Day One
July 21, 1952
Monday Night
Su-Moon didn’t have a car but did have a 90cc scooter she called Vibrator together with the guts to use it in San Francisco traffic. When Waverly told her about what she’d learned today, Su-Moon said, “Let’s go find out if this guy-Tom Bristol-and the girl who got dropped were doing the nasty.”
Waverly raised an eyebrow.
“And how do you propose we find that out?”
Su-Moon lit a cigarette and blew smoke.
“When it comes to being a criminal, you’re not exactly a natural, are you?”
Under a black night, wearing sweatshirts and long pants, they took Vibrator across the Golden Gate Bridge into Sal Sausalito, which was an upscale community across the bay, given to bigger-than-necessary houses with hundred-dollar views carved into the hillsides and marinas down below jammed with floating houseboats.
The air was moist, salty and chilly.
According to the phone book, Tom Bristol lived at 22C, Last Lighthouse Marina.
They pulled to a stop a hundred yards short and studied the place through an eerie fog. “The docks must run in order, A, B, C, et cetera. C would be the third dock. I’m guessing that 22 is the 22nd slip down that dock.”
“You’re getting better,” Su-Moon said.
“At what?”
“At being a criminal. Let’s walk by and see if anyone’s home.”
“For the record, this is nuts.”
“For the record, duly noted.”
A cool breeze pushed the air, strong enough to wrinkle the water and rock the boats. Waverly put the hood of her sweatshirt up.
“It’s winter,” she said.
“Always.”
They walked through a nearly-packed gravel parking lot, past a large land-based building and into the docks, turning right at the third one.
The houseboats were more houses than boats, technically floating but not built for waves or much of anything other than stationary sitting.
Front porches had flowerpots.
One even had a white picket fence.
It was after ten on a Monday night.
Most of the structures were dark.
The shadows on the docks were thick and deep.
They encountered no one.
Some of the boats were numbered-fifteen, nineteen, twenty, twenty-one.
The one they wanted, 22, was dark.
They walked past, keeping an eye on it, then turned at the end of the dock and doubled back.
Waverly’s heart beat.
“He might be gone but he might be sleeping,” she said. “There’s no way to tell.”
Su-Moon said nothing.
The boat was a large box with a flat roof and a ladder up the side. Su-Moon stepped onto the front porch, transferring her weight carefully.
Waverly followed.
Su-Moon put a hand on the front door and twisted.
“It’s locked,” she whispered.
They stepped back onto the dock and then walked down a finger alongside the boat. The windows were down and the shades were drawn.
When they got to the last window, something happened that they didn’t expect.
A faint light appeared from inside.
They looked in around the edge of a shade.
This end of the boat was the bedroom. A bed abutted to the wall next to the window. The light came from two candles on a dresser. A man was sitting in the bed with his back against the wall and his legs stretched out, facing the opposite way.
A woman was draped across his lap. She wore a dress but it was pulled up past her waist. She had no panties.
The man’s hand massaged her exposed flesh.
Suddenly it rose up and spanked down.
The slap was audible.
The woman wiggled.
Then she said something.
It sounded like, “Forty-two.”
Waverly held her breath, waiting for the next spank. It didn’t come for a long time, but when it did it was hard, with two more right behind it.
The woman flinched but made no effort to get off.
Then she wiggled her body seductively.
Her head was to the left where she couldn’t see the window even if she turned.
The window was an anonymous portal.
If either of the people inside turned, Waverly and Su-Moon would have plenty of opportunity to duck down. They were invisible. Because of that, they were in no hurry.
The spanks went to a hundred.
Then the woman slid down between the man’s legs and worked her mouth.
Waverly tugged on Su-Moon’s arm and they tiptoed off.
Twenty steps down the dock Su-Moon said, “Her dress was red, did you notice that?”
“Yes I did,” Waverly said. “We need to find out who she is.”
“Why?”
“Because we may have to warn her.”