Hank found the snapshot of Leonard Driscoll’s photograph that he took with his cell phone, transferred it to his laptop, and made a copy on the portable printer he had procured for use in the motorhome. They were now ready for their trip to the casino, which was only a fifteen minute drive from the RV Park.
With Helen by his side, carrying her large cupful of quarters, they made their way from the concrete parking garage to the large barge made up like a riverboat that held Diamond Jack’s Casino. The casino wasn’t directly on the river but was moored in what could best be described as a pond adjacent to the river.
Upon traversing the elaborate gangplank they entered the casino and immediately heard the unmistakable din of hundreds of slot machines’ beeps, bonks, and whistles. “Music to my ears,” Helen remarked as she shook her large plastic cupful of quarters.
“I’m going to head over to the poker tables to try to question the dealers,” Hank said as they paused inside the entrance. “I’ll look for you at the slots when I’m done.”
“Sounds like a first rate plan,” Helen said as she squeezed Hank’s hand and turned and headed toward the slots and their alluring clamor.
Hank walked up to the Four Card Poker table and watched as the dealer dealt out cards to the players and to himself. Hank understood that in this version, the players played against the dealer. Each player received five cards to make the best four card poker hand possible. However, he saw that the dealer received six cards to give the house the advantage.
When the hand was played out, two players beat the dealer and three lost. Before dealing the next hand the dealer said to Hank, “Good evening, sir, we have an empty chair if you care to join in on the fun.”
“Thanks for asking, but I don’t like the odds,” Hank replied. “I was wondering if you could take a second to help me out,” Hank continued as he discretely opened his coat to reveal his badge that was fastened to his belt.
The dealer nodded, which Hank interpreted as a go ahead, and so he showed the man the picture of Leonard Driscoll. “Was this gentleman a player at your table up until last month?”
“He looks kinda familiar but he didn’t play at my table. You might want to ask Bernie at the Texas Holdem table.”
Hank gave him a thumbs up and moved on. He found three Texas Holdem tables and noticed one a dealer with the name badge, “Bernie.” Hank waited until the present hand was played out and said, “Bernie?” as he again discretely flashed his badge to the dealer and showed him the picture. “Does this gentleman look familiar to you?” Hank asked.
Bernie nodded and said, “I have a break coming up after the next hand. I’ll meet you in the lounge.”
Hank gave Bernie a nod and went to find Helen. He found her as she fed a quarter into a slot machine and pushed the play button. The machine did its gyrations and beeped as ten quarters dropped into the tray.
“Looks like you’re having some luck,” Hank said.
“I was down to about a quarter of my cupful but I won them all back so far,” Helen replied
“If you can tear yourself away from the machine I would like you to accompany me to the lounge to talk to a dealer named Bernie,” Hank requested.
“It’s a good time to quit, now that I about broke even,” Helen answered. “I’ll invest a few more quarters later.”
Hank found a booth in the lounge and he and Helen sat and waited for Bernie to show. A waitress approached and took their drink order. Helen ordered a glass of chardonnay and Hank got a bourbon and water.
The waitress returned with their drinks as Hank saw Bernie enter the lounge and waived at him. As he approached the booth the waitress asked, “The usual, Bernie?”
“Not just now, Alice. I already had my limit,” he replied.
Bernie pulled up a chair from a table across the aisle and sat at the end of the booth. “Are you with the Shreveport P.D.?” he asked Hank.
“No, I’m private,” Hank answered. “I’m working on behalf of Peter Driscoll.”
“I see. I read what happened to Leonard in the newspaper. It’s a shame. He was a decent guy. I can’t believe his brother would murder him.”
“We are sure he didn’t,” Hank responded.
Bernie considered Hank’s answer then asked, “Well, how can I help you? I only have a few minutes.”
“I appreciate you taking the time. How often did Leonard frequent your table?” Hank asked.
“Leonard came in about once a week, usually on a Friday night.”
“Was he a heavy better?”
“No, not Leonard,” Bernie answered. “He just enjoyed playing the game. He would have been happy playing penny ante if we had a table.”
“Then he didn’t suffer any heavy losses I assume?” Hank asked.
“No, not Leonard,” Bernie answered again. “He usually broke about even, but he did always leave a nice tip. I think it was mainly to impress his lady friend though.”
“His lady friend? What did his lady friend look like?” Hank asked.
“Well, she was brunette and much younger than him.”
Helen perked up thinking that Susan Driscoll could appear younger in the dim lights of the casino and asked, “Leonard didn’t by any chance call his lady friend by the name of Susan, did he?”
“No, now let me think.” After a pause Bernie answered, “I think he called her Lucy.”
“I see. When was the last time you saw him here at the casino?” Hank asked.
“I remember it was the Friday before I saw the newscast about his disappearance. The reason I remember it was because as Leonard and his friend were leaving he happened to pass by the slots and dropped a buck in a machine just for passing luck. The son-of-a-gun hit a ten thousand dollar jackpot.”
Helen smiled, laughed, and said, “Some people have all the luck.”
“Yeah, but it appears his luck ran out the next week,” Hank offered.
Bernie the dealer nodded. “Well, good people, I have to get back to my table. I hope I’ve been of some help to y’all,” he said as he rose from his chair.
“You’ve been a great help indeed,” Hank answered as he handed Bernie one of his agency cards. “If you think of anything else that may help, please call.”
“Will do,” Bernie answered as he left to return to his Texas Holdem table.
“This case just keeps getting more interesting by the minute,” Helen remarked.
“We can now add Ms. Lucy as another player to the game, Hank said. “I wonder if Susan Driscoll knew about her.”
“If she didn’t, I have a feeling she soon will,” Helen answered.
“Yes, I’m afraid so,” Hank responded as he finished off his bourbon. “Do you want to play some more slots before we leave?”
“No, I’ve had enough for one evening. Just take me home ... lover boy.”
Hank raised his eyebrows mischievously.
Helen just smiled and winked.
Sunday morning was quiet at the Tall Pines RV Park. Hank made his usual trek to the campground office for the morning paper while Helen prepared a breakfast of eggs benedict. When Hank returned to the Bounder Helen announced that she just had a call from Ali and they were invited for Sunday dinner.
“That’s great. We need to talk with Preston about his audit of Driscoll Furniture’s books,” Hank replied.
“Ali did mention that he found a few interesting entries,” Helen added.
“Why don’t we get ready early and swing by Mrs. Driscoll’s neighborhood?” Hank suggested. “There’s a good chance that Mike the plumber will be at home, being it’s a Sunday.”
“I guess I can save my crossword puzzle for later,” Helen said. “A talk with Mike Billings might prove very interesting. We can also stop in at Susan Driscoll’s afterward to ask her if she suspected that Leonard was stepping out on her.”
Hank parked the Honda in front of the house next door to Susan Driscoll’s and walked with Helen across the street to knock on Mike Billings’ front door. Billings’ white van was parked in the driveway but after repeated knocks they received no answer. They walked back across the street to Susan Driscoll’s house and started up the driveway. As they approached the house a man dressed in a sweat suit and sneakers came out the door.
“I saw you across the street knocking on my door. If you are Jehovah’s Witnesses forget it. I’m not interested.”
“I assume you are Mike Billings?” Hank asked.
“Yeah, so what?” Billings answered. “Who are you?”
“I’m Hank Moran of Moran Investigations, and this is my wife and associate, Helen Moran. We’re investigating the death of Leonard Driscoll and need to ask you a few questions.”
“A private detective, huh? Why would you want to question me about Leonard’s death?”
“Think back to the Wednesday that he disappeared. We just need to know if you saw Leonard Driscoll leave the lot down the street with his boat in tow.”
“I don’t remember the last time I saw him leave with the boat. Besides it’s none of my business and I’m usually out on plumbing jobs most days.”
“Mr. Billings, what is your relationship with Susan Driscoll?” Helen asked.
“Now that is none of your business,” Billings answered.
“We know that you and Susan Driscoll had been seeing a lot of each other, before and after her husband’s death,” Helen continued prying.
“I am, or was, a friend to both Susan and Leonard,” Billings answered. “And I already told you that it’s none of your business.”
Trying to catch Billings off guard Hank asked, “Mr. Billings, do you own a motorbike?”
Billings took a moment to gather himself from the sudden change in questioning and answered, “Yes, I own a trail bike. What of it?”
Just then the front door opened and Susan Driscoll appeared wearing an expensive looking house coat. “Mr. and Mrs. Moran, what are you doing here?”
“I was just leaving,” Billings interrupted and turned and walked across the street to his house.
“Mrs. Driscoll, may we come in?” Hank asked. “We have uncovered some additional information about your husband and would like to talk with you further.”
“Yes, please come in,” she answered.
They sat in the same arrangement as they had during yesterday’s interview.
“I know how this may look with Mike Billings just leaving, but he has been a great friend and I don’t think I could have made it through the last few months without him. And I’m sorry I can’t offer you coffee. It seems I just ran out,” Susan Driscoll said.
“That’s OK, Mrs. Driscoll, we won’t be long,” Helen said.
Susan Driscoll looked at Hank and asked, “Now what is this additional information you have about Leonard? And please, call me Susan.”
“Susan, had Leonard ever mentioned anyone by the name of Lucy?” Hank asked.
Hank could tell the question hit a nerve with Susan. She seemed to feign thinking about the question then answered, “I think he did on occasion mention someone by the name of Lucy who handled some advertising work for the store. She was a commercial artist and created some newspaper spreads.”
“Susan, this next question might prove difficult for you. Were you aware that a younger woman by the name of Lucy accompanied Leonard numerous times to Diamond Jack’s Casino?”
The question seemed to have no shock effect at all on Susan as she took her time to formulate an answer. “Yes, I knew about his affair with Lucy Chatham.”
“Did Leonard know about your affair with Mike Billings?” Helen asked.
Susan stared at the floor before she answered, “You might as well know the whole story. Yes, both Leonard and I have had extramarital affairs, which we both found out about. We had an appointment scheduled with a marriage counselor on Friday the twenty-third, but as things turned out he never came home Wednesday night. We were going to try to reconcile our marriage.”
Susan grabbed a tissue from the box beside her chair and dabbed at her eyes. However, Hank noticed no presence of tears.
“How did Mike Billings feel about your reconciliation with Leonard?” Hank asked.
“He became upset when I first told him, but then he seemed to settle down and wished me luck. He seemed sincere when he said he was glad to see his two friends try to save their marriage.”
Some friend! Helen thought.
“That’s all we have for now, Susan,” Hank said. “We apologize for having to delve into your personal affairs, but it may prove relevant to the case.”
“I’ll do whatever is necessary to find my husband’s murderer,” Susan responded.
On the short drive to Ali’s house, Hank and Helen discussed the case. “Is Mike Billings our main suspect?” Helen asked.
“He’s at the top of the list for the moment,” Hank answered. “He had the means and a possible motive. We also have to find out more about Ms. Lucy Chatham and see if she knew about Leonard and Susan’s reconciliation plans.”
“It also wouldn’t hurt to find out if Susan cashed in on a large life insurance policy on Leonard,” Helen said.
“You do have an inquiring mind, Mrs. Moran. I think you have the makings of a fine detective. In my career I have found that the motives in most murder cases boil down to three things.”
“And what are they, sweetheart?”
“Love, hate, or money. Or any combination of the three.”
Ali served a delicious meal of Cajun meatloaf, mashed potatoes, gravy, and Brussels sprouts. The meatloaf had just enough cayenne pepper and hot sauce to make the back of Hank’s neck damp. The extra bottle of Tabasco Sauce on the table went unused. When Hank was stuffed to the gills he managed to ask Preston about his perusal of the Driscoll Furniture books.
“I found two interesting entries in the ledger,” Preston said. “The first was the deposit of a three thousand dollar check from Hegemon’s Furniture Manufacturing based up in Little Rock.”
“Why is that of interest?” Helen asked.
“Usually Driscoll Furniture paid Hegemon, not the other way around,” Preston explained.
“He could have borrowed money from Hegemon to meet the store’s payroll,” Hank suggested.
Chip, who was sitting quietly at the table spoke up and offered his explanation: “Maybe Mr. Driscoll was blackmailing Mr. Hegemon and Mr. Hegemon bumped him off so he wouldn’t have to pay him any more money.”
Hank chuckled at Chip’s idea and said, “It looks like we have a junior detective in the family. Chip, where did you learn about blackmail?”
“I heard it on a detective show on TV and then I looked it up in the dictionary on my computer,” Chip answered.
“Well, actually, Chip, your idea may not be too far-fetched,” Hank said. “I ran across a similar situation when I was on the force. It wouldn’t hurt to check out Mr. Hegemon.”
“Preston, what was the second item that you found?” Ali asked.
“On the Monday before Leonard disappeared he made a deposit of six thousand five hundred dollars with no record of where the money came from,” Preston said.
“Aha, we know where it came from,” Helen said. “The Friday before, he hit a ten thousand dollar slot machine jackpot at Diamond Jack’s Casino.”
“I wonder what he did with the other thirty-five hundred,” Hank pondered.
“Maybe he gave it to his lady friend,” Helen suggested.
“Preston, were there any checks written to a person named Lucy Chatham?” Hank asked.
“Let me think ... yes, there were two checks written in the last six months. They were written under the advertising budget for just over three hundred dollars each. And what is this about Leonard having a lady friend?”
“Both Leonard and Susan Driscoll were seeing other people. They had decided to seek the help of a marriage counselor, but Leonard disappeared a few days before their scheduled appointment,” Helen explained.
“So, he was stepping out with Lucy Chatham? I find it hard to believe that Leonard was the type,” Preston remarked.
“Would it be possible for you to get Ms. Lucy’s address and phone number?” Hank asked Preston.
“I think so. I brought Leonard’s Rolodex home with me along with the ledger just in case I had to cross reference some entries. It’s back in my office,” Preston answered.
“Check to see if you have the information for Hegemon’s Furniture Manufacturing also,” Hank requested.
Preston retreated to his office and returned a short time later with a printout containing a copy of both Lucy Chatham’s and Hegemon’s Rolodex cards and handed it to Hank.
“This is interesting,” Hank said as he looked at the printout. “Lucy Chatham lives over in Homer, which is only a few miles from Lake Claiborne.”
“Hmmm, we’ll also have to check if Ms. Lucy had access to a trail bike,” Helen offered.
“What’s the significance of a trail bike?” Preston asked.
“We have a witness who heard a small engine motorbike leave the scene the night Leonard’s boat was returned to his neighborhood,” Helen replied.
“Well, you two sure have dug up a lot of information in the last two days. I think Peter has done well in hiring you.” Preston said.
“Thanks, we try,” Hank answered.
On Monday morning, Hank entered the Caddo Parish Courthouse a half hour before Peter’s arraignment to meet with Peter’s lawyer, Carlton Oglethorpe. Hank recognized him immediately from the picture the young lawyer emailed to him the previous afternoon.
Oglethorpe gave the appearance of an athletic young man who looked like he would be more at home on the football field than in a courthouse. His firm handshake further enhanced Hank’s impression of him.
“Good to meet you, Mr. Oglethorpe,” Hank said as they shook hands.
“Likewise, Mr. Moran,” Oglethorpe replied. “I had my secretary do some research into your background and I was greatly impressed with your record during your career with the Kenner P.D. and even more so with your recent exploits up in Michigan. And as long as we’ll be working together on Mr. Driscoll’s behalf, please just call me Carlton.”
“Will do, Carlton, and please, call me Hank. Here is the copy of the receipt for the fuel filter that Peter purchased to repair his brother’s boat motor. Leonard’s wife did confirm that Peter changed the filter. Now, there are a few things we uncovered over the weekend that you should be aware of before the arraignment.”
Oglethorpe pointed to a bench and suggested they sit so he could take notes.
“OK, Hank, what have you got?” Oglethorpe said as he pulled out his yellow legal pad from his briefcase.
“First, and most important, we have a witness who saw Leonard’s boat being returned to the empty lot at about three in the morning. Immediately following this she heard a motorbike start up and leave the neighborhood.”
“So, it would be impossible for Peter to be the murderer because he was at home and in bed with his wife at the time the boat was being returned,” Oglethorpe surmised.
Hank smiled at Oglethorpe’s quick deduction and said, “The second thing is, Leonard and his wife, Susan, were cheating on each other and had an appointment to see a marriage counselor for reconciliation the Friday after he disappeared. Susan was seeing the plumber across the street and Leonard was seeing a younger woman named Lucy Chatham, who just happens to live in Homer, about three miles from where I found his body.”
“Hmm, that knowledge might help. It does throw open the possibility of additional suspects and could create more doubt in the judge’s mind,” Oglethorpe commented.
“OK, I see everyone is heading into the courtroom,” Hank said. “Let’s see if we can break Peter out of here.”
Judge Harlan Mays presided over the proceedings. It must have been a low crime time period over the holiday weekend as there were only three other cases besides Peter’s. Two men arrested for DUI were released on one thousand dollars bail each and one woman was arrested for spousal abuse. She apparently hit her husband over the head with a frozen Thanksgiving Day turkey because he forgot to take it out of the freezer two days before to defrost. He was presently in the hospital with a concussion. She was released on five hundred dollars bail. Hank thought it looked encouraging that Judge Mays was so liberal with granting bail requests.
The few remaining people in the courtroom were Peter Driscoll, Peggy Driscoll, Hank, Attorney Oglethorpe, District Attorney Drew Callahan, Detective Craig Meyers, and two uniformed security personnel. Judge Mays eyed the remaining people then said, “Now we get to the case of Mr. Peter Driscoll. Mr. Callahan, what are the charges?”
“The people of Caddo Parish contend that Peter Driscoll willfully murdered his brother, Leonard Driscoll, on the twentieth of October, 2010 by bludgeoning and drowning the victim in Lake Claiborne in Claiborne Parish,” Callahan replied.
“How does Mr. Driscoll plead to the charges against him?” Judge Mays asked.
“I plead innocent of the charges against me, Your Honor,” Peter replied.”
“Your plea is so noted,” said Judge Mays.
A very confident Carlton Oglethorpe spoke up, “Your Honor, I would like to enter a pre-trial motion to dismiss the case against Peter Driscoll due to lack of sufficient evidence.”
“I see, young man. I assume you are Mr. Driscoll’s attorney. I haven’t seen you in my court before. What is your name?”
“My name is Carlton Oglethorpe, Your Honor.”
“Any relation to Billy Oglethorpe?” Judge Mays asked.
“Billy Oglethorpe is my grandfather, Your Honor.”
Judge Mays’ face lit up with a big smile. “How is the old billy goat handling retirement?”
“He’s as feisty as ever, Your Honor,” Oglethorpe replied.
Judge Mays, still smiling, turned to D.A. Callahan and asked, “Mr. Callahan what is the evidence you have against Mr. Driscoll?”
“Your Honor, Peter Driscoll’s fingerprints were all over his brother’s boat and motor. A length of anchor rope was found in Peter’s garage that matched the anchor rope that was attached to the anchor that weighed down Leonard Driscoll’s body. Peter Driscoll was heard in a heated argument with his brother the week before his disappearance. Peter Driscoll was the beneficiary of a one hundred thousand dollar life insurance policy on Leonard Driscoll. And, finally, Peter Driscoll has no verifiable alibi for the time of his brother’s murder.”
“Hmm, on the surface, the evidence is only circumstantial but seems sufficient to send the case to the grand jury,” Judge Mays commented. “What have you to say, Mr. Oglethorpe?”
“Your Honor, Private Investigator Hank Moran of the Moran Investigations Agency has been very busy over the weekend and has uncovered critical information that counters the charges against Peter Driscoll,” Oglethorpe replied. “With your permission I will let Mr. Moran relate his findings.”
“Mr. Moran, I am not familiar with your agency. Is your agency licensed in our state of Louisiana?” Judge Mays asked.
“Your Honor, my agency is one month old and is based in Kenner, where I was a detective with the Kenner P.D. for over thirty years,” Hank replied.
“Why does your name sound so familiar to me?” Mays asked.
“Perhaps you heard my name on the national news relative to a certain event concerning a noted U.S. senator from Michigan,” Hank replied.
“Ahh, yes, I remember now,” Judge Mays replied. “You rescued the senator from a river up there and I believe that you were also presented a distinguished citizen’s medal by the president.”
“You are correct, Your Honor,” Hank replied.
“Well, welcome to my courtroom, Mr. Moran. The young Mr. Oglethorpe said you were busy over the weekend. Please tell us what you found with regards to Mr. Driscoll.”
“I will address each item of evidence in the order that they were presented by D.A. Callahan.” The judge nodded and Hank began. “He first mentioned Peter Driscoll’s fingerprints on his brother’s boat and motor. Peter changed the fuel filter on his brother’s boat motor the Monday before his brother disappeared. This fact was verified by Leonard’s widow, Susan Driscoll. I also was able to obtain a copy of the sales receipt for the purchase of the fuel filter kit from Parker Marine.” Mr. Oglethorpe walked forward and handed the receipt to Judge Mays. Hank continued, “The repair took place in Leonard Driscoll’s driveway and was witnessed by Mrs. Driscoll. The repair is the reason Peter Driscoll’s fingerprints were on the boat and motor.”
“Next is the matter of the anchor rope,” Hank continued. “Leonard Driscoll lost his boat anchor during a fishing trip to Lake Claiborne the previous month. The loss of the anchor was confirmed by Susan Driscoll. She also confirmed that her husband borrowed Peter’s anchor and rope, which Peter brought with him when he repaired Leonard’s motor. It was Peter’s anchor that was found connected to Leonard’s body and that is the reason a matching piece of anchor rope was found in Peter’s garage.”
Hank further stated, “Next, I will address the witnessed argument between Peter and his brother. Peter and his brother enjoyed arguing with each other. According to Peter, it was a normal occurrence to argue in an amusing manner about most anything. He claims they even argued about the best lure to use whenever they went fishing together and they both came back alive. Susan Driscoll said that both Leonard and Peter were laughing together and shared a few beers the evening Peter changed the fuel filter. This was two days before Leonard’s disappearance.”
Hank noticed Judge Mays taking notes and occasionally glancing towards D.A Callahan. “This is all very interesting,” the judge said. “Please continue, Detective Moran.”
“Driscoll Furniture was the purchaser of one hundred thousand dollar life insurance policies on Peter and Leonard,” Hank continued. “The beneficiary on both policies was the surviving brother. It was a mutually agreed upon arrangement to cover their final expenses so as not to burden the families.”
“Now, it is true that Peter does not have a rock solid alibi for the evening of Wednesday the twentieth of October up until about ten p.m. when he arrived at home,” Hank conceded. “Peter said he was working late at the store, but as there are no security cameras from the office to the parking lot, we could not substantiate it. Peter did receive a cell phone call from Leonard at approximately five p.m. to inform him of a furniture delivery that had to be made the next day, so we do know that Leonard was still alive at that time. In the course of questioning Leonard’s neighbors we found two witnesses. The first will testify that she saw Leonard Driscoll leave with his boat on Wednesday afternoon. The second witness saw a person returning Leonard’s boat to the empty lot where he normally kept it at approximately three a.m. The witness also stated that the boat was not parked the way Leonard normally parked it and that she heard a small motorbike start up and leave the scene. We contend that the person who murdered Leonard Driscoll returned Leonard’s boat at that time and left on a small motorbike. That person could not have been Peter Driscoll, as he was at home and in bed at the time.”
“Well, Detective Moran, it seems you did a thorough job in refuting all of the Shreveport P.D.’s evidence against Mr. Driscoll. Detective Meyers, the information brought forth by Detective Moran implies that you did not do a very thorough investigation. Did you in fact question Leonard Driscoll’s neighbors about the boat situation?”
“No, Your Honor, that was on our list of things to do this afternoon,” Meyers replied.
“Well in my opinion that should have been done before Mr. Driscoll’s arraignment,” Judge Mays stated. “It is also my opinion that Mr. Peter Driscoll is free to go home. District Attorney Callahan and Detective Meyers, the next time you come into my court please have real evidence and not mere speculation as to the guilt of the accused!”
With the rap of his gavel Judge Mays declared, “Court adjourned!”
Court security removed the handcuffs from Peter and he was immediately greeted with an embrace from his wife. After releasing Peggy, Peter made his way to Hank. “Hank, I don’t know how I can ever thank you enough for the fantastic job you did.”
“Peter, I could not have done it without the help of my wife and partner, Mrs. Moran,” Hank replied. “She found the witness who saw the boat being returned. Now, if you don’t mind, we still have about a week left in our agreed upon ten day time limit. Once I start a case I like to finish it. I would like to continue the investigation into your brother’s murder.”
“Please take all the time you need, Hank. My name won’t be entirely cleared in the public’s eye until the real murderer is found.”
Hank was approached by Detective Meyers in the hall outside of the courtroom. “Hank, you really did a number on us in there. We thought we had enough to hold Peter over for trial and were planning to continue the investigation. We were not counting on him hiring you.”
“Where do you stand at this point?” Hank asked.
“I’ll have to talk to Callahan, but other than Peter Driscoll we have no additional suspects. Since the crime occurred over in Claiborne Parish, he just might claim it falls under the jurisdiction of the Claiborne Parish Sheriff’s Department.”
“Craig, Peter Driscoll wants me to continue my investigation into Leonard’s murder. Is there anything you might have that would help that you did not disclose?”
Craig Meyers smiled and said, “I have a photograph of a tire tread left by a small motorbike. The tread mark was found in the gutter directly behind Leonard Driscoll’s truck parked on the street in front of his house. If you give me your address I can email it to you.”
Hank gave Meyers his card and said, “My cell number is at the bottom. I always thought you were a stand-up guy and a gentleman, Detective Meyers.”
“Good luck with your investigation, Detective Moran,” Meyers said as they shook hands. “If you need any help from the Shreveport P.D. give me a call.”
“I’ll do that,” Hank replied.