The Investigations of Avram Davidson by Avram Davidson Read Free Book Online Page A

mail and phone. Sally’s body was in an alley on the other side of town. Sally was being held for ransom. A woman had seen her from the window of a bus in another state; she was coming out of a bar.
    â€œSpeaking of bars,” suggested Bonn, “let’s circulate in a few of them. For all I know the girl is what they say she is, but maybe she isn’t. If there’s any dirt, you hear it over the bar.” Steinberg nodded.
    Perhaps it is because Americans have guilt feelings about drinking during daylight hours that almost all bars are dark and dim. When the first place fell into focus after the bright street, the detective partners observed that there was a moderate gathering in the bar-cavern. An elderly woman with wild white hair and a cracked-enamel face was crooning into her beer, “I don’t care, you go ahead ’n laugh if you wahnoo, but I say, in my opinion, all these young girls disappearing: it’s the white slave trade. What I think.”
    â€œNaa,” said a sharp-looking young man a few stools down. “That’s all a thinga the past. No mystery in my opinion. Girl changed her mind. Woman’s privulidge, is’n it, Mabel? And she’s afraida go home.”
    The man to his right met this suggestion with such an insufferable smirk that the sharp-looking fellow was nettled. “All right, Oscar,” he said, “whadda you think?”
    â€œI think they oughta drag the river,” said Oscar. Bonn looked up. He saw out of the corner of his eye that his partner had caught it, too.
    â€œWeren’t you over by the Benners’ place yesterday?” Steinberg asked Oscar.
    Oscar said, “Yeah, he’d went over to a take a look. But the cops kept moving everybody on.”
    â€œ You saw that, did’n ya? Howdaya like that? ‘Move along, keep moving,’” he mimicked. “No wonder they ain’t found nothing out yet. Waste all their time like that.”
    Bonn said, “Yeah, well, I heard you make the observation at that time that they ought to drag the river.”
    â€œAnd I still say it.”
    Mabel ordered another beer. The sharp-looking young man took a look at Bonn, observed Steinberg, affected a startled glance at the clock, and was suddenly gone. Steinberg moved into his place. “Well, now, Oscar, that’s a long, long river,” he said. “Where do you think they ought to start dragging? Because unless they pick the right spot, they could spend a year and not find anything. Where would you imagine is the best place?”
    Oscar studied his face in the mirror. Bonn moved in from the other side. “From the Point, maybe?” Bonn suggested. Oscar snorted. Bonn, seemingly offended, said, “What’s the matter with the Point?”
    Steinberg said, “Well, where then? Come on, Oscar. I’m really interested.”
    â€œYou guys reporters or sumpthing?”
    Bonn nodded. Oscar brightened, turned to face him.
    â€œNo kidding?” he exclaimed. “You writing up this story?”
    â€œI’ve got my car outside,” Bonn said. “Why don’t we take a ride down by the river?” Oscar thought that was a fine idea. He and Bonn went out.
    Steinberg said to the bartender, “And who might that guy be?”
    The bartender shrugged. “One of old man Portlin’s nephews. Old lady died maybe a month back, Portlin don’t like to live alone so he invites Oscar to move in with him. What does Oscar do? Well, matter of fact, I don’t b’lieve he does anything. Except play cards, drink beer, and watch the TV. And shoot off his big mouth, like for instance just now.”
    *   *   *
    T HERE WERE PARKS along the river, wastes, factories, and docks, some of them abandoned. Bonn and Oscar Portlin walked along one of the docks. “Look how dangerous it is,” said Oscar. “Girl could of come down for a walk, tripped,