Chapter 12

I entered the lawyer’s numbers Jeff had given me into my phone. It buzzed in my ear twice before a female voice with excellent diction and of indeterminate age answered, “Good morning. Stewart, Mitchell and Green, attorneys at law. How might I help you?”

“Good morning. May I speak to Don Green?” I responded.

“Yes, sir, whom may I say is calling, please?” I gave her my name, and she put me on hold. While waiting, I found myself forced to listen to a syrupy arrangement of some sixties tune, which due to drug references in the lyrics when it was new, received play time only on FM stations. Now the tune was so old, they decided to add some violins, and it was being used for elevator music. Oh fuck, it’s probably because I’m getting old, I’m so grouchy.

Green came on the line with a high-pitched, very nasal, fast-paced voice with a lot of whine in it. “Don Green here, how may I help you?” The entire sentence was said as one word.

“Good morning Mr. Green, my name is Preston, Mathew Preston. I’m calling you in regard to Slim Rockingham. It was my friend and I that found Mr. Rockingham the other day at his houseboat...”

Green interrupted. “Good God man, that must’ve been a real shocker!”

I paused a moment, a bit startled at his interruption. “Yes, it was ... um ... unexpected. Anyway, the reason I’m calling is in regard to the houseboat...”

Again, Green interrupted me before I could finish, “I’m sorry, Mr. Reston. Until the courts have settled Mr. Rockingham’s estate, we can’t sell anything.” He paused, and I could tell he was thinking about his next statement. Finally, he continued, “And frankly, if I might say, it seems a bit disrespectful for you to call about it so quickly after the poor man’s demise.” I took a breath to calm myself, and replied, “It’s Preston, Mr. Green, not Reston, and I’m not interested in buying the houseboat. It’s already mine! I won it in a poker game a few weeks ago. Mr. Rockingham’s attorney has the title assigning interest in the houseboat to me. The reason I was at the houseboat the other day was to take possession. I called because I understand last night, you spoke with Detective Davenport with the Seattle Police Department. He mentioned you might have something to do with Slim’s estate.”

“Yes, I phoned Detective Davenport. Are you an associate of his?”

I was getting exasperated with this clown, “No, I’m just interested in clearing up the houseboat title, and making sure it isn’t accidently included in his estate.”

“Well, sir, I’m sure you’re aware I can’t discuss any details of Mr. Rockingham’s estate. Client privilege and all.” For a moment I recalled he was not Slim’s attorney. I knew who his attorney was, so what was with this client privilege shit? However, I held my tongue, and he continued, “As far as your claim regarding the houseboat,” He paused as he decided on his next words, “I haven’t heard anything about a change in ownership of the houseboat. I also don’t believe Mr. Rockingham’s stepsister, Miss Audrey Bottomsley, is aware of any changes either.

“Miss Bottomsley, Miss Audrey Bottomsley by the way, is, excuse me, and was his stepsister. I believe they shared the same father through his first marriage. I represent Miss Bottomsley, and I’m sure Mr. Rockingham’s attorney would have notified me about any change of ownership. Mr. Rockingham’s attorney and I often have discussions regarding the affairs of Mr. Rockingham and Miss Bottomsley. I can’t believe I wouldn’t have heard anything about all of this.” His last comment was spoken with a little dig, which I choose to ignore.

Knowing how attorneys bill their clients for phone calls among themselves, I could imagine they talked often, very often. This jerk was getting under my skin. And attorneys wonder why the general population has such a low opinion of them. “Sir, are you insinuating I’m somehow not telling you the truth?” I asked.

“Oh no, Mr. Priestly. I’m only saying it’s strange that until now, I haven’t heard anything about a transfer of ownership. I, of course, will have to examine any documents concerning this matter to make sure they’re in proper order. If they are, we’ll submit them when we’re settling all of Mr. Rockingham’s estate. At this time, from everything you’ve told me, I’d have to say you have nothing I wish, or need, to consider. If you have an attorney, perhaps you should have him call me. I don’t suppose you have an attorney?”

I decided to let the last question drop. If this jerk wants to play the attorney game, I’ll turn my wolves loose on him. I was positive they’d have him for brunch. I tried to be as polite as I could, “First off Mr. Green, my name is Preston! Matt Preston! And since you are not representing Slim Rockingham’s estate, I fail to understand why you need to see anything between Mr. Rockingham and myself. Client privilege and all that, you know.