San Francisco Night Read Online Free Page B

Lovely lady, very sympathetic. She came to see me when I first reported Father missing and said that the police would do their best but I never heard from her again. I did call but she was never in the office. I think I have her card here somewhere. Now where is it?”  She smiled triumphantly. “Ah, here it is.” She handed a business card to Nightingale. On the left of the card was the seal of the San Francisco Police Department and its motto – ‘Gold in Peace, Iron in War’.
    “As you’ve probably realized, the police are only really interested if the missing person is a child or a pretty girl. Father Mike was an old man.” She shrugged. “It’s the way of the world, I’m afraid.”
    “Could I see his room, if it’s not too much to ask? I’d like to get a feel for the way he lived.”
    “I don’t see why not.  His room is as he left it, the diocese had paid his fees until the end of this month so nothing’s been touched.”
    “And what happens at the end of the month?”
    “We have a long waiting list of potential guests, so in all likelihood his belongings will be put into storage and the room re-allocated. Unless of course, he returns before then.”
    “And you don’t think that’ll be happening?”
    “To be honest with you, no. He couldn’t have taken care of himself for three weeks, so unless someone has been looking after him.” She shrugged. “It’s horrible, isn’t it? I can’t understand how a man can simply just disappear in this day and age. Anyway, I’ll get Marlon to show you his room. It can’t hurt.”
    She touched an intercom button on her desk and asked whoever answered to send Marlon in. The tall, bald man re-appeared inside a minute.
    “Marlon, show this gentleman to Father Mike’s room, if you would.” She smiled at Nightingale. “I’m nearly done for the day, so Marlon will show you out when you’re done. Perhaps you’d be good enough to send me a copy of the article when it’s done?”
    “I’ll make sure you get a copy. Thanks for chatting to me, I appreciate it.”
    Marlon had the door open and ushered Nightingale out. By the time he closed the door behind him, Ms. Winthrop was busying herself with some papers.
    Nightingale followed the big man down one of the corridors, past a number of the other residents. ‛Guests’ had been Ms. Winthrop’s term for them, but Nightingale though that ‛inmates’ might be more appropriate. Wheelchairs, walkers, crutches, sticks and every face showed the pain that any movement brought. Some of them nodded and smiled at Marlon and even looked quizzically at Nightingale, but others stared blankly ahead, and were led along by orderlies. All the movement puzzled Nightingale.
    “Where’s everyone going?” he asked.
    “Down to the main lounge, I imagine. There’s bingo most nights.”
    Marlon stopped outside a room and unlocked it with a master key.
    “Here you are, sir. I’ll wait outside, it would be pretty crowded with both of us in there.”
    Nightingale stepped into the room. It wasn’t much bigger than a prison cell. The furniture was just an armchair, desk, a wooden chair and a bed, which had raised sides and an electric switch hanging on the wall next to it. Presumably it could be raised by orderlies or nurses. There was also a built-in wardrobe, one half hanging space and the other shelves. Two dark suits, four white shirts, two black ones with clerical collars and a dressing gown were hanging inside. The shelves held underwear, handkerchiefs, socks and a scarf. Everything was freshly-laundered and pressed.
    There was a small bathroom attached, It was immaculately clean, with unused white towels on the rails. The toilet, basin and bath were green with handrails placed next to all of them. There was a mirrored cabinet over the basin, which held only a toothbrush, paste and two wrapped bars of soap. Presumably Father Mike hadn’t been permitted a razor.
    Nightingale walked back into the bedroom. Apart from the