said.
The Stick took out a pair of cuffs and twisted Donleavy rudely around. “Normally we wouldn?t need
these,” he said quietly in Donleavy?s ear as he snapped on the cuffs. “That was a mistake, doing that
thing with my hat. Your manners are for shit.”
“Hell,” I said, “we all make mistakes. Look at poor old Harry, he wrote his own epitaph: „Here lies
Harry Raines. He trusted the wrong man.”
Donleavy was smart enough to keep his mouth shut. We escorted him downstairs and turned him over
to two patrolmen in a blue and white and told them we?d meet them at the station.
“What do we do now?” Stick asked.
“Pray,” I said.
We didn?t have to. George Baker came running across the park as we started back toward our cars. He
was still in his wet suit, although he had changed his flippers for boots.
“Gotcha a present,” he said, and handed me an S&W .38, black handles, two-inch barrel. It was
wrapped in a cloth to protect whatever fingerprints might be on it. I checked the registration. It was
Donleavy?s gun.
“I assure you, that?s the weapon,” Baker said proudly. “It has not been underwater long enough to
gather rust.”
“Thank you, Mr. Baker,” I said with a smile. “You just saved my ass.”
“Well now, sir, that?s a compliment which I will certainly not liken to forget.”
I gave Stick the Baggie he had given me in Donleavy?s office, the one with the other S&W silverplated .38 in it.
“Where did you get this one?” I asked Stick.
“A friend of mine on Front Street,” he said.
“Beautiful,” I said.
“That was one helluva play up there,” he said. “Remind me never to play poker with you.”
“I don?t play poker,” I said.
“Love your style, man,” said the Stick.
70
MURDER ONE
I was feeling great when we got to the county courthouse. The stately brick antique stood alone in the
center of a city square surrounded by ancient oaks big enough to pass for California redwoods, and
palm trees, which seemed somehow cheap and out of place beside them. The old place seemed to
groan under its burden of history. One story had it t1at Button Gwinnett had drafted his amendments
to the Declaration of Independence in one of its second-story offices. Another that, on Christmas Eve,
