For two years he had operated in a world of improvisation, of pressure applied gradually, of a situation he could keep managing because no one with any real power was paying attention.
And now, all at once, three vehicles had pulled up in careful order, and he understood that someone with power had been paying very close attention indeed, and had spent the afternoon getting ready, and that the improvising was over.
Chapter 15 — The Property Owner
Julian, to his credit, tried.
He set his glass down on the little table by the door and crossed his arms and pulled himself up into the posture of a reasonable man dealing with an overreaction.
“Officers,” he said, “I appreciate you coming out, but this is a family misunderstanding, that’s all.
My sister-in-law just flew back from overseas and she’s upset.
My wife and I are legal residents of this home.
You can’t remove residents without a proper eviction notice.
There’s a whole process.”
The older of the two officers, a solid, unhurried man whose name I would learn was Davis, did not answer Julian.
He turned instead to Arthur.
“Is this the property owner?” he asked, nodding toward me.
Arthur opened his leather portfolio.
“My client, Evelyn, holds the sole and unencumbered deed to this property,” he said, and he handed the officer a set of stamped documents.
“She purchased it outright.
Every utility account is in her name.
She pays the property taxes.
And she has never, at any time, signed a lease with these two individuals, written or spoken.”
Officer Davis took the documents and looked them over slowly, page by page, in no particular hurry, while Julian watched him do it with a muscle working in his jaw.
