Crow Bait

Twenty-five

The Autry was a run-down two-story hotel that looked one good storm away from being a pile of rubble.

“You know the owner here?” Lancaster asked.

“No,” Ledge said. “I knew the previous owner, but he was killed.”

“By the present owner?”

“No, by a former guest.”

“What about clerks?” Lancaster asked. “Know any of the clerks?”

“That depends,” Ledge said with a shrug. “Why don’t we just go in and see who’s working? I might know ’em, but I might not.”

They approached the hotel and entered the lobby. There were the remnants of a couple of chairs on the floor, as if there had just been a fight. Behind the desk a bored clerk watched them as they came up to the desk.

“You ain’t lookin’ fer a room,” he said.

“How do you know?” Lancaster asked

“I can tell. You got somethin’ on yer mind.”

“I got some questions,” Lancaster agreed. “Are you gonna have some answers?”

“I guess that depends on how bad you want answers,” the clerk said. He was young and cocky for a young fellow who worked in a dump.

“How bad do I need to?” Lancaster asked.

“Well, you can threaten me, maybe beat me up,” the clerk said, “but that’ll take longer.”

“Longer than what?”

“Payin’ me.”

The young man seemed pretty sure of himself. Lancaster noticed he had one hand in view and the other below the desk. What were the chances he had a gun underneath the desk?

“Well,” Lancaster said, “I could pay you, but the fact of the matter is I don’t have any money, so we’re gonna have to go another way.”

“Hey, I gotta gu—”

Working as one, Lancaster and Ledge picked up the front desk and rammed it and the clerk against the wall behind them. The clerk cried out, both hands going out to try to protect himself.

Lancaster and Ledge pulled the flimsy desk away and tossed it aside, where it fell to pieces. On the floor at their feet was an old Navy Colt that the clerk had been holding.

“Okay,” Lancaster said, grabbing the clerk by the front of the shirt and pulling him up, “we went another way.”

“Take it easy,” the clerk said. “I’m just tryin’ to make a few extra dollars.”

“How about no money, and no beatin’ up?” Ledge asked. “We’ll just ask some questions and you answer ’em.”

“Okay, then,” the clerk said. “That’ll work.”

“I want to see your register for the past couple of weeks,” Lancaster said.

“Why didn’t you just say so? It’s on the floor, there. Um, with my broken desk.”

Ledge looked down at his feet, saw the book, and picked it up. He passed it to Lancaster, who let go of the clerk and opened the book.

“Here we go,” Lancaster said. “It was actually about a week ahead of me. Sweet, Adderly, and Cardiff.”

“You remember them?” Ledge asked.

“Who wouldn’t remember a man named Sweet?” the clerk asked. “He was touchy about it.”

“You ever hear them talk about where they were goin’ when they left here?” Lancaster asked.

“You sure there ain’t a few dollars in this for me?” the clerk asked.

“I can wrap the rest of this desk around your neck,” Ledge said.

“Hey, okay,” the clerk said. “I heard somethin’ about Henderson, and I think one of them said somethin’ about Peach City, or somethin’ like that.”

“Peach City?” Lancaster asked.

Ledge just shrugged.

“Never heard of it,” he said.

“That it?” Lancaster asked the clerk.

“Hey, mister,” he said, “that’s all I heard.”

Lancaster looked at Ledge again and the man said, “I think that’s all we’re gonna get.”

Lancaster pushed the register into the clerk’s chest. The man grabbed it with both arms.

As Lancaster and Ledge headed for the door, the clerk called out, “What am I gonna tell my boss happened to the desk?”

Lancaster turned, waved at the floor, and said, “Blame it on whoever broke these chairs.”

As they went out the door, they heard the clerk mutter, “That’s actually not a bad idea.”