Chapter 67
I NEEDED TO stay ahead of the game today.
The first thing I did to ensure this was to drive past the Garden Spot residential hotel, where the Duke of the Tenderloin thought the odd things happening in the area had been centered.
The Garden Spot sat in the middle of the block on Ellis Street, near Hyde Street.
Some people called the area Little Saigon.
At night, the neighborhood had quite a bit of traffic, both pedestrian and vehicular.
It was one of the places where tourists mixed with the people who lived on the fringes.
Neither group seemed to appreciate the other’s presence.
I pulled to the sidewalk and sat in my Ford Explorer. There wasn’t a lot of trash on the ground, but the place didn’t feel neat and tidy. And there were still people wandering around who looked like they’d been out all night.
I could see the hotel clearly. The redbrick with streaks of black mildew, the ancient fire escapes that looked more dangerous than facing a fire.
The hotel’s original logo featured flowers and vegetables in a garden, but it had long since faded, and someone had painted a face on one of the tomatoes and turned a bushel of carrots into a bunch of orange penises.
Both changes looked like they’d been there awhile.
If I were the hotel’s manager, that’s something I would’ve taken care of immediately.
But perhaps the manager had more urgent issues to deal with.
I heard some loud voices and looked in the rearview mirror.
I saw a glittering dress and someone in jeans and a dark-red, long-sleeved shirt.
Then the loud voices turned into shouts.
Shit. It’s not my job to get involved in arguments.
Unless they turn violent. That’s why when the man grabbed the young woman by her arm, I slipped out of the car to appraise the situation.
I saw a tall, pretty Black woman in her late teens or early twenties arguing with a man who was the epitome of average.
He was about five ten, medium build, and probably in his mid-forties. His hair looked ruffled.
This was not what I had intended to get into before I’d even picked up Alain Creasy. I took a quick glance around to make sure there was no one else involved. Pedestrians on the sidewalk were giving the man and woman a wide berth. A few people were starting to gather to watch the conflict.
I considered jumping on my police radio and calling it in. My concern was that by the time a patrol car arrived, the girl might be injured. Or worse. Then the man made my mind up for me. He balled his right hand into a fist. He held it up like he was going to punch her in the face.
No way was I going to let that happen.