brother and sister but claim they’re man and wife? Talk with a real strong English accent?”
Something changed in Deason’s face. His eyelids drooped and his pursed mouth formed a crafty smile just before he said, “British accents, you say?”
“English. British.”
“Both kinda tall and skinny and blond?”
“Exactly.”
“What’ll you do with ‘em?”
“Me and my associate here, Mr. Chang, will pay ‘em a call. We’ll ask for a full refund of the fare they stole. Then we’ll make sure they settle their bill with the innkeeper. You. Then we’ll put ‘em in that
black Mercedes out there and give ‘em a fast ride to the police station.” Stallings paused. “In other words, Mr. Deason, we’ll make a citizen’s arrest.”
“What about the five-hundred-dollar reward?”
“It’ll be paid on the spot. Cash. No receipt required.”
Behind closed lips, Deason ran his tongue back and forth across the front of his lower teeth. Artie Wu decided it was part of a decision-making process.
“Room four-twenty-four,” Deason said. “Been here since last Friday.
Registered as Mr. And Mrs. Reginald Carter of Manchester, England.
Don’t know what they came in, but they didn’t have a car and I never like the look of that. Had one big suitcase and two small carryalls.
Nothing else. But listen, I don’t want no damage. They paid me three days cash in advance and I just want the rest of what they owe me and the reward you promised. Once you ride off with ‘em, you do what you please.”
“I wish everyone was as public-spirited, Mr. Deason,” Stallings said and turned to Wu. “Pay the man, Mr. Chang.”
Wu scowled. “I think we oughta wait and see if they’re really in four-twenty-four. I think he oughta give us a key. I think we oughta surprise ‘em. And if they’re the ones, then I think we oughta give him his five hundred.”
Stallings nodded in judicious agreement. “Mr. Chang here has had himself a whole lot of experience in stuff like this. So maybe you oughta give him the key to four-twenty-four like he says.”
Deason made no reply. Instead, he ran his tongue over the front of his lower teeth again, half turned, took a key from a slot, placed it on the countertop, stepped back quickly and said, “I don’t want nothing busted up, understand?”
Wu picked up the key, examined it suspiciously, examined Deason the same way, scowled again and said, “You mean you don’t want none of the furniture busted up, right?”
“Especially the TV set,” Deason said.
“Don’t worry,” said Artie Wu, aimed a nod at the door and told Stallings, “Let’s go get this crap over with.”
Thirty
Artie Wu would later say that the car was a black Chevrolet Caprice sedan. Booth Stallings would later say that although he could identify any American car manufactured between 1932 and 1942, he could no longer tell one postwar car from another. But he agreed with Wu that the black car had been a sedan and that the low-in-the-sky, 4:12 P.M.
February sun had splashed a blinding reflection across the car’s windshield, making it impossible to identify the driver who tried to run them down.
The car had backed out of a space at the bottom of the motel’s U-shaped layout as Wu and Stallings walked toward unit number 424.
They paid little attention to the car until it picked up speed and veered toward them at 30 miles per hour, according to Wu, and 50 miles per hour, according to Stallings.
They went to their left, but so did the black Caprice, and it was Stallings who first leaped between two parked cars, tripped, fell and landed mostly on his hands and knees. After Wu’s great leap to the left, he stumbled over Stallings, fell, but bounced up and hurried out from between the parked cars to catch a brief glimpse of the black Caprice as it turned right and disappeared down the street.
Wu hurried back to Stallings and helped him to his feet. “Break anything?” Wu asked.
“Bruised some ego. You get the license?”
“No.”
“Think it was them—the Goodisons?”
Wu shrugged. “Let’s find out.”
As they continued toward the bottom of the motel’s U, Stallings wrapped a handkerchief around his left hand, which he had skinned on the asphalt. When they reached 424, neither was surprised to find that the black sedan had backed out of the space directly in front of the unit.
Although Wu had the room’s key in his hand, he said, “Let’s knock first.”
“What for?”
“Never hurts to be polite.”
