Ting-A-Ling by Mike Faricy Page B

pinstriped coat had substantially thinner stripes than the stripes on his trousers. Somehow, he’d managed to mix up two different pinstriped suits. I figured that was the least of my problems as we entered the lobby and approached the Desk Sergeant.
     
    Chapter Twenty-Six
     
    We weren’t incarcerated in the standard cinder block interview room with uncomfortable plastic chairs, whips, chains and torture devices hanging from the wall. Manning had us seated in a sort of conference room with padded carpet, a long polished wooden table, comfortable upholstered chairs and halfway decent coffee.
    Aaron LaZelle had poked his head in as we were getting seated. We’d exchanged one liners, he thanked us for coming down and then he fled the scene as fast as was prudently possible.
    Up until now, Manning hadn’t said a lot except to explain that we were being taped and filmed. He introduced the dour faced blonde woman seated next to him as, “One of our department consultants, Ms. Sinn.”
    “That’s S-I-N-N,” she interjected with a slight growl and without the trace of a smile.
    “Pleased to meet you,” Louie said. He extended his wrinkled coat arm with a drop or two of strawberry shake.
    “Nice to meet you.” I nodded from across the table.
    “So, let’s get started, shall we?” Manning said. He looked about as comfortable with Ms. Sinn as I felt. He listed off the usual time and place information, the names of everyone in the room. He stated that we had come of our own free will and that I was not facing any charges, and on and on. Then he asked, “Does everything I’ve said so far meet with your approval?”
    I nodded.
    Louie said, “Yes, it does.”
    “I’m sorry, Mr. Haskell you gave a nod, would you mind stating for the record that you’re in agreement thus far?”
    “Yes, I agree to the time, the date and the names of everyone in this room.” I half laughed.
    Louie’s hand gave me a warning shot beneath the table.
    “Very well. If you would care to proceed with your statement, please.”
    I looked over at Louie and he nodded, giving me the go ahead.
    “I was hired by a client to locate Mr. Renee Paris. Up until I spoke with my client I was only vaguely aware of Mr. Paris from local news reports. I had never met the man. To the best of my knowledge, I have never been involved in any business or social dealings with Renee Paris. I have never, to the best of my knowledge, been involved in a transaction of any sort with Renee Paris nor any organization he has been or is associated with.”
    I went on to describe how I searched the internet for information. How I reviewed his county tax records online. I stated that the real estate tax information is a matter of public record. Then I explained how I phoned him and set up an appointment to meet him. I stressed that Renee Paris suggested we meet at the Casey’s location. I met with him, left and did not learn about the fire until forty-eight hours after the event when I read about it in the newspaper. Once I read the newspaper article I phoned Detective Manning so I could make a statement. I finished and glanced over at Louie who gave me a brief nod.
    “What did you hope to accomplish by meeting Mr. Paris?” Manning asked.
    “Exactly what I did accomplish. I merely reminded him that my client had provided him with a loan and that my client wished to be paid back. I suggested to Mr. Paris that he might contact my client and work out some sort of payment arrangement.”
    “And your client is?”
    Louie tapped me on the thigh and said, “I think we’ll assert out right to client confidentiality at this point. Perhaps, if we can receive prior approval, we would be more than willing to pass that name on to you, Detective.”
    The humorless Sinn woman scribbled a note and slid it over to Manning, then stared at Louie’s stained suit coat without blinking. I was beginning to think she might be more dangerous than Manning.
    “Could you describe your