Here is the first part of another story I submitted for the writing contest and another entry that was not chosen. It's called The Cell Phone. The picture of the cat has absolutely nothing to do with the story.
The Cell Phone
Detective Fox entered the small
interrogation room. The smell of bad coffee and sweat filled the room, a room
built to reveal secrets. In his hand he carried the file on Hector Soudeer, the
same folder he was given only an hour before and the one he’d read while
downing his McDonalds breakfast only minutes earlier. It was going to be a long
morning, the detective thought.
“Hector, I’m Detective Fox,” the
career policeman said. The detective’s first impression of the man being
questioned for auto theft was, short, but as Hector extended a tattooed hand
attached to a tattooed arm, Fox noticed immediately the bulging muscles
underneath his colorful shirt. Short, but works out, Fox thought. Fox also
noticed the absence of any gang tattoos…at least he didn’t have that to worry
about.
“I guess you know why you’re here,”
Fox said as he sat in a chair opposite Soudeer.
“Mr. Fox, this is all a
misunderstanding. If you would only give me back my cell phone, in 10 minutes
all this,” Soudeer stretched his painted arms. “All this will go away.”
“Later,” Fox said curtly. A
misunderstanding…how many times had Fox heard that excuse to explain everything
from infidelity to murder? “First, let’s just start at the beginning. Tell me
about Mrs. Lamia.”
“What do you want to know?” Fox
took off his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose. He felt a headache
coming on.
“Well, for starters, when did you
first come in contact with Mrs. Lamia?”
“The first time I ever spoke with
her was last week, Tuesday. Out of the blue I get a call at home, like at 9
o’clock. I see it’s an international call from Mexico. I don’t know who it is,
but I have family in Mexico so I pick up. I’m curious, you know...”
“And the call was from Mrs. Lamia?”
“Yeah, that’s right. She tells me her name, but I
don’t know her. I ask how’d she get my number and why’s she calling me?”
“And what did she say?”
“She said I ask too many questions.
I’m about to hang up when she says she’s got a job for me and it will be worth
my while if I take it. Now, at my car lot, a job can mean a lot of things…pick
up a car, drive it to California…stuff like that. But I don’t know what she
means. So I ask her…what kind of job?”
“Did she tell you?”
“Yeah—kind of. She starts in on
this story that she’s in Mexico and her husband’s gone missing in Tijuana. I
know Tijuana—missing’s not a good thing in that town. She says she went down
there to find him and now she can’t come back to the States…some problem with
customs or something. She says she needs someone to go to her husband’s
warehouse and get something for her. She says she needs her cell phone.”
“That’s all—just a cell phone?”
“I swear—that’s all. So now I’m
wondering what’s really going on with this lady. I say I’m not going to help
her unless she tells me how she got my cell number—I don’t give it out to too
many people—and why is she calling me.
She says I did some work on one of her husband’s cars…a ’71 Camaro, a few years
ago…says her husband’s name is Antonio. Then it clicks—I did work on that car…sweet
car, that Camaro. I ask her why one of her friends can’t do it for her—get her
phone, I mean. She says she doesn’t know anybody in Salt Lake, cuz she splits
time between Phoenix and Mazatlan. She found the invoice for the work I did on
her husband’s car and she called me. She said my cell number was on the
invoice. I do that sometimes.”
Soudeer looked around the small
room. “Can I get some water?”
“Later,” Fox said wondering where
all this was going. Soudeer looks annoyed but he begins again.
“So since she’s told me how she
reached me, I ask her what’s she mean by worth my time. That can mean different things depending on who’s
deciding.” Soudeer gave Fox a sly smile to which Fox only nodded.
“She tells me her husband borrowed
her phone on his last trip to Utah, but he left it in the warehouse. She needs
it and all I have to do is go to the warehouse, get the phone, and send it to
her. That’s it. I ask her what’s in it for me? And she says, ‘look, my
husband’s missing and is now God knows where. I need that phone and if you do
this for me, you can have anything in that warehouse—just get me my phone.’ I
say, ‘lady, if your husband’s warehouse is anything like my warehouse, all I
got in there is parts to cars they don’t make no more and crap I can’t fit in
my garage.’ Then she says, ‘Mr. Soudeer, my husband collects cars…exotic cars.
That Camaro is one of his least-valuable acquisitions. The warehouse is full of
his cars.’”
Fox straightened up in his chair.
The department assumed Soudeer broke in and stole a car but giving him a car
for just sending back a cell phone was new.
“Hector, you’re saying Mrs. Lamia
said you could have anything in the warehouse for just getting her phone to
her?”
“Damn straight! Look, I’m not dumb.
I wouldn’t just break into a place when I’m pretty sure they have cameras and
stuff all over.”
“So what’d you tell her?”
“I told her, yeah…I’d do it, but I
didn’t have a way in. She says no problem—it’s got a keypad lock. Once I’m
there I call her and she’ll give the combination and I’m in. So I drive to the
warehouse…it’s on 70th West just off 21st…” Fox nods—he
was there just last night. “When I get there I call the number she gave me and
she gives me the combination. Just like that I’m in.”
Fox watched Saudeer’s eyes light up
and knew exactly why. He had been in that same building and saw what Soudeer
saw.
“I couldn’t believe what I saw. I thought I’d find
some old Chevys, maybe a half-built Porsche... The guy had a few Austins, a
Bentley, a Rolls—no, two Rolls Royces. There must have been 20 cars in that
warehouse. I was like a kid in a candy store.”
“Then what happened?”
“So I call Mrs. Lamia back and she
says again that all of these cars mean nothing to her. She says if her husband
is really dead, she’s going to donate them all to charity anyway. I’m thinking
if he’s missing in Tijuana, he most likely is dead so I look at the cars again. I see the one I want, if this is
really on the level—I’m taking the Benz. She’s still on the phone and she asks
me if I’ve found the cell. I tell her no because I was looking at the cars. She
tells me to find it, so I go into the little office and there’s the phone just
sitting on the desk. I tell her I got it and now I ask just how do I get paid.”
As Fox listens, many of his
questions are being answered. Fox knew Soudeer accessed the warehouse with no
forced entry. He knew also that one car—the Mercedes-Benz CLS 63 AMG was
missing, the same car found last night in Soudeer’s garage.
“And what did she say?”
“She said in the office safe are
the keys every car there. She says she’ll just give me the combination to the
safe. But I start thinking…if these are her husband’s cars and he’s got the
titles, she can’t just give me one. So I ask her about this and she says all
the cars are in her name. Her husband’s a Mexican national and she’s an
American citizen so every car he collected he put in her name to avoid any
problems. I still can’t believe what’s happening. She says to just tell her
which car I want and she’ll get me the title. All she wants is the phone.”
“You open the safe?”
“You bet I did. She gives me the
combination and I open it…” This answered yet another question for the
detective. The safe was actually left open by someone who knew or had access to
the combination. “And there they were, all the keys. I find the ones to the
Benz and I’m about to leave when I remember the cell phone.” Soudeer laughed at
his own memory lapse.
“I call her and tell her I got the
phone. She gives me the code to open the garage door, and I drive my new
Mercedes-Benz out of the warehouse.”
“Then what happened?
“I leave my Chrysler there and take the new car straight home—I’m not taking any chances with this car—don’t want to get pulled over or anything. I mean, what would you think if you stopped me driving a $80,000 car and all I got is this story?”
“I leave my Chrysler there and take the new car straight home—I’m not taking any chances with this car—don’t want to get pulled over or anything. I mean, what would you think if you stopped me driving a $80,000 car and all I got is this story?”
“Good point,” Fox said returning
Soudeer’s smile.
To Be Continued...
But what a cute pic!
ReplyDeleteAgain. So happy to see you putting your stories here. I really do love them.