Richardson let Leland proceed with his new idea. It was a bad one, he thought, but worth a try because it was cheaper and quieter than a public city-wide dragnet. Richardson was sure that Tesla had beat it back to Canada. Leland agreed that Tesla was seeking safety, but he was certain that Tesla had returned again to the beach where he had worked last summer. In February he and Leikman had driven there in the rented car: it was an explanation for the sand in Tesla’s room. The sand had fallen out of the clothes Tesla had worn that day as he had been packing them on the murder night. A man who went to bed dirty would leave sandy clothes hanging in a closet for six weeks. Richardson was willing to accept that. Leland’s plan was to check the beaches inside the twenty-three-and-a-half-mile radius the mileage on the rented car indicated.

The map showed that there were three beaches inside that area. Richardson let Leland have six men. If they produced nothing by the end of the day, they would review the entire matter.

Leland sent Tanner and Maule to Northport, a city beach, Curran and Quillan to Piantic Bay, thirteen miles south of the city, and he took Schoenstein with him to Clarendon, eighteen miles south. His feeling was that Clarendon was the best choice. The largest and most expensive resort, it was developing a reputation similar to Joytown’s. After checking in at the Clarendon Borough Police Headquarters, he and Schoenstein went about their business. At two o’clock, Tanner and Maule joined them. They had found nothing at North-port. In the afternoon paper Herbert Davis accused Leland of flippancy and grandstanding. Joytown was a serious problem. Leland’s remarks were a disservice to the Police Department and Port Smith. For the city’s sake, Davis hoped that Leland’s actions would erase the terrible impression of his words.

At four-ten P.M., at 18 Furnast Place in South Clarendon, a small, paunchy man in his fifties opened the door to Leland’s ringing.

“Port Smith Police Department, sir. Last summer did you have a roomer here by the name of Felix Tesla?”

“That’s right. What about him?”

“Have you seen him recently?”

“This morning, when he went out for breakfast. He’s up in his room now. Why do you want him?”

Leland raised his hand to quiet him. Schoenstein went down the steps to signal Tanner and Maule on the other side of the street. They came running. “Now, quietly,” Leland said. “Who else is in the house?”

“No one. Just me.” He looked frightened.

“Which is Tesla’s room?”

“Number three. Up the stairs.”

“Get across the street—we want him for murder. Tanner, cover the alley. Maule, on the boardwalk. Dave, back me up. No shooting. Ready to go in sixty seconds.”