garage on Fulsome Street. You can’t miss it.” She gave him directions to the place. “Just leave the keys in the glove box when you get back.”
“I will. Thanks.”
“And Archer? Be careful when you go out there.”
“Your old man pulled a shotgun on me last time I was there. Careful is all I’m going to be.”
Chapter 22
ARCHER ROSE EARLY the next morning, washed his face, armpits, and other strategic locations of his person in the communal bath, put on fresh socks and underwear, and headed down the hall. He halted when he saw the door to 615 standing open.
“Hello?” he said, poking his head in.
The door swung fully open, and there was Shaw eyeballing him. He had on another suit, a faded gray double-breasted with a black-and-white polka-dot tie and a pair of scuffed black moc toe shoes. His hair was neatly combed and his features fresh. He smelled of aftershave and had another unlit stogie perched in his mouth.
“You’re up early, Archer.”
“Don’t like to let the grass grow under my feet. You never know when you might get yanked off ’em.”
“Let me ask you something. Come on in here.”
Archer stepped through and Shaw closed the door behind them. He pointed to the connecting door. “You ever been in that room?”
“No. And if my damn fingerprints are on that doorknob then somebody put ’em there.”
“Get off your high horse and just listen. We didn’t find a single fingerprint on the two doorknobs there, or the two on the hall door to 617.”
“Okay.”
“You find that puzzling?”
“Should I?”
“Presumably he went into that room on occasion? Why would there be no prints there?”
“You mean someone might have wiped them off?”
“Bingo.”
Archer looked at the connecting door. “Jackie told me he had the two rooms, but she didn’t tell me what for. Thought it was a waste, a man having two rooms. But she said he wanted ’em, and the man owns the whole hotel, so he can have what he wants.”
“Interesting. How’s your ‘job’ coming?”
“Well, I met with Mr. Pittleman and his wife before he was killed to let them know something.”
“Really now, what was that?”
“That Mr. Tuttle had apparently torched the car that was collateral for the loan from Mr. Pittleman that I was trying to collect for him.”
“Did he, by God?”
“I didn’t see him do it, but I saw the Caddy all burned up.”
“What were you doing out there, then?”
“Trying to get the damn car. It was collateral after all. That’s legal, right? Pittleman said it was.”
“Don’t know, Archer. I don’t do anything with debts and collateral and such.”
“Well, since I didn’t touch the car, no harm, no foul regardless.”
“Why wouldn’t Tuttle pay back the loan if it’s owed?”
“His daughter was hanging out with Pittleman, and Lucas Tuttle hated that. Told me he’d pay the loan if Jackie came back home. So long as she was with Pittleman, he wasn’t paying.”
“So Old Man Tuttle had a grudge against Pittleman, then?”
Archer was alarmed. “Now hold on. Don’t go get all riled up about him. He wasn’t going to do anything against Pittleman. I told him I was working on it. And, hell, if he was going to kill the man, he wouldn’t use a knife. He woulda shot him with the same damn Remington he pointed at me when I went out there.”
Shaw shook his head and grinned.
“What?” asked Archer.
“I just right now put up another plausible suspect to have killed Pittleman and you shot it down, boy. Are you dumb or just too honest, or both?”
“I did my time. I’m not looking to have anyone go behind bars if they did nothing wrong. I know how that feels.”
“So, you were innocent, were you?”
“Hell, yes, I was.”
“If I had a dollar for every time I’ve heard that.”
“Yeah, I know, you’d be as rich as a Rockefeller.”
“No, I’d be richer.” He eyed the connecting door to 617. “Want to see what’s in there?”
“You want me to?”
“Maybe you’ll see something I missed.”
Shaw opened the door and they passed through. It was then that Archer could see why the man wanted two rooms.
“Is this his office?” he said, looking around.
“It is indeed.”
There was a large desk with a glass top with a squat black phone sitting on it and a slim white phone book next to it. On the other side of the desk was a tobacco pouch; a briar pipe with a worn mouthpiece was aligned next to it, and a box of Van Dyck cigars sat alongside that. A calendar sat in its own