Chapter 6

Scott went out to his Cad and called the police to report our gruesome discovery, and for his trouble, they demanded we not leave the scene. Perhaps it was best he made the call because I would have retorted with a smart assed comment when the operator told us not to leave.

It’s interesting how quickly the police will respond when you use the “M” word. I guess when you tell them you’ve found a body you believe might be a murder victim, it really seems to stir their curiosity, or some other cop instinct. They go straight to high gear and there’s an immediate rush on their part to come and check it out. Why there is such a rush I’ll never know. I could assure them Slim was not leaving soon.

While Scott was making the call, I walked BJ out to the truck and as I passed the houseboat where the old man lived, he was glaring at me from one of his windows. I stood by my truck and petted BJ for a moment and then rolled the windows down a bit before I put her inside. After Scott summoned the police to investigate Slim’s demise, the two of us returned to the houseboat. We moved quickly back to the boat so we could make sure we stopped anyone who might accidentally enter the scene.

Even though I am a WASP, (white Anglo Saxton Protestant) I also qualify a part of a minority group. Somewhere I read that fewer than thirty-five percent of all the people who live in the Puget Sound area were actually born here. I can say I’m part of that number. I was born, raised, and other than the time I spent in the military, I’ve lived my entire life in this magnificent area.

One of the two detectives responding to Scott’s cell phone call was an old childhood friend, Jeff L. Davenport. I have no idea what the L stood for or even why the L was so important, but he had always used it in his name. Every paper he ever submitted in school was signed Jeff L. Davenport. He took a lot of kidding during junior and senior high school, but he had always stuck with the “L”. Jeff L and I grew up in the same neighborhood, and we’d experienced much of our lives together in the same neighborhood, and we’d also experienced much of our school lives together.

Jeff L. still looks exactly like what he was as a youth, a high school/college football star. He keeps in shape, and his body looks toned. He cuts his hair as short as a military person would even though he was never in the service. He has a ruggedly handsome face, with a cleft chin. For a long time, when we were kids, I called him Dudley Do-Right of the Mounties. He didn’t appreciate my wit.

Jeff’s partner is called Sakol. I say called, because I have no idea if that’s his first name or last name. Everyone I know has always called him Sakol. Jeff once told me that Sakol was of Thai extraction. I’m ashamed to admit that even though living most of my life in Seattle, which is such a cosmopolitan area, in addition to seeing Asians every day, most of them look somewhat alike to me. I know in today’s world, that’s not a politically correct thing to say, and I’m going to hell for saying it. However, I’m willing to bet that if Asians were honest about it, we all probably look alike to them.

Sakol is not really heavy, but he does have a small tummy. One time I playfully hit his arm, and it felt like I had hit a steel rod. His five-foot nine-inch body structure has a lot more tone than it would appear. I’ve always really liked Sakol.

Both Jeff L. and Sakol are excellent cops. I have watched the two of them do the good cop/bad cop routine with amazing results. Jeff L. usually plays the heavy, (one look at his size and you understand why) while Sakol keeps telling Jeff L. to lighten up. Sakol then goes on to question the people in his quiet and direct way and people seem to just open up.

The other thing about Sakol is his English is totally fractured. I’ve always suspected he watched too many Charlie Chan movies as a child. Because of his broken English, when Sakol asks a question, you can see by the expression on the face of those being interrogated they are thinking this dumb cop doesn’t have a clue. This is just a stupid cop, or somehow, he is mentally slow. I’ve even heard people say behind his back he should work to develop better English skills. I totally disagree! Sakol will ask you a question in his broken English, and as you answer, he just smiles and nods his head.

Sakol has a round moon face with small crinkly eyes. If you were to describe it, you’d say that he has a happy face. After a short chat with Sakol, you just felt better; he makes people happy. When Sakol asks you a question, he just nods and blinks as he stares at you with this little smile on his face. After you give him your answer, sometimes he will repeat your answer but with a slight mistake in it. The suspect will quickly correct him and then Sakol waits a long time before he asks his next question. Some people feel the need to fill this silence, and they’ll start talking again, just babbling away – usually saying things they really had not planned on divulging.

Because of his broken English, many people have viewed him as being not very bright. Too few people see him as the wise old owl he actually is. He just continues to ask what people consider the most stupid questions possible. Several times he will repeat the same question as if he doesn’t understand what you’ve been telling him. However, behind that goofy smile, those blinking eyes, and the fractured English, lies a mind that remembers every word you’ve said. Eventually, the suspect begins to relax in front of what they perceive as repetitive questions from a stupid bumbling cop; a cop who probably got his job through affirmative action.

When the suspect is completely comfortable, Sakol will quietly ask, “Ah, excuse please, thought you say?” And then the suspect looks at his nodding, smiling, blinking face, and starts to wonder what exactly their answers had been. Had they told him too much? And then they begin to wonder if they had perhaps sold him a bit short in the smarts department. The suspect now desperately tries to remember all the half-truths and lies they thought this inept person could never understand. His spoken English never seems to get any better. But they soon begin to realize his understanding of English is a lot more than they ever imagined.

Jeff L. is also aware of our infamous poker games and has informed me on several occasions Sakol would love to sit in with us. Fat chance! I can just see him sitting there smiling and blinking, asking, “Please, sorry, again how game played?” In the meantime, he sits there stacking all our chips in front of his happy, beaming face, and winning all the big hands. Talk about your poker face, this guy has the best.

Jeff L. had lived a few doors down from me when we were kids. Away from school we were good friends and played together often. During high school, we never ran in the same clique, since he was a super jock, and I was band. During out school years, since Jeff had the looks and the reputation, he also fared quite well with the female population, Occasionally, he ‘d take pity on me and would send me a few of his discards. After graduation we went off to different colleges. Although over the years we’d drifted apart, seeing the two of us today, you’d think we were still the best of friends. I guess when tow minorities meet, they have to bond together.

As soon as our greetings were out of the way, Jeff L. and Sakol took me aside, and asked me what I knew about Slim’s death. They also wanted to know why Scott and I were the ones who made the discovery. I proceeded to explain to both where I fit into the picture. I also made sure they were aware I had somewhat of a beef with Slim. But even though that was a fact, it didn’t make me upset enough to do something like murder him.

I was not too surprised Jeff L. took me aside right away and talked to me first. Once before, Jeff, Sakol, and I had spent some time together on another police investigation. I’d been dating a lovely woman for a few months. When I realized she was looking for a lot more out of the relationship than I was, I called it off, and we stopped seeing each other. A few days after the breakup they found her raped and brutally murdered. Her neighbors, who had described me to the police, also mentioned I’d been her latest flame. Jeff L. and Sakol were the ones sent out to interview me. That was the first time Jeff, and I had seen each other in several years. During my questioning, I had my first opportunity to see Sakol pull his dumb routine. Lucky for me, I was both innocent and I had an airtight alibi, and in addition all the tests they took proved I was telling the truth.