to deal with these fly-by-nights, but we intend to bring the utmost legal pressure on Merriman. Unless he refunds the difference to me, he’s bound to lose his license. He may, anyway.”
“Did Merriman know this?”
“Presumably. I told his wife. I went to his house last week and tried to talk to him, but he slipped out the back way. Thewoman tried to tell me that his skill in salesmanship was what made the difference in the price, that my house was only worth fifty thousand dollars after all. But I happen to know that they had it listed again last week, at eighty!” He pounded his knee with his veined fist. “God damn them to hell, they’re nothing but sea-lawyers. Sea-lawyers, salesmen, paid liars, are taking over the country!”
The Captain’s face had turned the color of cordovan. “I shouldn’t attempt to talk about it. It’s too hard on my coronaries. Let the law take care of Merriman and his cohorts.”
“Have you ever thought of taking care of him yourself?”
His hot eyes turned frosty. “I don’t understand you, sir.”
“I heard you threatened Merriman with a gun.”
“I don’t deny it. I thought I could frighten him into honesty. But he wouldn’t even talk to me face to face. He hid behind his wife’s skirts—”
“Have you seen him today, Captain Mandeville?”
“No. I haven’t seen him for some time. I take no pleasure in the sight of him, and my lawyer advised me not to approach him again.”
“Did you?”
“Certainly not. What are you getting at, sir?”
“Merriman was beaten to death within the last three hours, in your old house on Whiteoaks Avenue.”
His face went pale in patches. “Beaten to death? It’s a dreadful thing to say about any man, but I can’t say I’m sorry.”
“Did you do it, Captain, or have it done?”
“I did not. The accusation is outrageous, outlandish.”
“His widow is making it, though. You can expect a visit from the police before long. Can you account for the last three hours?”
“I resent the question.”
“No matter. I have to ask it.”
“But I don’t have to answer it.”
“No.”
He rose trembling. “Then I’ll ask you to leave. I’ll be glad to explain myself to the duly constituted authorities.”
I hoped he could.
chapter
10
T HE HIGHWAY RAN across flatland, prairie-like under the moon, to the edge of the Sacramento River. In the queer pale light the abrupt bridge which spanned the river resembled the approach to an ancient fortified city. The slums on the other side of the river didn’t do much to dispel the illusion. The night girls prowling the late streets, the furtive men in the doorways, looked sunk and lost forever in deep time.
The Champion Hotel was on the edge of the slums. It hadn’t subsided into them yet, but it appeared to be slipping. It was a narrow six-story building with a grimy stone face, put up around the turn of the century, when it had probably been a good family hotel. Now it had the air of a place where you could get cheap lodging without amenities you couldn’t afford: a place for one-night stands and last stands.
In a bar-and-grill next door people were singing “Auld Lang Syne.” An old man wearing a faded maroon uniform and a stubble of beard was guarding the unbesieged door of the Champion. He crossed the sidewalk on mincing feet. His shoes had been cut across the toes to make room for bunions, and his voice rose through his withered body like the audible complaint of the bunions themselves:
“You can’t park here, mister. Got to keep the curb clear. If you want to come into the hotel, you can leave your car in the parking lot around the corner. You planning to register?”
“I might as well.”
“Okay, you go around the corner to the left. You can’t go to the right, anyway, on account of they turned it into a one-way street five-six years ago.” He seemed to resent this change. “Better lock up your car, and you can come back through the alley if you want.
“Did Merriman know this?”
“Presumably. I told his wife. I went to his house last week and tried to talk to him, but he slipped out the back way. Thewoman tried to tell me that his skill in salesmanship was what made the difference in the price, that my house was only worth fifty thousand dollars after all. But I happen to know that they had it listed again last week, at eighty!” He pounded his knee with his veined fist. “God damn them to hell, they’re nothing but sea-lawyers. Sea-lawyers, salesmen, paid liars, are taking over the country!”
The Captain’s face had turned the color of cordovan. “I shouldn’t attempt to talk about it. It’s too hard on my coronaries. Let the law take care of Merriman and his cohorts.”
“Have you ever thought of taking care of him yourself?”
His hot eyes turned frosty. “I don’t understand you, sir.”
“I heard you threatened Merriman with a gun.”
“I don’t deny it. I thought I could frighten him into honesty. But he wouldn’t even talk to me face to face. He hid behind his wife’s skirts—”
“Have you seen him today, Captain Mandeville?”
“No. I haven’t seen him for some time. I take no pleasure in the sight of him, and my lawyer advised me not to approach him again.”
“Did you?”
“Certainly not. What are you getting at, sir?”
“Merriman was beaten to death within the last three hours, in your old house on Whiteoaks Avenue.”
His face went pale in patches. “Beaten to death? It’s a dreadful thing to say about any man, but I can’t say I’m sorry.”
“Did you do it, Captain, or have it done?”
“I did not. The accusation is outrageous, outlandish.”
“His widow is making it, though. You can expect a visit from the police before long. Can you account for the last three hours?”
“I resent the question.”
“No matter. I have to ask it.”
“But I don’t have to answer it.”
“No.”
He rose trembling. “Then I’ll ask you to leave. I’ll be glad to explain myself to the duly constituted authorities.”
I hoped he could.
chapter
10
T HE HIGHWAY RAN across flatland, prairie-like under the moon, to the edge of the Sacramento River. In the queer pale light the abrupt bridge which spanned the river resembled the approach to an ancient fortified city. The slums on the other side of the river didn’t do much to dispel the illusion. The night girls prowling the late streets, the furtive men in the doorways, looked sunk and lost forever in deep time.
The Champion Hotel was on the edge of the slums. It hadn’t subsided into them yet, but it appeared to be slipping. It was a narrow six-story building with a grimy stone face, put up around the turn of the century, when it had probably been a good family hotel. Now it had the air of a place where you could get cheap lodging without amenities you couldn’t afford: a place for one-night stands and last stands.
In a bar-and-grill next door people were singing “Auld Lang Syne.” An old man wearing a faded maroon uniform and a stubble of beard was guarding the unbesieged door of the Champion. He crossed the sidewalk on mincing feet. His shoes had been cut across the toes to make room for bunions, and his voice rose through his withered body like the audible complaint of the bunions themselves:
“You can’t park here, mister. Got to keep the curb clear. If you want to come into the hotel, you can leave your car in the parking lot around the corner. You planning to register?”
“I might as well.”
“Okay, you go around the corner to the left. You can’t go to the right, anyway, on account of they turned it into a one-way street five-six years ago.” He seemed to resent this change. “Better lock up your car, and you can come back through the alley if you want.
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