She was near the northern end of Alaskan Way , down by Pier 70, across the road from the newly renovated Edgewater Inn. A strange part of town, paradoxical, almost schizoid, she thought. On the west side of the road were flashy hotels like the Edgewater, expensive restaurants catering to rich visitors, tourist-trap stores selling Seattle souvenirs and "genuine Amerindian artwork" produced on computer-controlled lathes and extrusion machines. Bright lights everywhere, high-tone cars being tended by chromed-up valets who doubled as sec-guards. And on the east side of the road . . .