Five Classic Spenser Mysteries Read Online Free PDF Page A

less conspicuous.”
    “How ’bout I carry it on my head and walk behind you.”
    “Probably be a good cover,” I said, “but it might perpetuate a racial stereotype.”
    We went across Van Ness. There was a bare hintof light east down Geary Street, and an occasional car had begun to move on Van Ness. A bus came down Van Ness and stopped at the corner of Post and an elderly Oriental man got off and went up the hill past the Cathedral Hill Hotel.
    The donut shop was open and smelled steamily of coffee and fresh baked goods. We each had two donuts and two coffees, and stood at the little counter near the window and ate. A black and white San Francisco Police car stopped out front and two cops got out and came in the restaurant. They were young, both had thick mustaches. One was hatless. They got coffee and French-twist donuts to go and left.
    “Probably looking for a gorgeous Afro-American and a middle-aged honkie,” I said. “No wonder they didn’t make us.”
    Hawk grinned. “Less see,” he said. “We got two hundred dollars …”
    “Hundred and ninety-seven now,” I said. “We just did three bucks’ worth of donuts.”
    “Hundred and ninety-seven bucks, ’bout seventeen rounds of ammunition. We three thousand miles away from home and we don’t know anybody in the area, ’cept maybe that lady lawyer and I figure she can’t do much now.”
    “I think the bar association gets on your ass about aiding and abetting,” I said.
    “And Susan gone and we don’t know where …”
    “Except we figure it’s got to do with Costigan,” I said.
    “And Costigan’s papa one of the richest and also one of the baddest men in this great nation,” Hawk said.
    Outside the hint of sunrise made Van Ness Ave look a pale gray and the still-lit streetlamps showed a milder yellow, as their influence waned.
    “And we got no car, no change of clothes, no toilet paper, no champagne.” Hawk finished his second cup of coffee.
    “Lucky it you and me,” he said.
    “We’re going to find Susan,” I said.
    Hawk turned his intense expressionless gaze on me. “Oh, yes,” he said.

CHAPTER 7
    The sky over the bay was rosy as we strolled toward Union Square. Morning, seven o’clock. Along Polk Street bars and boutiques with names that punned on oral sex were unshuttering.
    “We need to get organized,” I said.
    Hawk nodded. “We need to get bread, too,” he said.
    “Part of organizing,” I said. “First thing we’ve got to do is get off the street and get a base.”
    Hawk and I were walking briskly, two guys on their way to work. No loitering, no dillydally.
    “We got to be on the wire by now,” Hawk said.
    “Yeah, but maybe no pictures yet.”
    “Don’t need pictures. Cops can stop every black guy and white guy walking together they see,” Hawk said.
    “We could hold hands,” I said, “and blend into the ambience.”
    Traffic was moving now in San Francisco. A lot of cabs. A lot of smaller foreign cars. There were people on the streets. A lot of young women, smelling of floral shampoos and scented soap and expensive perfume. They were wearing man-tailored suits with high slit skirts and carrying pursesdesigned like briefcases. Many wore running shoes with their expensive dresses and carried their high-heeled shoes in shopping bags with Neiman-Marcus logos, or the name GUMP’S . Working women, full of excitement, or vivacity, or desperation. Land of promise.
    We turned the corner on Powell Street at Union Square and walked up Powell in front of the St. Francis Hotel. The cable car was not running while the system was being overhauled, and traffic moved along Powell Street better than I’d ever seen it. At the corner of Post two good-looking women stood watching people go to work. As we passed one of them said, “You gentlemen looking for adventure?”
    Hawk looked at me, his face beginning to brighten.
    “At seven thirty in the morning,” I said.
    They were both blond. The one who spoke wore a neat red