A Drink Before the War by Dennis Lehane Page A

together for one last worthwhile breath. It’s not a look I’ve ever seen in the eyes of people like Sterling Mulkern or Jim Vurnan or Brian Paulson. I never saw it on the Hero’s face or a president’s or a captain of industry’s. But I’ve seen it in the faces of most everyone else.
    â€œJenna, you tell me what you think I should do.”
    â€œWho hired you?”
    I shook my head.
    â€œWell, it was either Senator Mulkern or Socia, and Socia’d just have you shoot me where I sit, so it got to be Senator Mulkern.”
    Socia? “Is Socia any relation to Roland?” I asked.
    I could have broadsided her with a wrecking ball and had less impact. She closed her eyes for a moment and rocked in place. “What you know about Roland?”
    â€œI know he’s bad news.”
    â€œYou stay away from Roland,” she said. “You hear? Away from him.”
    â€œThat’s what people keep telling me.”
    â€œWell,” she said, “you listen.”
    â€œWho’s Roland?” I asked.
    She shook her head.
    â€œOK. Who’s Socia?”
    Another head shake.
    â€œI can’t help you, Jenna, if—”
    â€œAin’t asking for your help,” she said.
    â€œFine,” I said. I stood up and walked over to the phone. I reconnected it, began to dial.
    She said, “What’re you doing?”
    I said, “Calling my client. You can talk to him. My job’s done.”
    She said, “Wait.”
    I shook my head. “Sterling Mulkern, please.”
    An electronic voice was telling me the time when Jenna pulled the phone cord out of the wall again. I turned and looked at her.
    She said, “You got to trust me.”
    â€œNo, I don’t. I can leave you here and walk down to the nearest phone booth and make my call there.”
    â€œBut what if—?”
    â€œWhat if what?” I said. “Lady, I got better things to do than fuck around with you. You got a card to play? Play it.”
    She said, “What sort of documents you supposed to be looking for?”
    No point in lying. I said, “They pertain to an upcoming bill.”
    â€œOh, they do?” she said. “Well, Mr. Kenzie, someone been lying to you. What I got don’t have nothing to do with bills and politics or the State House.”
    Everything has to do with politics in this town, but I let it go. “What do they pertain—No, fuck it. What do you got, Ms. Angeline?”
    â€œI got some things in a safety-deposit box in Boston. Now, you want to find out what those things are, you comewith me tomorrow when the banks open, and we’ll see what you’re made of.”
    â€œWhy should I?” I said. “Why shouldn’t I call my client right now?”
    She said, “I think I know people pretty well, Mr. Kenzie. Ain’t much of a talent for a poor black woman to have, but it’s the only one I got. And you, well, maybe you don’t mind being someone’s dog every now and again, but you sure ain’t nobody’s bag boy.”

10
    Angie said, “Are you out of your fucking mind?” It came out in a harsh whisper. We were sitting in the alcove, looking out at the street. Jenna and Simone were in the kitchen, probably having a similar conversation.
    I said, “You don’t like it?”
    â€œNo,” she said, “I don’t like it.”
    â€œTwelve hours more or less won’t make much difference.”
    â€œBullshit. Patrick, this is retarded. We were hired to find her and call Mulkern. OK. We found her. Now, we should be making the call and going home.”
    â€œI don’t think so.”
    â€œ You don’t think so?” she hissed. “How nice. Except you’re not the only component in this equation. This is a partnership.”
    â€œI know it’s—”
    â€œDo you? I have a license too. Remember? You may have started the agency, but I’ve put my