Chapter 64
THE DUKE STROLLED toward me and Alain Creasy. For their part, the men who had confronted us apologized, then hustled out to the street and out of sight. The former tech guy wasn’t a big, imposing figure. How had he called off random street thugs?
I turned to the duke and said, “Why are they afraid of you?”
“Because, unlike the drug dealers, I have friends everywhere. I don’t rely on fear or money.
It just goes to show that if you treat people right, they respond.
Those guys don’t want the entire population of the Tenderloin coming down on them.
Either shunning them completely or maybe ratting them out to the cops. ”
“Sounds like you don’t need the police as much as you think you do.”
“That’s not true, Sergeant. You know as well as I do most people don’t treat others well. If we didn’t have police roaming the streets, we wouldn’t be able to roam the streets.”
I said, “Duke, this is Alain Creasy, from Interpol.”
Alain smiled at Barry and said, “Hello. A pleasure to make your acquaintance, sir.”
The Duke of the Tenderloin smiled broadly. He nodded his head and said, “Ahhh, vous êtes francais? Bonjour. Comment allez-vous?”
The duke’s easy switch into French caught me by surprise but seemed to delight Alain. After they’d chatted for a while, I had to ask Barry where he’d learned to speak such good French.
“In another life—or should I say in my previous life—I had to talk to international customers quite a bit. It’s too hard to explain technology in a language you don’t understand. While sewing up the French market, I worked very hard at picking up the language.”
It made me more curious than ever about the man he used to be.
I told the duke that we had a possible ID on the body from Marshall’s Beach.
The duke bowed his head and said, “What was her name?”
“Donna ‘Missy’ Harris.”
He was quiet for a full thirty seconds. When he looked up at me, I saw a tear on his cheek. “I will remember her every day. It’s too easy to forget the people cast aside by society.”
The three of us sat down on some crates in the alley. The duke said, “Odd things have been happening in the Tenderloin. Strangers have been talking to young women. Some of the young women who lived here have moved on without a word. It’s all very concerning.”
He mentioned a residential hotel a few blocks away that seemed to be a hub for this activity.
I knew the place. The Garden Spot. A six-story, ramshackle building with about sixty rooms. Not exactly a tourist attraction.
The city administrators had used it to house homeless people, but unfortunately it had been corrupted over the years.
Now it was apparently a center for prostitution and drug dealing.
After we said our good-byes, Alain and I turned and started walking toward my car.
It was late afternoon and there were a lot of people around. We stopped for a minute in front of the Luz Hotel.
Suddenly, we heard a clear gunshot. A bullet impacted about a foot above Alain’s head on the side of the hotel.
Close enough to spray concrete chips onto his head.
We both jumped forward and ducked behind a parked car. Alain was remarkably calm. I pulled my duty weapon in case someone tried to come closer to finish the job.
After a second, I took a quick peek over the hood of the older Chevy. Only a few people on the street had even realized what had happened. Most people went about their day. I looked but couldn’t see who’d fired the shot. I wasn’t even sure exactly where it had come from.
Was this a case of being in the wrong place at the wrong time? Or were we getting too close to something?