The Man Who Shot Lewis Vance
“In one corner was a bookcase. A bed with an old-fashioned quilt covering it stood in the other corner near the window. There was a table with a white salt and black pepper shaker, an ancient sofa, and a matching chair. Another small table held a hot plate. Near the bed was a dresser. It reminded me of my own room at Mrs. Plaut’s on Heliotrope.When he turned to face me, Straight-Ahead Beason held a pistol in his hand. The pistol was aimed at my stomach. I walked carefully past him and looked out... the open window. It looked down on 14th Street. I couldn’t see my car.“Merit Beason figured you’d work it out,” he said, “but it was worth a try. You want a seat, Toby? A cup of coffee?”“Coffee would be fine, Merit,” I said. He was fully suited. I imagined him spending long nights in the chair, listening to the radio, reading, hearing the night sounds of the street, ironing handkerchiefs, getting older alone.The coffee was on the hot plate. He poured me a cup. I drank with Straight-Ahead seated across from me at the wooden table, pistol aimed at my chest.“Good,”MoreLess
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