Night and Day js-8 Read online

  Night and Day

  ( Jessie Stone - 8 )

  Robert B Parker

  Unknown

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Dedication

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Chapter 48

  Chapter 49

  Chapter 50

  Chapter 51

  Chapter 52

  Chapter 53

  Chapter 54

  Chapter 55

  Chapter 56

  Chapter 57

  Chapter 58

  Chapter 59

  Chapter 60

  Chapter 61

  Chapter 62

  Chapter 63

  Chapter 64

  Chapter 65

  Chapter 66

  Chapter 67

  Chapter 68

  Chapter 69

  Chapter 70

  Chapter 71

  Chapter 72

  Chapter 73

  Chapter 74

  THE SPENSER NOVELS

  Rough Weather

  Now & Then

  Hundred-Dollar Baby

  School Days

  Cold Service

  Bad Business

  Back Story

  Widow’s Walk

  Potshot

  Hugger Mugger

  Hush Money

  Sudden Mischief

  Small Vices

  Chance

  Thin Air

  Walking Shadow

  Paper Doll

  Double Deuce

  Pastime

  Stardust

  Playmates

  Crimson Joy

  Pale Kings and Princes

  Taming a Sea-Horse

  A Catskill Eagle

  Valediction

  The Widening Gyre

  Ceremony

  A Savage Place

  Early Autumn

  Looking for Rachel Wallace

  The Judas Goat

  Promised Land

  Mortal Stakes

  God Save the Child

  The Godwulf Manuscript

  THE JESSE STONE NOVELS

  Stranger in Paradise

  High Profile

  Sea Change

  Stone Cold

  Death in Paradise

  Trouble in Paradise

  Night Passage

  THE SUNNY RANDALL NOVELS

  Spare Change

  Blue Screen

  Melancholy Baby

  Shrink Rap

  Perish Twice

  Family Honor

  ALSO BY ROBERT B. PARKER

  Resolution

  Appaloosa

  Double Play

  Gunman’s Rhapsody

  All Our Yesterdays

  A Year at the Races

  (with Joan H. Parker)

  Perchance to Dream

  Poodle Springs

  (with Raymond Chandler)

  Love and Glory

  Wilderness

  Three Weeks in Spring

  (with Joan H. Parker)

  Training with Weights

  (with John R. Marsh)

  G. P. PUTNAM’S SONS

  Publishers Since 1838

  Published by the Penguin Group

  Penguin Group (USA) Inc., 375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014, USA Penguin Group (Canada), 90 Eglinton Avenue East, Suite 700, Toronto, Ontario M4P 2Y3, Canada (a division of Pearson Canada Inc.) Penguin Books Ltd, 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England Penguin Ireland, 25 St Stephen’s Green, Dublin 2, Ireland (a division of Penguin Books Ltd) Penguin Group (Australia), 250 Camberwell Road, Camberwell, Victoria 3124, Australia (a division of Pearson Australia Group Pty Ltd) Penguin Books India Pvt Ltd, 11 Community Centre, Panchsheel Park, New Delhi-110 017, India Penguin Group (NZ), 67 Apollo Drive, Rosedale, North Shore 0632, New Zealand (a division of Pearson New Zealand Ltd) Penguin Books (South Africa) (Pty) Ltd, 24 Sturdee Avenue, Rosebank, Johannesburg 2196, South Africa

  Penguin Books Ltd, Registered Offices:

  80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England

  Copyright © 2009 by Robert B. Parker

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.

  Published simultaneously in Canada

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

  Parker, Robert B., date.

  Night and day / Robert B. Parker.

  p. cm.

  eISBN : 978-1-101-01600-8

  1. Police chiefs—Massachusetts—Fiction. 2. Sex crimes—

  Investigation—Fiction. 3. Voyeurism—Fiction. I. Title.

  PS3566.A686N53 2009b 2008054245

  813’.54—dc22

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  While the author has made every effort to provide accurate telephone numbers and Internet addresses at the time of publication, neither the publisher nor the author assumes any responsibility for errors, or for changes that occur after publication. Further, the publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.

  http://us.penguingroup.com

  For Joan:

  Only you beneath the moon

  and under the sun.

  1

  JESSE STONE sat in his office at the Paradise police station, looking at the sign painted on the pebbled-glass window of his office door. From the inside it read FEIHC , or it would have, if the letters hadn’t been backward. He tried pronouncing the word, decided he couldn’t, and stopped thinking about it. On his desk was a glamour head shot of his ex-wife. He looked at it for a time, and decided not to think about that, either.

  Molly Crane came from the front desk and opened the door.

  “Suit just called in,” she said. “There’s some kind of disturbance at the junior high school and he thinks you and I ought to come down.”

  “Girls involved?” Jesse said.

  “That’s why he wants me,” Molly said.

  “I understand,” Jesse said. “But why does he want me?”

  “You’re the chief of police,” Molly said. “Everybody wants you.”

  Jesse glanced
at Jenn’s picture again.

  “Oh,” Jesse said. “Yeah.”

  Jesse stood, and clipped his gun to his belt.

  “Though you sure don’t dress like a chief,” Molly said.

  Jesse was wearing a uniform shirt, blue jeans, Nikes, a dark blue Paradise police baseball hat, and a badge that said Chief . He tapped the badge.

  “I do where it counts,” he said. “Who’s on the desk?”

  “Steve,” Molly said.

  “Okay,” Jesse said. “You drive. No siren.”

  “Oh, damn,” Molly said. “I never get to use the siren.”

  “Maybe when you make sergeant,” Jesse said.

  There were two Paradise police cruisers parked outside of the junior high school.

  “Who’s in the other cruiser,” Jesse said as they got out of the car.

  “Eddie Cox,” Molly said. “He and Suit have seven to eleven this week.”

  They walked into the school lobby, where a thick mill of parents was being held at bay by two Paradise cops. Most of the parents were mothers, with a scatter of fathers looking oddly out of place. When Jesse came in they all swarmed toward him, many of them speaking to him loudly.

  “You’re the chief of police, are you gonna do something?”

  “I want that woman arrested!”

  “She’s a goddamned child molester!”

  “What are you going to do about this?”

  “Do you know what she did?”

  “Did they tell you what happened here?”

  Jesse ignored them.

  He said to Molly, “Keep them here.”

  Then he pointed at Suit and jerked his head down the hallway.

  “What’s up,” Jesse said when they were alone.

  Simpson’s real name was Luther. He was a big kid, with blond hair and a round face. He wasn’t as young as he looked, but he was young. He was called Suitcase after the baseball player, Harry “Suitcase” Simpson.

  “This is weird,” Suit said.

  Jesse waited.

  “Mrs. Ingersoll,” Suit said, “the principal. Christ, she was principal when I was here.”

  Jesse waited.

  “There was some kind of after-school dance yesterday,” Suit said, his voice speeding up a little. “Eighth-grade dance. And before the dance, Mrs. Ingersoll took all the girls into the girls’

  locker room and picked up their dresses to see what kind of underwear they had on.”

  Jesse stared at Suit for a time without speaking.

  Then Jesse said, “Huh?”

  “That’s what the girls claim.”

  “Why did she do that?” Jesse said.

  “Don’t know,” Suit said. “But when the girls got home a lot of them told their mothers, and .

  . .” He gestured toward the crowd.

  Jesse nodded.

  “Where’s Mrs. Ingersoll?” Jesse said.

  “In her office.”

  “You ask her about this?” Jesse said.

  “She called in and said there was a disturbance. So we came down here and found what you see. It was like a damned lynch mob. We sort of wrangled them into the lobby, and Mrs.

  Ingersoll went in her office and won’t come out, which is when we called you . . .

  and”?Suitcase looked a little uncertain?“because of the, ah, nature of the alleged crime, you know, we thought Molly should come, too.”

  Jesse nodded.

  “How about the girls?” Jesse said.

  “That got, ah, checked?” Suit said.

  “Uh-huh.”

  “I guess they’re in class,” Suit said. “I haven’t had time to do a lot of investigating. Me and Eddie had our hands full with the parents.”

  Jesse nodded.

  “Isn’t this swell,” he said.

  Suit shrugged.

  Jesse walked down the corridor to the lobby. The crowd of parents was silent now, standing in angry vigil.

  “Get them down to the auditorium,” Jesse said to Suit. “Get the names of their daughters and ask the girls to go there, too. You need help, call Steve, tell him to send some.”

  “You gonna talk to Mrs. Ingersoll?” Suit said.

  “Yep.”

  “Then you coming to the auditorium?” Suit said.

  “Yep.”

  “You know what you’re gonna tell the parents?”

  “Not a clue,” Jesse said.

  2

  JESSE BROUGHT Molly with him when he went into Mrs. Ingersoll’s office.

  “Chief Stone,” Mrs. Ingersoll said when he came into her office. “How lovely to see you.

  And this is?”

  “Officer Crane,” Jesse said.

  “How do you do, Officer Crane,” Mrs. Ingersoll said.

  Molly nodded.

  Mrs. Ingersoll smiled brightly.

  “Have you dispersed those foolish people?” she said.

  “We’ve asked them to wait in the auditorium,” Jesse said. “And we’ll ask their daughters to join them there.”

  “My goodness,” Mrs. Ingersoll said.

  “Tell me about this situation,” Jesse said.

  Mrs. Ingersoll was sitting behind her big desk. The desktop was immaculately empty.

  “Situation? Chief Stone, I fear that it overstates things to call it a situation.”

  “Tell me something,” Jesse said.

  “I have very little to tell,” Mrs. Ingersoll said. “I’m not angry at these parents. They are concerned with their children’s well-being, as am I.”

  Jesse waited. Mrs. Ingersoll smiled at him. Jesse waited. Mrs. Ingersoll smiled.

  “The girls say you picked up their skirts and checked their underwear.”

  Mrs. Ingersoll continued to smile.

  “Did you?” Jesse said.

  Still smiling, Mrs. Ingersoll leaned forward and folded her hands on her desk.

  “I have given twenty years of my life to this school,” she said, “the last five as principal.

  Most people don’t like the principal. Being police chief, you may understand. The students think I’m here to discipline them. The teachers think I am here to order them about. Actually, of course, I am here to see to the well-being of the children.”

  Jesse nodded slowly. When he spoke his voice showed no sign of impatience.

  “Did you look at their underwear, Mrs. Ingersoll?”

  “I have done nothing illegal,” she said brightly.

  “Actually,” Jesse said, “that’s not your call, Mrs. Ingersoll.”

  Her eyes were big and bright. Her smile lingered.

  “It’s not?”

  “You’ve been accused of an action,” Jesse said pleasantly, “which, depending on the zeal of the prosecutor, the skill of the defense, and the political inclinations of the judge, might or might not be deemed a crime.”

  “Oh, Jesse,” she said. “That’s absurd.”

  “Did you check their undies, Betsy?” Jesse said.

  She continued to smile. Her eyes continued to sparkle. But she didn’t speak.

  “Would you care to come down to the auditorium with me and thrash this out with the kids and their parents?” Jesse said. “Try to keep this from turning into a hairball?”

  She remained cheerfully motionless for a moment. Then she shook her head.

  “Do you know who my husband is, Jesse?” she said.

  “I do,” he said.

  “Well, I’m going to call him now,” she said. “And I’d like you to leave my office, please.”

  Jesse glanced at Molly. Molly’s lips were whistling silently as she stood studying the view from the window behind Mrs. Ingersoll. He looked back at Mrs. Ingersoll.

  Then he said, “Come on, Moll, let’s go talk to the girls.”

  As they left the office, Mrs. Ingersoll picked up the phone and began to dial.

  3

  “I’D LIKE to drag her down to the station and strip-search her,” Molly said. “Give her a little taste.”

  Jesse smiled. />
  “That option remains available, Moll,” Jesse said. “But we probably need to talk to the victims first.”

  “I know,” Molly said, “I know. But if it were one of my kids . . .”

  The auditorium was subdued, as if the parents and the children were a little frightened by the circumstance they’d created. It was a small auditorium. Jesse sat on the lip of the stage.

  “I’m Jesse Stone,” he said. “I’m the chief of police. We can do this several ways. I can talk to you all, together, right here. Officer Molly Crane and I can talk to the girls separately, alone, or separately with a parent”?he grinned at the scatter of fathers?“or parents.”

  A hard-faced woman with brittle blond hair and a dark tan sat next to her daughter in the front row. She put up her hand. Jesse nodded at her.

  “What does Ingersoll have to say?” she asked.

  “Mrs. Ingersoll has neither affirmed nor denied anything,” Jesse said. “So I thought I’d ask you.”

  The parents and children sat still in the auditorium. Eddie Cox and Suit leaned against the wall. Molly stood beside Jesse, resting her hips against the stage.

  “Would one of the girls who were, ah, examined, like to tell us about it?” Jesse said.

  The daughter of the brittle blonde looked down and didn’t say anything. Her mother poked her. She continued to look down and shake her head.

  “Me.”

  Jesse saw her, in the middle of the third row, a dark-haired girl, just developing a cheer-leader’s body if all went well.

  “What’s your name?” Jesse said.

  She stood up.

  “Bobbie Sorrentino,” she said.

  “Okay, Bobbie,” Jesse said. “Is that your mother with you?”

  “Yeah,” Bobbie said, and nodded at her mother. “Her.”

  “Okay,” Jesse said. “Tell me about it.”

  “I gotta stand?”

  “Nope, stand, sit, up to you.”

  “I’m gonna stand,” she said.

  Jesse nodded.

  “They got this stupid Wednesday-afternoon dance,” Bobbie said. “You know, keep the kids off the street. Teach them manners.”

  She snorted at the thought. Several of the girls giggled.

  “But if you don’t go and everybody else goes, you feel like a dweeb, so we all go.”

  Jesse smiled.

  “And the boys went,” Jesse said.

  “Yeah,” Bobbie said, “sure.”

  Jesse nodded.

  “I remember,” he said.

  Bobbie stared at him a moment, as if it had never occurred to her that Jesse had ever been in junior high.