The detective looked about twelve years old. “You just found him there?” he said.
Steve was surprised the cop’s voice didn’t crack. “I heard the shot, yeah,” Steve said. “He wasn’t going anywhere.”
Nearly an hour had gone by since Steve had called 9 – 1 – 1. Now the local homicide team was on the job. They were in front of the doctor’s hovel, and Steve could hear the landlord screaming from inside his house. A few epithets and a couple of threats. Toward him.
“Now why is he so upset?” the detective, named Ross, asked.
“Why don’t you ask him?” Steve said.
“I’m asking you, if you don’t mind.”
“I do mind. I told you what happened. I told you twice.”
“I’m still not getting why you came to see Dr. Phillips.”
“Toothache.”
“He was a medical doctor.”
“I misread the ad.”
Ross heaved breath. He had ruddy cheeks and blue eyes. He could have been serving hamburgers at the In-N-Out. “You’re not helping yourself here. You think being an LA lawyer is going to do you any good, you got another — ”
“I don’t have to help myself. I don’t have to answer your questions, either. I had a personal matter to discuss with Dr. Phillips and I want it to remain personal. All I can tell you is that I came here, I started to talk things over with him, and he went in the back and shot himself.”
“You must have upset him.”
“He was already upset. The man was a drunk.”
“Drunks don’t always shoot themselves.”
“This one did.”
“And you have no idea why?”
“There are a million reasons for people to cash in. I’m sure if you dig around you’ll find out whatever you need to know. It was a suicide, not a homicide, all right? There’s nothing criminal here.”
“That’s what I have to find out.”
“I’m telling you. There’s only two people who know what happened in there, and one of them’s dead. The other one is right here and he’s telling you what happened. All right? Are we done here?”
“Mr. Conroy, you seem a little anxious to leave.”
“Yeah, I’m anxious. Like Al Sharpton at a Klan rally.”
“Excuse me?”
“Al Sharpton? Klan?”
“Sure.”
“I can tell you’re a real fan of stand-up.” Steve handed the man his card. “I’ll be happy to do up a formal statement and sign it under penalty of perjury. I’ll fax it to your office. Okay?”
“I may have some more questions for you.”
“I always like to help the local constabulary.”
“Excuse me?”
“Constabulary? It means ‘cops’.”
The detective’s face flushed like a fourth grader who just got reamed by the teacher. “I could hold you as a material witness, you know.”
“That would just make both of us crabby. I prefer that you be crabby and I go home. How’s that?”
“You’ll be hearing from me.”
“Looking forward to it.”