“He done a triple at Shirley?” Hawk said.

I nodded.

“For swindling some woman?”

I nodded.

“Might make sense to talk to the woman,” Hawk said.

“I’m a man of great intellectual curiosity,” I said.

We finished our second round. The bartender delivered a third.

“You sure that woman isn’t looking at me?” I said.

“What you care?” Hawk said. “You don’t fool around no more.”

I grinned at him.

“I was never fooling,” I said.

I WAS IN MY OFFICE, at my desk, looking at Gary Pappas’s full folder that Quirk had gotten for me. Susan was at a conference in Portland, Maine, and wouldn’t be back until tomorrow. So Pearl was on the couch in my office, which had been purchased for her use. Though now and then, when she wasn’t around, Susan and I used it for our own purposes. My office door opened softly. Pearl barked. My visitors hesitated.

“It’s all right, she won’t bite you,” I said.

The door opened wider and in came Regina Hartley with a man. Pearl barked again, and they looked at me. Pearl had not bothered to get off the couch and remained prone while she barked.

“It’s Bring Your Dog to Work Day,” I said. “Have a seat.”

They walked cautiously past her and sat in front of my desk. Pearl rested her head on her paws and murmured threateningly. I looked at her. She stopped.

“This is my husband, Clifford,” Regina said.

“How do you do?” I said, master of the bon mot.

“We need your help,” Regina said.

“Haven’t done much for you so far,” I said.

“This isn’t about the other girls,” Regina said. “This is just about us.”

I nodded. She looked at her husband. He looked at me. I waited.

“This is awkward,” he said.

“I often hear awkward things,” I said. “I don’t mind.”

He was a slim man, very erect, very well dressed in a blue suit with a blue-striped pin-collar shirt. His hair was white and close-cut. His color was good. He looked at his wife again.

“I can’t,” she said.

He nodded and took a deep breath, and went off the high board.

“I’m gay,” he said.

“ Lot of that going around,” I said.

“ Regina knows. Has always known,” he said. “We care about each other very much, but our lives sometimes run in, ah, separate, though I think parallel, directions.”

“And that works for you?”

“Yes,” he said. “It does.”

Regina nodded.

“Are you out?” I said.

He was silent for a long moment. Then he shook his head.

“No,” he said.

“Would being outed do you harm?”

“I fear so,” he said. “I am being considered as a candidate for the United States Senate.”

“And you fear your gayness would rule you out?”

“Not simply that I am gay,” he said, “but that Regina and I have lived separate sexual lives… rather, I fear, vigorously.”

“Nothing wrong with vigor,” I said.

“You see my problem,” he said. “If I am nominated, this Gary Eisenhower is like a loose cannon out there rolling around.”

“Does he know?” I said.

“About me?” Clifford said. “No, but he knows about Regina, and when I run, he’ll see his big chance, and I’m afraid it will all come out.”

“ Massachusetts has a pretty good history with gay issues,” I said.

“I know,” he said. “But it’s not just gay issues. My wife has slept with an assortment of men.” He smiled faintly. “And so have I.”

I nodded.

“Not a matter of one boyfriend,” I said.

“No,” Clifford said.

I looked at Regina. She shrugged.

“No,” she said.

I nodded.

“Why did you join with the other women?” I said to Regina.

“I thought maybe it would work,” she said. “That we could find someone to make him go away.”

“Can you keep paying him?” I said.

“For a while,” Clifford said. “But it is intolerable.”

I nodded.

“You like your life?”

“Yes,” he said. “We both do.”

Regina nodded.

“I adore her,” he said. “We share everything, except sex. I hope to be with her all my life.”

“ Regina?” I said.

“I feel the same way,” she said.

I leaned back in my chair. Pearl snored gently on the couch.

“Then fess up,” I said.

“You mean tell everyone?” Regina said. “No! No, no, no!”

“Tell the truth,” I said. “And you’ve taken away his every weapon.”

“It would destroy my candidacy,” Clifford said.

“Maybe,” I said. “Say it did. You’d still have your life.”

“No, Clifford,” Regina said. “I won’t let you do this to us.”

“Would you lose your income?” I said.

“I inherited a considerable estate from my father,” he said.

“Essentially, I manage it.”

“So your job is safe.”

He smiled faintly again.

“Yes,” he said.

I spread my hands and turned both palms up.

“The truth will set you free,” I said.

“No,” Regina said. “I won’t have you do this. We’ve wanted this for all of our marriage. You cannot give it up now that it’s so close.”

I looked at him.

“She’s right,” he said. “I can’t give it up. Not now. For both our sakes.”

I didn’t say anything.

“Can’t you think of anything to do?” Regina said.

I looked at Pearl. She was asleep upside down with her feet draped over the back of the couch and her head hanging off. She appeared not to have thought of anything, either.

“Not yet,” I said.

I SEE IT ALL THE TIME in my patients,” Susan said. “There is a way to save themselves and they won’t take it. Can’t take it.”

We had a table by the window at Sorellina. Susan was sipping a martini, up with olives. I had a Dewar’s and soda. I was sipping, too. It was just that my sips were much bigger than Susan’s.

“Hell,” I said. “If their fears are realized, he’ll lose the nomination anyway.”

“It’s too bad,” Susan said. “They seem to have achieved a life many people wish they could have. They have, apparently, a stable, loving relationship and sex lives that fulfill them.”

“So they say.”

“You don’t believe them?” Susan said.

“I don’t believe them or not believe them,” I said. “We’ll see.”

“Well, say they are telling the truth,” Susan said. “They’re together. They have enough money.”

“Yep.”

“The American dream,” Susan said. “Or one version of it.”

“Yep.”

“But because it’s a variation on the traditional dream,” Susan said, “this man has the power to destroy them.”

“It’s a power they’ve given him,” I said.

“What would you do?” Susan said.

“I’d call a press conference. Tell everybody everything, and if they didn’t like it they could vote for my opponent.”

“But you wouldn’t run for political office anyway,” Susan said.

“ ‘If nominated I will not run. If elected I will not serve,’ ” I said.

“Yes,” she said.

“How about you?”

“Would I confess to save the life we have?”

“Um-hmm.”

“Absolutely.”

“And should we live separate sexual lives?” I said.

“Do you want to?” Susan said.

“No.”

“Me, either,” Susan said.

“So let’s not,” I said.

“Okay.”

She picked up her menu. I had a large sip of my scotch, which emptied the glass. I asked our waiter for more.

“I been reading Gary Eisenhower’s folder,” I said. “I got it from Quirk. He was blackmailing a woman named Clarice Richardson. They’d had an affair, same MO, pictures, audiotapes.”

“Married with a rich husband?” Susan said.

“Married,” I said. “But not to a rich man. She was the president of a small liberal-arts college in Hartland. I think it’s all women.”

“Outside of Springfield?” Susan said.

“Yeah. She was afraid she’d lose her husband, for whom she cared. And her job, for which she cared.”