Authors: Mike Faricy
“Probably
, I’m sure I’m her alibi.”
“No
, Dev, the police want to talk to you, too. They said you were a person of interest.”
“Me?”
“Look, just meet me down there in that parking lot across the street. Do not go in until I get there. I’ll be leaving in a few minutes.”
“Okay, let me get cleaned up.”
“Don’t screw around here, Dev. I’ve got to represent Swindle and I don’t need you stopping somewhere for a couple of beers on the way over.”
“Louie…”
“Just get cleaned up and get down there.”
“Okay, okay.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
I needn’t have hurried.
I parked in the far corner of the parking lot and hoped no one spotted me. I sat in the Fleetwood waiting for close to forty-five minutes before Louie’s faded blue Geo Metro rumbled into the lot.
T
he lot was supposed to have been repaved a couple of years ago. But as a result of city-wide budget cuts it was pretty much just sand, gravel, and potholes, a whole lot of potholes. Louie seemed to find just about every one of them as he bounced and banged to the far corner where I was parked.
He looked reasonably good as he climbed out of the car.
Good at least for Louie. He wore a pin-striped suit coat, only moderately wrinkled, and pin-striped trousers. On closer examination, the pin-stripes on the trousers and coat didn’t quite match.
“Nice job, I’m guessing you got another suit like that at home.”
“What?”
“The stripes, they don’t match up. The ones on your coat are thicker than the ones on your trousers.”
“Whatever,” Louie shrugged. “Listen, they mentioned you as a person of interest. Please tell me you can account for your activities last night and you’ve got witnesses.”
“We’re in luck. I was with none other than Swindle from the court
house yesterday until about ten thirty this morning. And we were at that victory party for Gino D’Angelo that never happened last night. A lot of people saw us there. I left with Swindle and Heidi, so both of us are covered.”
“Swindle and Heidi?”
“They’d both been overserved, so I drove them home.”
“Mmm-mmm,” Louie nodded like it made sense. If Detective Manning was involve
d I knew things were going to be pushed a lot further than just a nod.
“What was up with Gino
? How did that deal shake out?” I asked.
“He’s out on bail and wearing an ankle bracelet
now, but it was close to one in the morning before we got him out. Tommy was ready to kill just about anyone and everyone.”
“Careful how you say that,” I cautioned.
Louie nodded.
“What was the charge? Attempted murder
of Dudley Rockett?”
“
Yeah, I think they were just yanking his chain, sounds like a business misunderstanding that went bad. Rockett filed some charge or something.”
“
Gee, join the club, sounds like Rockett’s filing charges against everyone,” I scoffed.
“Yeah
, well, you’re Swindle’s alibi and you got witnesses to corroborate, so all in all it’s turning out to be a pretty good day.”
“Maybe for
you, I’m never too excited to be called down here.”
“I think we got a pretty air-
tight defense, Dev. Just answer truthfully and we should be out of here in short order. Let’s get in there; the sooner we get started the sooner…”
“Just watch my back, Manning isn’t the biggest fan.”
We were ushered up to the fourth floor and left to sit in one of the interrogation rooms for close to an hour. I could feel Manning’s hand in all this, figured he was probably watching us through the mirror hoping to see me break down in some tearful confession to Louie. Even though I had nothing to hide I was still worried. I think one of Manning’s unfulfilled goals in life was to see me resting comfortably behind bars for a very long time.
At about the one hour mark the door bu
rst open and Manning bubbled in followed by a uniform and a plain clothes woman. The uniform remained against the door, the plain clothes took the seat next to Manning then sat there looking like a pissed off grade school principal.
“Gentlemen, sorry to keep you waiting. Busy, busy, busy,” Mannin
g chirped. He attacked the ever-present wad of gum viciously biting the thing like some sort of red faced mad dog. The top of his bald head glistened pink. His blue eyes shone like lasers that seemed directed at me.
“How are we doing?” he smiled and looked from me to Louie then back at me for a long stare.
I was determined not to say anything if I could help it. His cheery attitude did not bode well for my options. I gave him a polite nod then held his stare.
He
set his Maalox bottle on the corner of the table then opened a file and said, “Let the record show that...” and read off a series of form lines listing himself, Detective Clara Gutnacht, the uniformed officer, Louie, and me as present. Then he stated that we were there of our own free will, etc., etc. Of course, if I’d protested in any way it would have been a strike against me, so I sat there quietly and waited for the other shoe to drop.
I didn’t have to wait long.
“Mister Haskell, at this time you are not being charged and let the record state again that you and council are here of your own free will. There are a couple of items we think you might be able to help us clear up.”
I was focused on the previous day,
reviewing in my mind everything from when I arrived at the courthouse with Louie until this afternoon when I left Swindle drinking behind the bar at the Tutti Frutti Club. At no time was I ever out of sight of someone who could vouch for me. There wasn’t a five minute block of time when I could have made it to my car, let alone drive somewhere to harass Dudley Rockett then somehow drive back and not be missed. I was just thinking of how I could come up with the guest list from Gino’s disastrous victory party when Manning got my attention.
“Do you know a gentleman named Gary
Ruggles?” Manning asked.
I was so focused on Dudley Rockett I had to have the question repeated.
“Excuse me?”
“Gary
Ruggles, do you know him?”
It was ringing a
distant bell but my mind was still in the Dudley Rockett universe.
“No
, I don’t think I do, at least I don’t recall anyone by that name at this time.” I added that last bit just as a safety net. Who said you couldn’t learn something from watching sleazy congressmen on TV?
“Have you ever known or had dealings with a wom
an named Melissa Marie Ruggles?”
“No, not that I’m aware
of, to the best of my knowledge at this time.”
Manning’s eyes seemed to sparkle. Clara what’s-her-name blinked.
I was wondering what the hell? Then all of a sudden things started to sink in.
Manning grinned at me like he was reading my thoughts, which wasn’t very hard to do just now.
“Wait a minute, Detective. I know, or rather sort of knew a Bunny Ruggles. We had a brief acquaintance. If it’s the same person, I didn’t recognize her name when you said Melissa Marie. Not to get too far ahead of things here, but you were at my office a few days ago and wanted to examine my vehicle. I believe this was in relation to a hit and run accident I stated I knew nothing about. I believe you said Gary Ruggles was the victim.”
“And you still stand by your earlier s
tatement that you have no firsthand knowledge of the accident involving Mister Ruggles?”
“I do s
tand by my earlier statement. The only knowledge I have is a news report I heard on the radio and a brief newspaper article I read online just after you left my office the other day.”
Manning made a note in the open file in front of him. Clara sat next to him and didn’t blink.
“How brief was your acquaintance with Mrs. Ruggles?”
“Very brief.”
“Define very brief. Does that mean a year, a month, or did you just meet at a church function?” he asked then smiled.
A principle
tenet of law; Never ask a question you don’t already know the answer to. I thought I had better be truthful.
“We met for an evening.”
“An evening. Where?”
“A
concert, actually, then an establishment over in the Como area.”
“An establishment, do you mean a bar?”
“Yes.”
“And the name of this establishment?”
Here we go I thought. “The establishment is a bar called Charlie’s.”
“Hmm-mmm, interesting.”
“If you’re suggesting it’s interesting because that‘s the same place her husband was drinking the night he was killed in a hit and run, you’re correct. But the coincidence stops there. You examined my car, there was not then, nor is there now, any damage relating to a hit and run accident on my vehicle. And, as a matter of fact, if you’re interested I was with another individual on the night in question, a Miss Candi Slaughter. We were at my home until the following…”
“Have you driven any other vehicle in th
e past ten days, Mister Haskell?”
“No, no
, I have not.”
Suddenly there it was lo
oming up on the distant horizon; Swindle’s purple convertible. The Miata with the smashed front end and the scrapes along the passenger side. I wondered how much Manning knew.
“Mister Haskell, are you acquainted with a woman by the name of Swindle Lawless?”
He knew more than me.
“Yes
, I am, she is a nominal client of mine. Now that you mention it, I did drive her car yesterday. If you’ll recall, I was in the courthouse hall when you and a number of officers arrested Mister Gino D’Angelo. Miss Lawless left with me. We took her car and I drove. I parked her car in the parking lot of The Spot Bar. I took her to dinner and then to the Tutti Frutti Club.”
“And her vehicle is still at T
he Spot Bar?”
“As far as I know
. We couldn’t find her purse when it was time to go home last night. Miss Lawless didn’t seem to have a spare set of keys, and she appeared to possibly be a bit overserved.”
I
wasn’t sure but I thought I heard a door slam from behind the two way mirror. It really didn’t matter. I had more than enough on my plate just now.
“You took her out to d
inner, really? Where did the two of you dine?”
“Dine?”
“Yes where did you take her to dinner?”
“McDonald’s, I guess.”
“You guess?” Manning raised an eyebrow then shook his head. He seemed to be enjoying my discomfort.
“Mc
Donald’s,” I said.
“Define nominal client,” Manning said.
“Just that, a client of Mister Laufen’s here,” I nodded at Louie sitting next to me. “He asked me to look into a matter involving Miss Lawless and a former business agent.”
“And that agent would be?”
“A gentleman named Dudley Rockett.”
“Hmm-mmm,
that seems to ring a bell,” Manning said then slowly, deliberately pawed through a series of forms in the file. I think he was softly humming to himself.
“Ah yes
, here it is, Dudley Rockett. Is that the same Dudley Rockett that filed this restraining order against you?” he asked and held up a copy of the restraining order against me and pointed to a signature that read Dudley Rockett.
“Possibly, I mean it’s sort of a common name.”
“And most likely not the only restraining order filed against you. If I recall, weren’t you incarcerated for an evening recently? Was it something to do with your harassment of Mister Rockett? Do I recall a resisting-arrest charge somewhere in there, too?”
“Come on
, Manning, cut the bullshit. You jacked up the paperwork so I had to spend the night here under your loving care. We discussed it in this very room the next day. I should have filed charges against you guys and the city. I pay taxes just like…”
“May I speak with my clien
t privately for a moment,” Louie interrupted then stepped on my foot under the table.
“Yeah, sure. I’m goi
ng to get a cup of coffee, either of you care for one?” Manning asked.
“No thanks,” I
said. Louie just shook his head and waited until the door closed behind them so we were alone in the room.
Then he
looked at me and asked, “What the fuck are you doing, Dev?”
“I’m doing what you told me, I’m telling him the truth.”
“No you’re not, you’re giving him a lecture, you idiot. You were screwing that Ruggles guy’s wife? Shit. And I gotta tell you, that line about driving Swindle’s car just yesterday sounds pretty damn bogus. If you want me to help you, Dev, you have got to work with me, not against me.”