Mike Faricy - Bombshell

“Look, I said the things you have there in your file. But it’s a huge jump to go from that,” I nodded at his file, “to fire bombing a hotel room. Don’t you think?”

“No, not really Mister Haskell, not really.”

“I didn’t do this,” I said.

“And you commented to Mister James McNaughton that you noticed there was no security present at the hotel room, is that correct?”

“Yes, yeah I said that. But, only because Jimmy had told me they were going to hire hotel staff to remain round the clock outside that hotel room. When I saw no one was posted outside the room I questioned it. I didn’t think that was a good idea.”

“Questioned it in order to see just how that might work for your benefit?”

“No, I questioned it because he had told me differently, that’s all. I felt they should have security posted outside the room.”

“Did you view that as a lost business opportunity, Mister Haskell?”

“Lost business opportunity?”

“That’s what I said. Guarding the room, wasn’t that a lost opportunity for you. Work you apparently missed out on.”

“No, no, I didn’t think anything like that.”

“You weren’t upset they hadn’t hired you to provide security at the hotel?”

“No, I just told you, I wondered why they had removed their security. Jimmy said it was because of budgetary cutbacks.”

“Yeah, their budget sort of went to hell after you assaulted Miss Bard, didn’t it?”

“Sharp observation, except I didn’t assault her. But, their budget was getting pretty tight, I gathered, so anyway it was an expense they apparently decided to do without.”

“Yeah, apparently, too bad, isn’t it?”

I was prepared tospend the night in a cell. But, somehow Louie convinced them I wasn’t a flight risk and besides, Manning didn’t charge me. It was after seven when we got out of the interview room. We were standing outside on Kellogg Boulevard, which, even after rush hour traffic was still backed up, deja vu all over again.

“Let me drop you off at home,” Louie said.

“Thanks, I could use a shower and I’d just like to forget the day.”

“Yeah, you aren’t kidding.”

“Hey, you’re getting paid to be in there, how tough can it be?” I asked.

“No, I meant you could use a shower.”

Louie gave me a lift home in his rust accented blue Nissan Sentra. In case I thought the holding cell and the interview room had been bad, Louie’s car put all that to shame. I had my window down in an attempt to get some air moving over the trash and debris fluttering around the inside of his car.

“No offense, Louie, but your car could use a shoveling out and then a pretty aggressive decontamination.”

“Hunh?”

“You kidding? You’ve got Big Mac wrappers back there with Christmas wreaths printed on them and its summer. I’m sure I wouldn’t have to search very hard to find a couple of empty bottles under the seat. I see at least three Domino’s boxes, I didn’t know they even delivered to cars. All the unopened mail back there, this one’s from the power company.”

I pulled a brown envelope edged in red from a random pile. Red block letters above the address window read ‘Open Immediately’.

“What’s that?” Louie asked.

“I’ve gotten these myself from time to time, it’s a shut off notice form Xcel Energy.”

“Not to worry, I paid that one months ago,” he said.

“Great, but that doesn’t make your car less of a rolling dumpster. God forbid you ever have the opportunity to chauffer around someone worthwhile…”

“You mean as opposed to you?”

“Exactly,” I said.

We were heading up Kellogg, turning left at the History Center at the top of the hill, then right at the Cathedral continuing West down Selby with the sun in our eyes. I’d be home in three blocks. After my day being interrogated and now Louie’s car I was debating if I should toss my clothes in the trash or just burn them as hazardous waste.

“Oh, oh,” Louie said pulling up in front of my place. He ground a good quarter inch off the side of his tires rolling against the curb before he came to a stop.

Crime scene tape crisscrossed the front door, yellow tape, maybe four inches wide with large black letters, all capitols, CRIME SCENE DO NOT CROSS. There was a red notice taped to the inside of the glass on my front door. I could read the heading from the street, No AdmittanceBy order of the Saint Paul Police Department“Are you kidding me?” I said.

“Doesn’t look like anyone’s kidding.”

“That God damn Manning, he knew about this,” I said. “This is his idea of a joke.”

“I’d say he’s got a pretty lousy sense of humor. What’d you ever do to him?”

“I’ve no idea, believe me.”

Crime scene tape crisscrossed my double garage and there were two more red notices taped to the garage door just in case I missed one.

Fortunately, I’d been deliberately over-served the night before and rather than thread a path up my driveway I’d parked at the curb across the street.

“You need a place to land, tonight?” Louie asked, “I got a recliner,” he said, still staring at the yellow tape fluttering against my front door.

“Thanks, but I’ll be okay.” I’d spent a night or two in Louie’s recliner, before I ever did that again I’d stake out a park bench.

“You sure?”

“Positive.”

“I’ll call you tomorrow, see what we can do to get this place opened up for you,” Louie said.

“Yeah, you bet,” I didn’t sound all that sure.

“Come on, it won’t be that bad, we’ll get it worked out. Sure you don’t need a place to land tonight?”

I nodded, then groaned as I crawled out of Louie’s passenger door. I stuck my head back in the window.

“Thanks for the help, today, Louie. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

“Take care man,” Louie said, then accelerated down the street, a bluish cloud of exhaust roiled up around me and drifted down the street in the wake of his Sentra as he drove off into the setting sun.

I decided there was no point wasting time calling Justine. So I phoned Carol hoping that French guy had dumped her by now and I could scam a place with benefits to stay for the night. She answered almost immediately; “Oui,” she said, sounding just a little too cheery.

“Hi Carol, Dev Haskell.”

“Oh,” she suddenly sounded decidedly colder and followed up with a long pause. I blinked first.

“Just checking in, wondered if you were doing anything tonight.”

“I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t call me again,” she said, then hung up.

I tried Kristi, but my cell displayed a ‘number blocked’ message.

Naomi’s number had been changed with no further information available.

I left a message for Patti, but she was probably still pissed off about the little cigar burn I left on her great-grandmother’s heirloom dining room table. I didn’t hold out much hope.

I reluctantly phoned Heidi Bauer. I didn’t want to, but I was pretty much out of options.

“Hello,” she sounded happy.

“Hi Heidi, Dev.”

“Yeah,” she said, suddenly cautious.

“Hey, I realize it’s pretty short notice, but I was just checking to see what you’re up to tonight.”

“What I’m up to? Really? You mean you don’t want something, bail money, a ride somewhere?”

“Man, when did you become so cynical?”

“Oh I don’t know, maybe after getting you out of a half dozen different jams, posting bail, retrieving various cars from the impound lot, hiding you from the authorities, sooner or later even I start to catch on,” she said.