Chapter 61
I’D ENJOYED SHOWING Alain Creasy the beautiful areas outside San Julio, seeing the appreciation in his eyes when he gazed at the rolling hillsides dotted with trees.
Now I was almost embarrassed when we drove into the Tenderloin.
Literally, the first thing we saw was a fat guy with a shaved head peeing on the side of a building in plain view.
I was hoping Alain didn’t notice, but he chuckled and said, “To be honest, I was expecting worse. There is a joke about people in the US defecating on the sidewalks. I don’t know if it’s true, but I’ve been preparing myself for it.”
“I’m sorry to see any of it. I grew up in San Francisco. It hasn’t always been this way. But it’s not quite as bad as TV news reports would have you believe. As a whole, San Francisco is one of the most beautiful big cities in the country.”
I found a place to park near the diner where I thought I’d find the Duke of the Tenderloin.
Alain said, “This person we wish to meet is… How should I put it? An aristocrat?”
I didn’t mean to snicker; it just struck me as funny. “No, it’s just a nickname he likes. He’s been helpful, and it’s not a big deal here to call him ‘Duke.’ He’s just a smart guy who flamed out of mainstream life.”
“‘Flamed out’?”
“Overcome with stress. Now he lives on the street, but he sees everything.”
“An informant?”
“Yes and no. He’s not looking for money. And he’s not a criminal who needs to barter information. I respect that he doesn’t hurt anyone, and he has a sense of right and wrong. I think he really is trying to make the neighborhood better in his own way.”
“So this is more than just part of my San Francisco tour. You are actually conducting an investigation here?”
“We need to talk to the duke, but I’m also looking for a girl named Elizabeth Nunez.” I stopped and pulled her photo up on my phone. I showed it to Alain, who nodded. I told him her story.
Alain said, “I see. Pretty, approached by a tall man. You could be right. She could be a missing part of your investigation.”
We continued on our trek. I was surprised that Alain was able to keep up a very fast pace despite his belly and a slight limp.
I was having trouble reconciling his cop background with his grandfatherly tourist behavior.
He wore a vintage-looking checked jacket that could have come straight from one of his beloved old TV detective show costume departments.
And he kept looking up at the taller buildings and following all the pedestrian traffic rules.
It was all I could do not to hold his hand like I do with Julie when we’re walking through the city. It was maddening.
We checked in a couple of places for the duke. In one alley, three men gave us the stink eye as Alain looked over to see what they were doing. Just as I was about to turn him around, one of the men shouted, “What the fuck are you doing in here?”
I tried to pull Alain in the other direction, but we were too late.