Attorney-Client Privilege by Young Pamela Samuels

Author:Young, Pamela Samuels [Young, Pamela Samuels]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Goldman House Publishing
Published: 2012-06-14T06:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 46

“I don’t believe this prick,” Mankowski said, both amazed and annoyed at what he was seeing. “Is he stupid or what?”

Mankowski and Thomas sat in an unmarked sedan, peering across Beverly Boulevard as Phillip strolled around the lot at Mercedes Benz of Beverly Hills.

“We’ve been on his ass like white on rice.” Mankowski gripped the steering wheel. “He has to be stupid to go out and buy a hundred thousand dollar Benz. He’s messing with us. He’s saying, I killed Judi, but you can’t touch me.”

“That insurance money is still tied up. Where’s he getting the dough?” Thomas asked.

“Maybe he’s got a sugar mama. Let’s get out and mess with him.”

“We have plenty of time to razz him,” Thomas objected. “Maybe he’s dealing with his grief by window-shopping.”

“Grief, my ass.”

They remained parked for close to forty minutes, watching as Phillip examined nearly every car in the showroom. He ultimately test drove the SL-class coupe.

“That car costs a hundred grand easy,” Mankowski said.

“I’d say more like a buck fifty,” Thomas corrected.

Thirty minutes later, Phillip drove an apple red Mercedes-Benz convertible off the lot.

The detectives exited the car and jogged across the street. They pretended to be checking out a black SUV and waited for a salesman to approach them. Ten minutes later, no one had.

Mankowski began to tap his foot in frustration. “They’re ignoring us. Don’t I look more like a rich guy than that prick Phillip Peterman?”

Thomas grinned. “Maybe it’s your cheap suit.”

Mankowski tugged at his collar. “This is the most expensive suit in my wardrobe. Got it on sale at the Men’s Warehouse for half off.”

A salesman finally walked over to them, but not the one who’d been working with Phillip.

“How can I help you gentlemen?”

“What’s your best offer on this SUV?” Mankowski asked, patting the hood.

“Fully loaded, eighty-five grand. But I could probably get you in a stripped-down version for a lot less.”

“Do I look like I need a stripped-down version?” Mankowski said, indignantly. “What makes you think I can’t afford the fully-loaded model?”

The salesman raised his hands in surrender. “No offense intended. Why don’t I go get the keys so you can take it for a test drive?”

Mankowski saw the salesman who’d helped Phillip approaching. “Forget it. I’d rather deal with that guy.”

“We’re interested in this SUV,” Mankowski said, walking up to the other salesman. “Your colleague here was rather rude to us, so we’re giving you our business. Why don’t we talk in your office?”

The guy gave his co-worker an apologetic shrug and happily escorted the two detectives to his office. Once the door was closed, Mankowski flashed his badge. The man’s vision of a commission on the sale of a second Benz disappeared with his smile.

“You just sold a red convertible to a man by the name of Phillip Peterman. We’d like to know how he paid for it?”

“Our customer’s financial information is confidential. I can’t—”

“So you telling me you want us to come back with a search warrant?”

“You definitely don’t want that,” Thomas chimed in.

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