right now, he knew someone was at the Sturgis house.
“Tonight, then.”
Southwood named his price. Louis was about to agree when Southwood added: “That’s basic, without penalty payments.”
“Why would there be penalties?”
“You want me to ask what you plan on doing once you’re inside?”
“You never ask that kind of question.”
“When it comes to you, that’s why there are penalties. I’ll also have to postpone other pressing work.”
“How much?”
“Fifty percent on top, the total payable in full immediately. But for that, you get the premium service, including access to his computer, if that’s of interest. I can also install spyware, if you’d like to know who he’ll be talking to from now on.”
Louis said spyware wouldn’t be necessary, since he didn’t think Sturgis would be talking to anyone again after tonight, although he didn’t mention this to Southwood; and Southwood didn’t argue the point, almost certainly because he guessed the reason for the refusal.
But Louis did ask him to search Sturgis’s computer for any references to angels or associated words and terms, and any mention of the Colonial Club. Sturgis said he’d get right on it.
“I’ll be in your ear from the moment you reach the house,” said Southwood, “with eyes on local and state law enforcement. How’s the Four Seasons, by the way?”
“Reassuringly expensive,” said Louis.
“Just like me. I’ll send you my payment details via Threema. And just so you know, that crack about my friends was hurtful. I could have friends. I just choose not to.”
“Well, if you change your mind, Angel and I will be your friends.”
“Really?”
“No.”
“It’s for the best,” said Southwood. “All your friends end up dead.”