Chapter 22

Even though it was a cloudy Thursday morning, I was still in a great mood because of the way the meeting between Richard and Bottomsley’s people had turned out. In addition, every time I thought of that funny little blue hat perched on top of Audrey’s blue curls, and the way the fake daisy would swing back and forth as she moved, I had an ear-to-ear grin. When I considered how frightened Jennifer had been about the meeting beforehand and how well things turned out, it had been a great day.

Thankfully when I took BJ out for her morning walk, she did her things fairly quickly. It wasn’t raining yet, but I could tell it wasn’t far off. After we returned, I poured a cup of coffee, and then called Jeff L. It had been a couple of days since we talked, and I wondered if they had gotten any word back on the identity of the John Doe killed in my back lot. Davenport caught the phone on the first ring. Once he knew who was on the phone his tone of voice went cold and demanding, there were no pleasant greetings. “Matt, I’m glad you called. I was just getting ready to give you a call. We’d like you to come down to the station. Right now!”

I was thinking he needed to lighten up a little but said nothing. I felt this was not the way to convince me to come down and see him. “Why, good morning, Jeffers...” I paused and got no response. I continued, “Okay, why? Why do I need to come down to the station right now? And what is this ‘we’ thing?”

There was a pause, and his voice softened a little, “Matt ... ah ... as an old friend, I’m asking you to come here on your own. Please don’t make this difficult.”

I couldn’t help it. He was badgering me, and my voice was taking on an edge, “Listen, if you’re going to play the old friend card, remember, this is me, Matt! I’m playing the same card buddy, what the hell is going on?”

Now there was no masking the authoritative tone in his voice, “Matt, you have a choice, come here on your own, or I’ll send out a car to bring you in.”

I was pissed, and I made no effort to keep my voice from showing it. “Oh, really! So, are you telling me I’m under arrest?”

The voice of authority was still there, “Not exactly. What I’m saying is we have some questions we want to ask.” There was a slight pause and when he continued, I thought his voice was a bit softer. “If it were up to others here at the station, this whole thing would be done a lot differently if you catch my drift.”

I was not going to back down, “And I still want to know detective, who are ‘we’? If you want me to come in so bad, why won’t you tell me what’s going on?”

Jeff L.’s voice sounded as if he was almost begging and was as soft as it had been during our entire phone call. “Matt, please do both of us a big favor, and get your ass down here. Now! I am begging you and this is my last request!”

I’d had enough of this bull; it was time to end this phone call. I popped off, “I’ll think it over, buddy! Ciao.”

As I pushed the end button on my phone, I heard Jeff L.’s voice shouting, “Matt, don’t hang up!”

I wondered what was going on. This was the first time I ever had Jeff L. pull his cop routine on me and it made me feel a bit concerned. I decided it was time to call Albert Bradson. I had no idea what was going on, but it felt like I needed some kind of legal counsel in my corner.

I called Albert’s number and found he was in his office, I’d lucked out. I gave him a quick rundown on what had happened since I’d seen him last. I told him how when I asked Jeff L. if I was under arrest, he avoided the question and then he’d threatened to send out a squad car. I asked Albert if he thought I might need someone there to represent me.

Albert asked me if I’d told him everything and after a moment’s thought, I said I couldn’t think of anything more. He told me he’d meet me at the station in an hour. Albert ended our phone call with a word of caution, “I’d make myself very scarce until we meet downtown. I don’t know what’s going on, but you don’t want the police to pick you up and bring you in. You do realize they could take their time letting me in to see you, and we don’t want that. Okay?”

“Thanks Albert. Thank you for everything.”

“Don’t thank me yet, Matt. We still don’t really know what’s going on down there and what’s caused this sudden change in attitude. See you in an hour.”

I called Jeff L. back. When I told him who it was and he started in, “Don’t you ever hang...” I interrupted him by telling him to shut up. I proceeded to tell him I’d be at his office in an hour, and then quickly hung up again before he had a chance to say anything else. Next, I pushed and held down the end button again on my cell, turning it off. The next time I spoke to Jeff L. and company I wanted legal counsel sitting next to me. The change in attitude down at the station had alarmed me

Exactly one hour later Albert met me in the parking lot in front of the Seattle Public Safety Building. After we checked in with the desk sergeant, we found ourselves escorted to a small room with two very old metal chairs and a badly scarred ancient wooden desk. We were told to wait in the room for Jeff L. and whoever else “we” were.

Finally, Jeff L. came to find us and escorted us to a larger room where Sakol and Frank, the Captain of Detectives, were waiting for us. When we entered, Frank glanced at Albert, pointed at him, and asked me, “Who’s that?”

Albert answered his question as he handed him his card, “I am Albert Bradson, Mr. Preston’s attorney.”

Frank seemed to know who Albert was, and he looked very unhappy about my companion. His voice was a growl, “I know who you are,” Frank turned and looked at me, and asked, “What I want to know is who told you needed a lawyer? We just have a few questions to ask you.”

I paused, and then carefully worded my response. “It was the way Detective Davenport made his ... ah ... request on the phone for me to come and visit you folks that alarmed me. When he told me I was required to come down here immediately, and if I didn’t come here straight-away, the insinuation was a squad car would be dispatched posthaste to pick me up. Overall, that didn’t sound very good for me. To me, those words indicate you’ve discovered something you feel you can arrest me for, which sounds as if I need representation. Looking around the room, at three against one, it seems like it was a good idea I invited Mr. Bradson. Doesn’t it?” Frank shrugged his shoulders, “Whatever!” But he still looked pissed off about something. “I want some answers from you, and I want them now.” Frank had some papers lying on the table which he now picked up. His hand shook the papers a little, as he explained, “A few hours ago we heard back from the military, and it has turned into a rather ugly situation, a very ugly situation for us.