(Copyright)
By Tony Walther
“I’ll get the car inspector,” Lt. Davis said.
The inspector seemed lost in thought and did not acknowledge the lieutenant.
“Is something wrong sir?” Lt. Davis asked.
“No, I heard you. Yes, you get then car. But go ahead without me. You know how to interview. You don’t need me. I’ll take the street car as I usually do. You can meet me later at the Seagull.”
Lt. Davis raised his eyebrows and then said: “You’re the boss — you outrank me.”
In the darkness of the Sunset Tunnel, the streetcar rolled along making the hummummum sound, which was soothing to the inspector’s mind. He pondered where he might have seen the short man who was their only suspect. By the time he sat down on his bar stool at the Seagull, he recalled.
“Stevey, isn’t there a little short guy who sometimes comes in here and sits quietly in the corner?”
“Little Henry. He’s a fuss budget. He used to sit at the bar sometimes, but he was always getting into an argument. I run a peaceful place. Never have to call the cops. I told him, from now on, if you come in here, sit in the corner and mind your own business. He just comes in occasionally now, usually on Fridays after he gets paid.”
“Was he in last Friday?”
“No, he wasn’t.”
“Do you know where Henry lives?”
“No, he never said. I don’t talk to him anymore than I have to. Why are you looking for him? No, don’t tell me. He’s the guy who’s been grabbing the young girls off the street. Well, lucky you’re on to something. The papers are having a field day with this one. ‘Teenage girls vanish off the streets of Sunset and cops do nothing.’”
“Who says that?!” the inspector demanded.
“Hey, hold on there Cracky, I’m just quoting the newspaper. Didn’t you read the Sunday paper and the paper today?”
“I’m not interested in what the papers say,” the inspector lied. In reality, he was embarrassed he hadn’t read the papers. It was out of character for him.
He sat for hours watching and listening and occasionally engaging in short conversation as the customers came and went. The clientele was predominantly male, mostly working class men or retired men, with an occasional lawyer or businessman. Rarely they might be accompanied by a woman.
There was considerable talk about the vanishing girls of Sunset as one of the papers referred to in its stories. Some people asked the inspector about it. Some brave ones even questioned why he was sitting in the bar, to which he allowed, what better place to get leads?
The talk of possible culprits centered on transients from the park and old men who walked around the neighborhoods.
The inspector felt a tap on his shoulder and turned to find a beaming Lt. Davis staring him in the face.
“Inspector, we’ve got an arrest.”
Tags: arrest, inspector, Seagull bar, street car
