Carl ripped into the bag with a sullen fury. After a few punches his pace slowed, and in less than a minute he was spent.

Hawk and I worked with the other three kids for the next half-hour. When they finished, the boys piled the equipment back into the boxes.

Pedro said, “Will you return and teach us some more?”

We nodded.

“In the meantime,” I said, “take good care of that equipment. It’s yours now.”

The boys and Jackie beamed. “Say thank you to Mr. Spenser and Hawk, boys. That’s very generous of them.”

The boys responded with a uniform singsong chorus of thanks. Even Carl managed a grudging “Thanks, man.”

Jackie smiled, then turned to the boys. “When you are boxing, boys, your hands are your weapons. You need to know how to use them, and when. Mastering any weapon is about discipline and control. That’s it for today. You guys go get something to eat,” Jackie said.

The boys bolted in the direction of the kitchen. Carl’s elbows put him in the lead.

“Sorry about Carl,” Jackie said. “He’s a hard nut to crack. Been here about six months. He served time as a juvenile for breaking and entering, vandalism, car theft. You know. Pretty much kid stuff.”

“Just enough to get thrown in with guys tougher than him,” Hawk said.

Jackie looked at Hawk and nodded. “You got it. All these kids got a story. The Mexicans came over the border in Arizona being shot at; some of them saw a mother or father killed in front of them and somehow got away and reached relatives and made their way east. You take a kid like Teddy?”

“The tall one,” I said.

“Yeah. Good kid. But both parents were drunks and they dumped him. Just left him at an orphanage in Philadelphia. He had been there most of his life until he ran away and we found him. Or he found us is more like it. There’s a network of these lost street kids from city to city, and they hear about safe places to go. Some want to get there, some have already given up. These kids are so beaten up by living by the time we get them, I spend a lot of time just getting them to trust me.”

“What give you the idea to start Street Business?” Hawk said.

Jackie looked at Hawk. “I’ve always wanted to be like my big brother, Juan. A big success. Great with women. Lots of money. But it didn’t turn out that way for me. I tried a lot of things. Gambling. Selling cars. I wasn’t good at any of them. But I always liked kids. And I was lucky. My parents were good to us. As you know, my mother still lives in Lawrence, and my sisters and brothers all live nearby. Except, of course, Juan.”

“Yes, of course, Juan,” I said.

“You don’t like my brother?” Jackie looked surprised.

“I don’t know him well enough to like him or not like him. I’ve only met him once. He does seem like an international man of mystery.”

“He’s always been good to me, Spenser. And to our family. He has been generous with the fruits of his success. Without him, these kids would just be more sad stories out there on the streets. Because of Juan, they at least have a chance.”

“And because of you,” I said. “Probably more than Juan.”

Jackie shrugged as he stood. “I got to get a shower and do some chores. Thanks for coming by today. Both of you. The kids loved their boxing lesson.”

A stocky guy about my size was leaning on the wall just inside the front door, filling the space occupied by Joe on my last visit. He was wearing gray sweatpants over running shoes, and a New England Patriots sweatshirt with a matching slouch cap. He straightened up as Hawk and I approached.

“You security?” I said.

His lipped curled to form something that could have been a grin or a sneer.

“Security. Bus driver. Truant officer. Handyman,” he said. “Anything they need around this hellhole.”

“Let me guess,” I said. “You didn’t volunteer for this duty.”

“Christ, no.” The guy gave a short snort. “Volunteer.” He spat out the word like it described an unnatural act. “I’m minding my own business out in the suburbs, the boss says, ‘Frankie, get your ass into Boston and keep my little brother from falling into the Charles.’ The boss speaks, I jump. So here I am.”

“The boss would be Juan Alvarez?”

Frankie stiffened and pulled himself away from the wall.

“Who wants to know?”

“My name’s Spenser. This is Hawk. Jackie asked me to help find out who’s been causing problems for Street Business.”

Frankie relaxed and resumed his job holding up the wall.

“Lucky you. Heard about you. Super-dick come to save the day. Good luck.”

I let that pass. “What can you tell me about what’s been going on around here?”

Frankie rolled his eyes and exhaled elaborately. “Nothing going on around here. A few kids get their lunch money stolen on their way home from work.” He rallied himself from the wall to put air quotations around “work,” then settled back again. “Some get in fights and get knocked around a little. Chickenshit stuff.”

“Still,” I said. “Hard to believe, with all the crack security around here.”

He straightened up again and leaned into my face. “Screw you, Jack,” he said. “It all happens out on the street somewhere. Never had a problem in the yard or in the premises.”

“It’s Spenser,” I said. “And I think you mean ‘on the premises.’ Any idea who might be harassing the kids?”

Frankie folded his arms across his chest. I had a feeling we were experiencing his entire repertoire of poses.

“Don’t know, don’t care. Kids go out on the city streets and some get into fights. That’s a big fucking news flash. Especially with these turds. This ain’t exactly a collection of altar boys.”

“I’m sensing you’re not a big fan of Street Business.”

“You think? Best thing anyone could do is run these pissants off and take a wrecking ball to the place. Or maybe lock them in here and bring in the wrecking ball.”

“So you’re not a believer in Jackie’s mission to help kids?”

Frankie shook his head. “Guy’s got his head up his ass. He thinks if he clothes and feeds street kids they’ll grow up and save the world. Christ, these kids are animals. You dress ’em up and give ’em three squares a day, they’re still animals. Just as likely to kill Jackie in his bed as anything.”

“So you just give up and let them be animals?”

“You let their families take care of them. That’s the way I was brought up.”

“And if they don’t have family?” Hawk asked. Until then he had been silent, and his question startled Frankie.

Frankie recovered. “That’s bullshit. Everyone’s got family. If the parents aren’t around, there are aunts and uncles and grandparents. And if there aren’t any relatives, send ’em back where they came from.”

“Your boss aware of your enlightened views of his brother and his work?” I said.

“You ask him straight, I bet he’d agree with me. Juan Alvarez is one tough sonovabitch. He started with nothing and clawed his way to the top. No one gave him any handouts. He had his family and himself, and that’s it. And family is everything to Mr. Alvarez. He looks out for his own. I seen the way he supports his mother and his brothers and sisters. Especially Jackie.”

“Especially Jackie?”

“Yeah.” Frankie shook his head. “From what I hear, Jackie’s the black sheep. Always getting into trouble. Mr. Alvarez promised his mother that he’d take Jackie under his wing, straighten him out. When Jackie decides he wants to start this Romper Room, Mr. Alvarez sets him up and supports him, just like he promised Mama.”

“Doesn’t Alvarez support a bunch of charities around Boston? Street Business seems to fit with that.”

Frankie unfolded his arms and put them behind his back. Experimenting with a new pose. Conversational Frankie. Daring.

“Mr. Alvarez donates to groups that have been around a long time, that have a track record. Places that do things you can point to. Stuff connected to his businesses. Lot better places to put money than this rat hole.”