Chapter Forty Three
Johnny dried his hair with a green hospital towel and looked in the mirror on the back of the shower room door and combed his brown locks. He walked into the main room and buttoned up his shirt and checked his wallet. He retrieved his shoes from the main cupboard to the side of the window and then sat on the bedside chair and put them on.
There was a knock at the door as he threw items into his bag, which the police had retrieved from the hotel. The door opened and Lieutenant Dewar looked in. “Mr Duncan–feeling better?”
“Yes, but I’ve to take it easy, especially around the head area.”
The lieutenant pushed the door open further and walked in looking at his feet.
“This doesn’t look like a social visit,” said Johnny.
“John Duncan I am arresting you for the murder of Kyle Miller…”
Johnny just watched the cop’s lips move, but never heard his rights. He was handcuffed by Chris Gaft, who had followed Heb Dewar into the room.
Johnny was put in an interview room at the Second District Police Station. The room was bare save for a table and four hard plastic seats.
“Can I have an attorney?” Johnny asked.
“We’re waiting on your attorney coming. Someone has paid for one for you,” said Lieutenant Dewar.
“Who?”
“We don’t know, but it seems you have a fairy godmother, because someone paid for your hospital bills as well,” said Lieutenant Gaft.
Guided into the room was a tall, thin man dressed in a dark, blue suit. “Gentlemen,” he said as he nodded. “I’m Randall Page of Foster and Page Attorneys- at-Law.”
Heb Dewar pointed to the empty seat beside Johnny.
“Can I have a private word with my client please?” The lawyer asked the two policemen.
When the two detectives left the room Randall Page turned his chair to face Johnny. He was a man in his late thirties, had deep brown eyes and light brown hair the front of which receded toward the sides. “Okay Mr Duncan, tell me your story.”
“First of all this may sound odd, but was it someone who works for the CIA who paid for your services?”
The man smiled. “No Mr Duncan the man who paid my company does not work for the CIA; if he did, I would not have taken the case.”
Fair enough, thought Johnny as he told the attorney the whole story. He didn’t leave much out–he needed someone to trust, and this guy seemed to fit the bill.