Rescue

yen. And your employer?“
    “My employer.“
    “Yes. The boss didn’t mind your taking off like that?“
    “I’m kind of my own boss.“
    “What business?“
    “ Dawna’s backing up my story with you by phone the reason I haven’t been booked?“
    Tidyman paused. “That, and my wanting to wait for Deputy Sherman to come in and tell me what all he got from the witnesses who were treated to a little floor show with their breakfast.“
    “And what did they say?“
    “I answered your question, how about you answering mine?“
    “My business.“
    “Yes.“
    “Self-employed, got laid off by the recession.“
    “Laid off from where?“
    “From the few customers who turned to me.“
    “For what?“
    “Consulting.“
    “On what?“
    “Various things.“
    “Give me some examples.“
    “What did the customers at Pedro’s tell Deputy Sherman?“
    Tidyman leaned back in the chair, rocking on the swivel post like an old man on his porch. “That you nearly beat three men to death.“
    “Not even close.“
    “With a roll-up newspaper.“
    “The pen is mightier than the sword.“
    “I’m wondering where you learned that.“
    “The saying?“
    “The trick with the paper.“
    “Saw it happen in a bar once.“
    “Lots of hardcases learn that trick while they’re jailing, keep some of the other boys in line.“
    “Not in this case.“
    “We, got to cap the hardcases out sometimes—release them early because we’re over capacity for the facility, even the new one down on Stock Island. They take what they learned inside, use it on the outside.“
    I nodded in sympathy.
    Tidyman said, “You ever in the service, Mr. Francis?“
    “For a while.“
    “Overseas?“
    “Yes.“
    “Southeast Asia?“
    “Here and there.“
    Tidyman came forward in the chair, forearms having a tough time finding a comfortable rest on the tabletop. “Did an inventory of your wallet. Lots of ID, lots of cash and travelers checks, but no credit cards.“
    “Never a borrower nor a lender be.“
    The pursed lips. “You’re kind of a hard man to pin down to anything, Mr. Francis.“
    “Maybe because I didn’t do anything you can hold me for.“
    “Oh, I wouldn’t say that. Deputy Sherman also did an inventory of your vehicle outside Pedro’s.“
    Shit. “It’s a rental. I hope he was gentle.“
    Tidyman nodded to Sherman, who came forward with a plastic baggie containing the revolver from my trunk. Tidyman took the baggie and dangled it a safe distance from me. “You wouldn’t happen to have a permit for this, now would you?“
    “No, I wouldn’t.“
    He waited for more. I didn’t give him any.
    “We had somebody put a bullet through one of our courtrooms on Plantation a couple years ago, the building behind our Spottswood Station. You go up to Courtroom A, you can still see the hole, keeps us alert.“ Tidyman made the baggie swing like a pendulum. “How do you suppose the law in Florida looks upon this sort of thing, Mr. Francis?“
    “What, frightened tourists still trying to bring their doollars here to spend and having a personal weapon locked in trunk?“
    “A loaded weapon?“
    “The only kind there is, and it was securely encased.“
    Tidyman lowered the baggie. “You wouldn’t happen to have had any law training, now, would you?“
    He had a good ear. I said, “Some.“
    Nodding, the sergeant handed the baggie back to Sherman . “Deputy Billups tells me you had a forceful way of contributing to one of our local churches.“
    “I wanted to be sure the money went to a good cause.“
    “That what brought you down to Mercy?“
    “Like I said, I had some time—“
    “I mean to Mercy Key in particular.“
    Tidyman’s voice had a burr in it, the iron coming through the beef. I said, “Could we speak privately?“
    He seemed to weigh things. “Deputies, would you excuse us?“
    Billups and Sherman left without a word.
    When the door was closed again, Tidyman said, “What makes you think they can’t hear us now?“
    “Four walls to this room, Sergeant. Two border the outside world, one the detention cells, and the fourth I don’t know about. But I’d be real surprised if the union let you drill holes to monitor what goes on between your officers in the squad room.“
    Tidyman grinned again. “We don’t have a union, but you’re right. The politics wouldn’t let that happen. You’ve been in, haven’t you?“
    “In?“
    “ Come on, Francis. It’s one thing to be evasive, another to