Chapter Five
Michael East was, at that very moment, in a meeting with Detective Sal Foster, at the PII offices where Trent Preston was found dead. Detective Foster, or Sal, as she insisted on being called, had been assigned to the case, and was collecting some more evidence from the ‘scene of the crime’.
The office itself, where Mr. Preston had been murdered, had been cordoned off and that entire floor closed, but business was still in operation in the rest of the building, and Michael was working late as usual, taking on full responsibility for pretty much everything since the murder.
“You still got the press outside your house, sweetie?” Sal asked. She had this habit of calling him sweetie. It was a little disconcerting, considering she was an attractive female detective and probably about twenty years younger than him, but he didn’t mind too much. She probably talked like that to everyone.
“Yeah, but it’s died down a little.” He shrugged, watching her pick out a single hair from the pool of blood on the floor of Trent’s office. She held it up in the air to look at, then carefully put it into a bag she’d pre-prepared. “How did forensics miss that?” He asked, gasping a little. They’d gone over this whole area days ago when the body had first been found.
“You’d be surprised how much they do miss,” grumbled Sal, standing up and closing the bag. “I’ll get this tested.”
Michael nodded and sat down on the couch, crossing one leg over the other. He was relieved to get a bit of a break and show Sal around. “How come you didn’t suspect me from the beginning?” Like all the press and some of his co-workers apparently did.
“Because I’m a detective,” she replied with a slight smug expression, sitting down next to him. “I can tell when someone’s lying and I can usually get a good idea about who’s the guilty party straight away.”
“What else did you want to speak to me about?” he asked, picking at the sleeve of his suit jacket a little. Even though Sal was nice, and friendly, getting interviewed with the cops still made him slightly nervous. He was scared he might say something that would implicate him in some way and cause them to start suspecting him, even though he was completely innocent. It was probably an irrational fear, but still. “I’ve given my full statement already.”
“I know, sweetie, I remember. But I do have a few questions about your boss in general.”
“Alright, ask away. Anything I can do to help catch this guy, y’know?” He shrugged.
“That’s the spirit,” Sal smiled and shuffled a bit closer to him, taking out her notepad and pen. “Now…Trent Preston was murdered, so it goes without saying that he must have had some enemies, people who either hated him or just wanted him dead, or people who would directly benefit from wiping him out.”
Michael grimaced slightly at Sal’s straight down the line talk. He was still getting over the death of his friend and business partner. This entire week had been hard, and completely crazy.
“Can you think of anyone who might match that description?” She continued. “Who were his enemies?”
“Well that’s just the thing, he didn’t have any,” replied Michael with a small frown. “Trent was a nice guy. Sure, he was a businessman, but he wasn’t ruthless and he didn’t stab people in the back or anything like that. He was determined, but fair. He had rivals, but that was all they were…business rivals. And I doubt any of them would go so far as to want him dead.”
“Well someone clearly did, Michael, sweetie,” said Sal. “Was he ever involved in the Mafia, gangs, any of that stuff?”
“Oh no…” Michael chuckled at the thought of it and shook his head. “Never…never.”
“Has he ever been broken into, or had anything stolen from him?”
Michael frowned and sat in silence for a moment as he considered it, then after a short pause, he answered, “Yes actually, about ten or twelve years ago there was a break in at the family home, and after that he spent a lot of money increasing security and setting up loads of alarm systems and cameras and such, and we never had a problem after that.”
“Hmm…” Sal shook her head. “I think we can rule that one out then. Has he ever been instrumental in bringing injustice or corruption in the business world to light? I know there’s a lot of it goes on and he must have seen some of it at some point. How many people has he fired over the years?”
“A good number, I suppose. He’s let them go for various reasons. I couldn’t say exactly how many but…I can get you the figures.”
“And the names?”
“Yes, yes,” Michael nodded. “They’ll all be on record.”
“That would be very helpful. If you could get that for me by say…this time tomorrow?”
“That wouldn’t be a problem.”
“Great. Thanks sweetie.” Sal smiled and scribbled a few more things down, then closed her notebook and stood up. “I’d better get going. Sorry to call so late but I just wanted a quick chat with you and I was passing the building so…thought I might as well get it done.”
“Certainly. No problem,” Michael smiled and stood up too, to show her out. “It was worth it just to find that hair.”
“Indeed.”
“Do you think there’s anything else the forensics team missed?” he asked.
“I don’t think so. I did a thorough look just then and I couldn’t see anything.” She held up her little pocket magnifier. “They’re pretty good with these things.”
“They seem it. Maybe I should get one.”
“Fancy yourself as a bit of a detective, do you?” She smiled.
“Well, I’d like to help out on the investigation as much as I can.”
“You’re certainly doing that.” The pair of them started to walk out as Michael led her to the elevator and down to the ground floor. “The best way you can help out is by getting those names for me, and having a good think…about anyone else who might have held a grudge against Mr. Preston for some reason, anyone else who might have considered themselves an enemy of his.”
“I will do,” Michael replied enthusiastically, offering out his hand and giving hers a shake as he bid her goodbye. “See you tomorrow!”
“See you tomorrow,” she nodded curtly and disappeared into the night.
Michael turned and headed straight back upstairs, into the ‘murder room’. His imagination had been fueled by her visit, and he was now more determined than ever to help catch the killer. He gritted his teeth and fought against his desire to puke as he slowly got down onto his knees by the pool of blood and began to examine it in more detail, looking for anything the cops may have missed. He knew he wasn’t supposed to be in there without a cop present but hell, it was his goddamn building; he owned the place now and surely he could go where he pleased.
But as Sal had already said, there wasn’t anything else. Either that or he was just incapable of seeing it. He slowly got back to his feet, feeling slightly stiff. He was getting a bit too old to be scrambling down on his hands and knees. Maybe he should get one of those magnifier things. Maybe he should leave the investigating to the cops and just help out where he could. He could at least do some online rooting around.
He headed back to his own office and sat down at his computer. Even though it was late now and hardly anyone was still in the building, Michael didn’t feel like going home, and he didn’t feel like sleeping. He wanted to get this done, now, so he could rest easy that night knowing he had done something to help get justice for his friend.
He searched through the business records and found the list of fired employees over the years, which included a small note or statement on the reason they were fired. He printed them all out and put them in a little folder ready to give over to Sal the following evening, then remained in his chair and sat and read through them. Some of the previous employees he remembered very well; others less so. He couldn’t imagine any of them becoming so angry over losing their job that they came and did that to Trent though, especially since the last person fired was over a year ago. Surely they would have done it a bit sooner if they were so angry? Besides, PII had always been a happy company. Trent had prided himself on running a ‘happy ship’ as he liked to call it, and Michael was determined to do the same.
As for rivals, there was really only one insurance company worth its weight that could ever even come close to PII, and that was Frank Morgan Industries.
Michael had met Frank a few times and he’d always seemed like a nice enough guy. Certainly, there was a rivalry between them, but it was a friendly rivalry as far as he could tell, and there was nothing wrong with a bit of friendly rivalry in business. Both companies had been doing really well lately anyway.
Still, Sal had asked him to think of rivals or enemies, and Frank was the only one who sprang to mind.
He picked up his phone and painstakingly sent a text to Sal. He’d never been very good at phones, although his typing on a computer was pretty shit-hot.
Got that list of fired employees for you. Don’t think it’s any of them though. Last time anyone was fired was over a year ago. Only rival or ‘enemy’ I can think of is Frank Morgan, owner of Frank Morgan Industries. They’re a rival insurance company and there’s always been a lot of competition between us. Thanks and see you tomorrow!
***
Sal had gone straight to the lab to run a little test when she left PII, and was there waiting for the results when she got Michael’s message. She read it and frowned slightly, mulling things over to herself.
Then the lab technician came out.
“It’s a match.”
This wasn’t good. This wasn’t good at all.