“No problem,” said Marty. “No sense making you get a warrant.”
Cap pointed at me and said, “This is Mike Ferris, the ex-cop I told you about.”
“Your captain says you know a thing or two about cars,” said Marty.
I shrugged. “I’ve been helping my girlfriend shop for a compact car. I’ve read the latest Consumer Reports car magazine.”
Marty said, “I fucking hate Consumer Reports.”
“Sorry,” I said.
“Relax,” said Marty. “Would you mind if I asked what car you drive?”
“Honda Accord '06.”
“Which engine?”
“V6.”
“Ah, the kickass model.”
“Right,” I said.
“What type of V6 is it?”
“Type?”
“Compare the ‘06 Honda V6 with a GM V6 from the same year.”
“The ’06 Honda V6 engine was more sophisticated than a comparable GM engine. For example, the ’06 Pontiac G6 V6 sucked in comparison.”
“What’s the technical term for the Honda engine’s sophistication?”
“I’m drawing a blank. Give me a hint.”
“Over …”
“Overcam.”
“You mean ‘overhead cam’,” corrected Marty.
“I knew that. I just said it wrong.”
“Does your Honda have brake drums?”
“Nope, the V6 has disk brakes front and rear. Don’t know what brakes the 4 banger models have, though.”
“He’ll do,” declared Marty.
“Do for what?” I asked.
“Undercover,” said Cap.
Marty said, “I want you to go undercover selling new cars on the day shift. My cousin is the daytime new car sales manager, he'll be in on it.”
As per usual, I was spending the night at Lela’s house. Also as per usual, I was soaking in Lela’s antique claw foot bathtub. Lela sat on the commode lid.
I said, “I can’t work security at your shop tomorrow.”
“Because of the murder case?” asked Lela.
“Yes, I’m going undercover as a car salesman.”
“I’ll call Dude and ask if he can start sooner than we planned.”
“Thanks for understanding.”
“You, I understand. The DEA, not so much.”
Lela then proceeded to launch into a lengthy diatribe about the DEA, Director Leonhart, and the insanity of federal drug scheduling. I lobbed Lela some softball questions when she paused for breaths.
It was day one of my undercover assignment. Phil was next up. He was stalking the front door of the dealership when Lela walked in.
“Lookin' for a car?” asked Phil.
“I have an appointment with Mike Ferris,” replied Lela.
“How could you? He just started today.”
I walked over and said, “She's an old client. She had my cell number from when I worked somewhere else.”
Lela played along. “I didn't buy a car when I was looking back then. But, I called Mike this morning and said I was again looking for a car. I was surprised when he said he was working here now, but he promised a good deal so I agreed to come over.”
Phil pointed to the ceiling to indicate he was still next up. I nodded to confirm I got the message. Phil walked away.
“Why are you here?” I asked.
Lela showed me a printout from the dealership's web site.
“I want this car,” she said.
The car's stock number was on the web page printout. I got the keys for the car and we went outside.
The car was a candy apple red clone of the white death car. Top of the line, remote entry, bluetooth, navigation, all in a compact car. We took a test drive. Lela drove.
I said, “It's cool you can get remote entry, bluetooth, and nav in compact cars now.”
“You have to pop for top of the line, though,” said Lela.
“Top of the line also gets you leather seats.”
“The leather is nice, that's for sure. A little chilly today, though.”
I said, “This button here is for the heater under your seat.”
“Turn that puppy on.”
The heated leather seats sold Lela. She was ready to buy the car.
I was talking to the Sales Manager.
“She has this printout from our web site,” I said. “Five hundred rebate and an extra five hundred savings from our dealership.”
“She wants a whole thousand off a compact car? You're killing me Ferris.”
“That's what your web page says.” I waved Lela's web page printout.
“Let me see that.”
After a quick look at the paper, the Sales Manager said, “It's a misprint. We say five hundred off, meaning the rebate, then the web page software adds another five hundred off and suddenly it's whole thousand.”
I said, “I know this woman. She's an activist for everything. She'll crucify you if you try to weasel of out the numbers on that web page printout.”
The Sales Manager hid the paper by twisting his arm behind his back and said, “What web page printout?”
“Dan, get real.”
“Ok, what's her trade look like?”
“Piece of shit '99 GM. She's expecting just the courtesy five hundred.”
“Ok, that's the deal then. I know a guy who's always looking for GM parts. I'll wholesale it to him for a quick score. Try to get her to use us for the loan.”
“She's paying cash.”
“You're killing me, Ferris.”
He threw the web page printout in my general direction. It fluttered to the floor.
Meanwhile, Lela was sitting in the big handicapped corner stall of the dealership's woman's room. A man and a woman entered the restroom, then immediately started arguing.
Lela started the video recording app on her iPhone and pointed the camera thru the gap in the door of the stall.
The woman said, “You knew he was doing me, so you killed him.”
“I wasn't like that,” said the man.
“Oh, you killed him for another reason?”
“I didn't kill your fucking precious Bruce!”
Lela said, “I have video of a man and a woman arguing about a dead guy in the ladies room.”
“There's another dead guy in the ladies room?” I asked.
“No, focus here, Mike.”
“Yesterday's dead guy?” I said.
“Bruce?”
“Yep, that's him. Give the video to Ben. I can't break cover.”
“What about the car?”
“It's yours for the web page price. We'll knock off five hundred for your trade.”
“Is it a good deal?”
“Yes.”
“Ok, I'll do it. What now?”
“Now you sign the offer letter, then I introduce you to the finance guy.”
“But, I'm paying cash. I don't need a finance guy.”
“Figure of speech. The finance guy prepares all of the documents. You don't need loan documents, but there's still other paperwork.”
Lela drove off in her freshly purchased candy apple red car. There was a new oil spot on the front lot when they moved her trade to the back. Shortly, a companion oil spot began to form under her old car in the the back lot. The GM parts guy was already sending a truck for the car, it would be gone before the day ended.
Phil and I traded ups for an hour. Neither of us had a sale.
A Latino family arrived in an old two door Dodge sedan. The husband and wife got out of the front. The back seat was crowded with kids. Three boys and a girl squeezed out of the back, thru the passenger door.
As the Latino family formed up outside, a Mercedes convertible pulled in. A man in a suit coat and cowboy boots got out of the Mercedes.
Phil was up. We could tell the Latino family was going to beat Mercedes guy to the dealership door, therefore Phil would get the Latino family and I would get Mercedes guy. Instead, Phil charged out and greeted Mercedes
guy.
The family came into the dealership and swarmed around a minivan.
I walked over and said, “I'm looking at a family that needs a roomy vehicle. Am I right?”
“Si,” said the father.
The mother pointed at the tallest boy and said, “He is the star on our middle school football team. It is very difficult getting him and his friends to practice and games.”
I said, “Football in middle school?”
The boy said, “They call it soccer here, mom. I've told you like a million times.”
“Want a test drive?” I asked.
The parents were in the front seats, the man driving. Soccer boy and I sat in the first back seat. The three younger kids sat in the second back seat.
The car was a good compromise between base model and top of the line. This minivan was serious bucks. It costed more than Lela's top of the line compact sedan.
I said, “It's cool that you get remote entry, bluetooth, and nav on all models of this minivan.”
“I don't need that stuff,” said the father, as he drove. He paused a moment before the word 'stuff'. I could tell he started to say 'shit', but changed it to “stuff' because his kids were in the car.
I synced my cell phone to the minivan's bluetooth and called Lela. The call played through the minivan's sound system.
“Hey there,” said Lela.
“Hey yourself,” I said. “How do you like your new car?”
“Great! I'm driving it now. I got you on bluetooth. It's cool talking while driving without holding the bloody phone to my ear.”
“You're preaching to the bluetooth choir,” I said.
“Still at work?”
“Yep. Say, about that package for Ben ...”
“Already taken care of. I'm driving to meet him now.”
“Thanks girl.”
“Come home quick after work. We gotta go out and drink to my new car.”
“It's a date. Sorry, I gotta go.”
“Bye.”
Soccer boy said, “That was majorly awesome.”
“What was awesome?” I asked, innocently.
“The phone in the radio.”
“Oh ya, the bluetooth, I like it. But, your dad said he doesn't need stuff like that.”
“Dad is old school.”
“I also like the bluetooth, Luis,” said the mother to her husband.
Back at the dealer, Luis bought the minivan. He had a good job, but also a long history of paying cash. He didn't have any previous loans that were paid off. His only loans were a pair of mortgages on his house. He didn't qualify for the lowest new car interest rate. Finally, Luis agreed to two points more.
The sales manager said, “Good job on that sale, Ferris. You unloaded a minivan and we got two extra points on the loan.”
Phil said, “You owe me half of the sale to the beaners.”
“How do you figure?” I said.
“I was next up, but you stole the beaners from under my nose.”
“You chose Mercedes guy.”
“No, I settled for Mercedes guy after you stole the beaners.”
“Mercedes guy blew you off, eh?”
“Test drove a pickup. No sale.”
“Tough titty.”
“You owe me half the minivan.”
“Go pound sand up your ass.”
Phil suggested a peace offering, so I met Phil for drinks after work. It was a standup bar about a mile from the dealer. Phil said hi to the drunks at the end of the bar.
They had Coors on tap. I ordered a small glass.
I pulled out a bar stool and prepared to sit down.
Phil said, “That's my stool.”
I moved to the next stool. Phil sat on his regular perch. A drink magically appeared in front of Phil. One of his boozer buddies bought it for him.
The drunk next to Phil said, “Hey Phil. Who's the geek?”
“New sales guy at the dealer,” said Phil.
When my glass of beer arrived, I drank a sip, then sat the glass on the bar.
I felt a tap on the shoulder, so I turned away from the bar, and looked behind.
“Wanna play pinball?” asked a tough looking guy.
There was an antique pin ball game behind me. Some drunks were starting a new game. They had room for a fourth player.
I said, “Nah. Go ahead without me.”
While my back was turned, Phil roofied my beer.
When I woke, Lela was there.
Lela said, “Well, hello sailor. How was the titty bar?”
“What titty bar?” I replied.
“When you stood me up for our date, I called Ben. He traced your cell to a titty bar near the car dealer.”
“What date?”
“We were going to drink to my new car.”
“Oh ya. I guess I forgot. Certainly I don't remember no titty bar.”
“Double negative, sailor. That means you DO remember.”
Lela left. She came back with Ben and Cap.
Cap said, “Good job staying off drugs, Ferris.”
“What?” I replied.
“You were high on Rufinol when we found you in that stripper bar parking lot,” said Ben.
“So, I wasn't actually IN the stripper bar,” I said.
Ben shook his head. “Sleeping in your car.”
“Why does my butt hurt?” I asked.
“Somebody shoved sand up your ass,” replied Lela.
The sand in the ass reminded me of the minivan argument, specifically reminding me that I told Phil to go pound sand up his ass. I told them about the argument and about meeting Phil in his bar.
I said, “I remember going to Phil's bar, but I don't remember leaving there. How did I get here?”
Ben said, “I took you to the ER from the titty bar parking lot. Then, I took you here.”
Lela said, “The only unknown is how Mike got to the parking lot of the titty bar. If Phil did it, wouldn't that make Phil a kidnapper?”
Cap said, “Technically yes, but tough to prove.”
Lela said, “Phil is a creep.”
Cap said, “Agreed, but we're mostly searching for Bruce's murderer here and I'm not convinced creepy Phil is capable of committing murder.”
Ben said, “I'll get a warrant to search Phil's home.”
“What's 'today'?” I asked.
“Tuesday,” said Lela.
“About two a.m.,” added Ben.
“Wow,” I said. “I don't remember anything after ordering a Coors at Phil's bar. That was after work, about six.”
“Well, here's something to remember ME by,” said Cap, as he laid a piece of paper on my chest.
“What is it?” I asked.
“The ER bill for when you were high on Rufinal,” said Cap. “The city won't pay for a drug related ER visit for you, Ferris.”
I was back at work. It was 10 a.m. Tuesday. My truck customer was haggling the price with Dan the sales manager, with me as the go-between. As the car salesman in the deal, I was the designated shuttle diplomacy guy.
Dan said, “Great markup on these V-8 trucks. This guy is haggling about peanuts, compared to what we're making.”
I said, “He agrees to your last price, but he wants mudflaps.”
“I've got a pair that says 'I paid too much for my overpriced truck'.”
“Perfect,” I replied, knowing the customer would get standard mudflaps, with the manufacturer's logo.
“This is the second day in a row you got the first sale. That's going to piss Phil off, not that I care much about the creepy drunk.”
“Tell me about it. He tried to make me give him half of yesterday's minivan sale. Can you believe it? I told him to go pound sand in his ass.”
“So, you really DON'T want to give him half of the minivan?”
“Of course not. It was bullshit. He was first up, but there were two customers arriving at the same time. He ran out to greet this guy in a suit driving a Mercedes. That left me with the Latino family tha
t bought the minivan. Now, Phil is saying the Latino family was his because he was up and the family reached the showroom first, but Phil intercepted Mercedes outside, so his customer never actually entered the showroom, so ...”
Dan held up his hand and said, “Stop, you're hurting my head.”
“Sorry.”
“Phil gave me a document this morning. It's allegedly signed by you. It gives him half of the minivan.”
“It's bogus. Put it in a zip lock bag and give it to the cops investigating Bruce's murder.”
“Will do,” said Dan.
“What about my customer?”
“Give him the cheap generic mudflaps and close that truck.”
“I'll tell him he's getting a great deal.”
“Of course you will.”
I closed the truck. The buyer was signing papers with the Finance guy.
Phil came over and said, “Nice sale.”
“Thanks,” I said.
“You sure were drunk last night.”
“I blacked out. I don't remember anything.”
“You were wild.”
“Can you fill me in? What did I do?”
“You did a couple of boilermakers at my bar, then you wandered off, saying you were going to a stripper bar.”
“I must've had a good time,” I said. “My wallet was empty when I woke up in my car in the stripper bar parking lot.”
“There you go. I guess you went to the stripper bar, like you said.”
“What I'd REALLY like to know is exactly when I signed the form that gave you half of yesterday's minivan.”
“The beaner-mobile?”
“Stop fucking calling them beaners, asshole.”
“Beaner, beaner, beaner ...”
“Eat shit and die.”
A beautiful woman in a short skirt got out of a VW.
“I'm up,” shouted Phil, as he dashed for the showroom door.
Phil took the woman on a test drive of a luxury sedan. After the test drive, the woman headed directly to the showroom, while Phil hung outside for a smoke.
The woman charged through the door and hurried over to me. I could tell she was steaming mad.
“Is something wrong?” I asked.
She pointed a thumb over her shoulder, and said, “That man touched my thigh while I was driving!” she yelled.
“I'm sorry, he's a jerk.”
“I want to press charges.”
“If you really want to hurt him, you should buy the car from me.”