“Let’s keep canvassing,” McAdams said. “My motto is the fewer people to muck things up, the better.”

Decker said, “What do you think about an overnight stay here?”

“How long do you think our business here will take?”

“I don’t know. But I want to investigate this area thoroughly, which means I want to talk to all the restaurant and bar people. Plus, I want to go back to Elsie’s house and canvass there. Why rush it if Rina’s not home anyway?”

“For one thing, I didn’t pack anything.”

“I know you’re used to the good life, but you can survive without a change of clothes.” Decker looked at his phone for inns. “Sorry, Harvard, I don’t see a Ritz nearby.”

“Anything Relais & Châteaux will do, old man.” McAdams smiled. “Would it be too much to ask for something clean?”

Decker looked at his map. “There’s a MotoInn about a half mile away. There’s also what looks like a boutique hotel called the Lancaster’s Red Rose that’s a few blocks away. Should we check it out?”

“What’s least likely to give me bedbugs?”

“Don’t know, but the local place is way more likely to give us information.”

McAdams sighed. “Then the Lancaster’s Red Rose it is.”

AT THREE-FORTY-FIVE, THEY checked in to their respective rooms. Decker’s was small and furnished with Victorian repros. There was a worn dresser with a ceramic washbasin sitting on top of it—unnecessary because the place did boast indoor plumbing. The bed was small but sufficient for one person. The mattress was lumpy and the coils squeaked. The nightstand held fresh flowers in a small vase. The bathroom had shampoo, soap, and plenty of hot water as amenities. Decker showered, re-dressed, and met McAdams in the lobby a half hour later. They called Jake Quay, who said he’d meet them at the hotel at five. In the meantime, they found a drugstore, where they bought toothbrushes, toothpaste, a bag of disposable razors, and two combs.

They went back to the hotel, and Decker left the bag with the front desk. The woman in charge had short lemon-colored hair, a pale face, and brown eyes. She looked to be in her fifties. Her name tag announced her as Beth. She said, “Would you like me to put these up in your rooms?”

“We’ll get them on our way back.” Decker looked to his right. The hotel had a small bar and cocktail lounge. He took out a picture of Pauline Corbett. “Do you know this woman?”

“That’s Pauline,” Beth said immediately. Her eyes narrowed. “Why?”

Decker took out his badge. “We’re looking for information about her.”

“Why? What did she do?”

“Ongoing investigation.”

Beth regarded the billfold and said, “The badges look real enough. But so did the other guy’s badge.”