There was a strange car parked by the curve when Sal and Carl returned home. It was a black sedan.
Sal parked the bus, and he and Carl walked inside where his mother greeted them. “This is Mr. Porter," she said. "He's a private investigator. Ted's apparently missing, and Vickie has no idea where he's gone.”
“A private dick? I don’t have to answer your questions,” Carl said, going straight for the basement. He had enough on his mind as it was, and he hated Ted.
Mr. Porter’s appearance was clean, cool, and deliberately ambiguous. He looked like a cross between Agent Cooper from Twin Peaks and Hugh Jackman. He'd made sure to position himself so that he was seated at the head of the table in his mother’s seat. His chair was pointed slightly to the right, which suggested that Sal should sit there during the interview, setting Porter up as an authority figure.
It was very clever, building rapport and preserving the upper-hand in an interview.
“Why hire a private investigator?" Sal asked, pretending to be stupid. "Why not call the police?”
“Since being a missing person isn't a crime, police are given a very limited role while conducting these types of investigations. As a general rule, all people have the right to be left alone, and police intrusion into their lives must be minimal.
"They've checked with local area hospitals, local homeless shelters, the County Coroner's website, and the County Morgue's website, and nothing.
"Ted's parents, however, believe there's foul-play involved in this case, so they've hired me,” Mr. Porter said with a smile. “Mrs. Williams, do you mind if I speak to Sal alone?”
His mother was skeptical, but she left the kitchen.
Sal sat in the chair facing Mr. Porter.
“So, Sal, you're not on Facebook. That’s unusual for a kid your age. You're quite the star of Strong Edge High. You're a straight-A student, a ladies man, and the star of the basketball team.”
He'd done his homework. A good investigator never asked a question to which he didn't already know the answer. The information was especially important if the interview became confrontational.
The more information you had about a subject, the easier it was to build a rapport. He had to earn his subjects' trust to get them to open up, which could be accomplished through small talk. Interviewers should look for common ground with the interviewee and start a conversation on that subject.
“Well, I don’t need social media. I don’t have to go on the computer to read people's annoying political rants or whining about failed relationships. One picture of a baby was barely distinguishable from the dozen posted in the days before. I also couldn’t care less for pictures of what people are eating for breakfast, lunch, dinner, and in-between-lunch-and-dinner snacks.
“I don’t need to see people flaunting their dirty laundry, lying, and going off on drunken rants—I can get all of that at high school.” Sal contorted his lips into a smile.
“Vickie's already explained why you were at her house,” Mr. Porter continued unaffected.
“And?” Sal lifted his eyebrows.
Mr. Porter paused. “You were the last person seen leaving the house. As a matter of fact, you were seen coming out of the house and then changing your mind and going back in. What made you go back in?”
“I forgot my cell phone,” Sal answered, never taking his eyes off of Mr. Porter.
The guy knew that he was up against an intelligent kid who knew more than he pretended, and he went in for the kill.
“I've come across an interesting tape of you, Sal. It shows you talking to the head of the kitchen at Strong Edge High, one Manfred Stone. He appeared quite shocked after you left. Do mind sharing what you said to him?”
The investigator mirrored Sal's body language, copying his gestures, hand motions, facial expressions—even how he sat and spoke. It was his way of showing he was just like Sal.
“The tape doesn’t show?”
“Unfortunately, it doesn’t record sound, and you have your back to the camera.
"I want you to know that I've spoken with everyone about the incident, and I feel that maybe you're not telling me everything you know,”
The guy was good. He wanted to throw Sal off and make him listen at the same time. Porter had finished his report long ago and was going straight for the confrontation, hoping Sal would slip up.
Something was lurking inside of Mr. Porter that told Sal he knew something.
“Why don’t you ask Mr. Stone?”
“I did. He wouldn’t talk. He said he didn’t remember. It was like someone had gotten to him, you know?”
Sal almost burst out laughing. “Who would do something like that?”
“Listen, Sal, you're a smart kid, and I know you want to do the right thing. Ted wasn’t going to be husband of the year anytime soon, but he's still missing.”
“I'm sorry. I don’t really know what to tell you. I didn’t really know Ted.”
Mr. Porter studied him as if he didn’t believe a word Sal had said.
Sal decided to perform his "magic trick" on him, but he was interrupted by his mother. “I’m afraid I'm going to ask you to leave. I don’t like the way you're talking to my son.”
Goddamnit—she'd probably heard the whole thing.
“Of course.” Mr. Porter’s eyes seemed to glow as he gathered his papers. He said goodbye and left the house.
Sal clenched his teeth. That guy was going to be trouble.