Chapter 24

Things were getting to be monotonous, same tune, just different day. I got to the police station a little early and exactly half an hour later, Albert pulled into the parking lot. We checked in with the same desk sergeant as last time and surprise, surprise, we found ourselves escorted to the same dumpy little room. This time when we were left, nobody told us to wait for the detectives. I figured they thought we knew the drill by now. When Jeff L. opened the door to get us, there was no greeting. We were led to a different room from last time. Sakol and Frank were waiting for us and when we entered, Frank glared at Albert and pointed at him, “What are you doing here again?” Frank turned to me and sneered, “Is this your buddy? Afraid to go anywhere without him?”

Albert answered his question, “Remember, I’m Mr. Preston’s attorney. He has the right to have me here.”

Frank’s voice growled, “I know all about you,”

Frank turned and scowled at me. His voice was a snarl as he asked, “Why do you always feel you need a lawyer? We just have a couple of questions.”

Frank’s mood was not appreciating. I snapped back, “Same reason as last time, the way Davenport demanded my presence here,” I stressed the next word, “Immediately! It alarmed me. Anyway, I thought we were done with this crap the other day. Not that I don’t like to see you guys, but you know, this is getting old.”

Frank lowered his voice a little, “That’s not why I wanted to see you today.” I feigned indifference, “Sorry, I thought that was the reason. So, what’s today’s reason?” I asked.

Frank stood there glaring at me, and then came to the point. “Just what were you doing out in the impound yard? You had no business being out there.”

I glanced at Bradson, and he nodded for me to answer. “I asked Jeff L. and Sakol if I could go and look at Slim’s car. Sakol gave me permission.” Frank glared at Sakol, and Sakol nodded, yes.

Frank snapped, “Our lab people went over the entire car, very carefully I might add. Why the hell do you think you know more than my lab people? As far as I’m concerned, you’ve no business here or there. Neither Davenport nor Sakol has done shit to convince me you aren’t interfering in things that are none of your business. I was all in favor of putting your fat old butt in jail the other day. Convince me I should let you walk out of here!” His dark face was getting darker, and I could tell from the tone of his voice he was growing even more upset with me.

I realized I needed to defuse the situation a little, and my voice took on a softer, less confrontational tone. “Look, I don’t want to end up in a pissing contest here, I just wanted to see the car. I came here to make amends with Sakol and Jeff L., but they weren’t around. I was bored and since the two of them had given me permission, I went out to look at the car. Actually, I didn’t expect to find a thing,” I couldn’t help it, but there was still a silent “but” at the end of my sentence.

“And did you?” Frank snapped.

“Well, kinda.”

“What does ‘kinda” mean?” Frank asked.

Again, I looked at Albert and he gave an affirmative nod. “I looked in the glove box and found the valet key. You know when you park in a parking lot, it’s for the attendant. It starts the car and...”

“I know what a fucking valet key does,” Frank shouted, “Get to the fucking point.”

I really had so many things I wanted to say, but I also realized being a smartass right now was not a wise idea. Quickly I continued, “When I turned the key, the cell phone powered up and made a noise, and I picked up the handset. I have the same model in one of my cars and I know the phone has a feature which shows both outgoing and incoming calls. I pushed the menu button and looked at the displayed numbers for both.” I sat there wondering if I should tell them about the call I made and who answered the phone, or if I should let them find out for themselves.

When Frank realized I wasn’t going to tell them anything more, he leaned forward, and hissed at me. “Preston, if you want to walk out of here today, you’d better tell me what you found and the number you reached.”

I didn’t even look over at Albert, I ain’t gonna cover for anyone. “Wheeler!”

Frank turned to Jeff and barked, “Who or what’s a Wheeler?”

Jeff jumped in, “David Wheeler. He owns the marina where Rockingham had his houseboat moored. We talked to him, and he said he barely knew Rockingham.”

I decided I might as well let the cat out of the bag, “Actually, Slim and Wheeler called each other six times the last day he was alive. All the calls either went to, or came from Wheeler’s private number. And he made the last call around 10 PM the night he was killed.”

And with that, the whole room exploded into angry shouts. Eventually Frank got the room under control and turned to me. “How the fuck do you know all of this?”