Cogent

Chapter 3

Chapter Three

Cogent arrived promptly for his scheduled interview with Jones Detective Agency in Metairie. He was scheduled to meet at 2:00 p.m. with Court Dexter for the private investigator job. Cogent sat in the pristine lobby for about half an hour and looked at his watch. He was becoming restless, waiting for the interview. After all, Cogent hadn't been to a job interview since he graduated from the police academy over twenty years ago. But he was confident that his experience would speak for itself. The fresh-faced twenty-five-year-old gentleman approached the lobby and extended his hand out to Cogent. This was not what Cogent had expected. Cogent imagined that he had solved more cases while the kid was in diapers than Court Dexter had seen in his young life. Cogent politely extended his hand to the young man and arose from the upholstered chair.

“Hi, Mr. Cogent. I'm Court Dexter. Nice to meet you,” the young man greeted Cogent.

“Yeh, nice to meet you,” Cogent attempted to present himself in an enthusiastic manner. But he was not overly excited about the job prospect.

“Come on back, and we can talk a bit about what this job entails,” Court smiled and escorted Cogent to the back office. Cogent trailed behind Court.

“Please have a seat. Tell me a little bit about yourself,” Court graciously encouraged Cogent.

“Well, I worked for the Sheriff's office in New Orleans and have recently been laid off,” Cogent said flatly.

“Why's that?” Court questioned him.

“Why's what?” Cogent asked as he looked at Court's young face.

“I mean, why did you become laid off?” Court clarified.

“Well, just a difference of opinion, I guess. That's why I'm here. I need a job,” Cogent cut to the chase.

“I see. And how long did you work for the Sheriff's Department, Mr. Cogent?” Court attempted to gather the background information on Cogent. He was taking notes. Cogent watched as Court took down every word of their conversation.

“Over twenty years, son,” Cogent replied.

“Please, call me Court!” Court quickly corrected Cogent. It showed on the young man's face that he was somewhat offended by the remark.

“Oh, I'm sorry. It's just that at my age...” Cogent put his foot in his mouth and was now trying to make up for the error.

“It's o.k. Tell me, what line of work were you in at the Sheriff's Department? What makes you feel as though this would be the right type of work for you, Mr. Cogent?” Court continued on with the interview.

“I was a crime scene investigator. And I was a good one! If I do say so!” Cogent affirmed.

“Well, sir, it looks as though you are more than qualified for this position. This job involves investigating the whereabouts of reported missing persons for the clients that we serve. Think you are still interested, Mr. Cogent?” Court asked.

“As a matter of fact, I think I am, son...er...Court. Sorry,” Cogent stuck his foot in his mouth again. But Cogent had the gleam back in his eye. He was excited to have the opportunity to be back in the game so quickly.

“Thank you, Mr. Cogent. Please report back here on Monday, and we'll get your orientation started,” Court said as he shook Cogent's hand one final time before exiting the office. Cogent walked out to his car with a new spring in his step. He had been pleasantly surprised by the opportunity that the job prospect unveiled. He just might enjoy this after all. He turned on the radio and put the car into drive. He pulled out of the small parking lot and onto the main street. The news came on the radio, and the newsman announced that there had been an update on the Lydia Secrest murder investigation. Cogent turned up the volume and listened intently. The newsman announced that there would be more information later to follow. The news was over, and music was now playing on the radio. Cogent had missed it. He still relished the thought of solving the case. He grabbed his cell phone and dialed Bill Spence.

“Hello,” Bill Spence answered the cell phone from his patrol car. Cogent could picture Spence driving around town covering the beat.

“Hey, Bill. It's Jack,” Cogent greeted him in a pleasant manner.

“Hey, what's up, Jack?” Bill suspected that Cogent was calling in another attempt to extract information from him about the case, but he didn't let on.

“Just wondered if you had heard anything...I mean...er...I mean I just wondered what was going on?” Cogent wasn't very good at lying. He had never been. It was just in his nature, to tell the truth.

“Going on with what, Jack?” Spence pled dumb. He knew exactly what Cogent meant after all the years of working with him in the Sheriff's Department.

“Oh, with anything. Anything new?” Cogent was still fishing.

“No, nothing. Not really anything, Jack. Same ole, same ole, you know,” Spence reassured Cogent in a friendly tone.

“Say, Spence, how would you like to check out that new Creole place down on Harrison Street tonight?” Cogent offered. If he could meet Spence somewhere private, he just knew he could get him to talk.

“Sorry. Not tonight, buddy. My wife and I have plans. But thanks anyway. Hey, listen, I'm gonna have to get off of here. I have to head back to the station pretty shortly,” Spence attempted to cut the conversation short in an effort to elude further questioning by Cogent.

“Oh. No problem. By the way, any news on the case, Spence?” Cogent could not resist asking just once more.

“Goodbye, Jack,” Spence stated firmly and ended the call. Cogent shook his head. He just couldn't get Spence to say anything. He turned the radio volume back up in hopes of hearing the latest report on the case. Cogent was becoming increasingly obsessed with the case. Perhaps when he started his new job, his interest in the case would subside. He pulled the car over to the curb as he noticed the disposable camera lying in the seat next to him. He had forgotten to get the film developed. He carefully opened the door to the film storage and removed the roll of undeveloped film. He placed the film in the small black plastic cylinder. He then proceeded to take off down the street. He might as well stop off at one of those places where they develop the film in one hour, he thought. After all, he could check out the town of Metairie while he was waiting. He spotted a local department store and pulled into the lot. He went in and left the film with the clerk for development. Cogent then went back out and got in his car. He got his map out of the glove box and looked over the town of Metairie. He was hungry and decided to head to a fast-food restaurant for a bite. Cogent headed toward the direction of the main street. There were bound to be some fast food eateries on the main drag. He eyed a hamburger joint and stopped off. Cogent gulped down his food. He was used to grabbing a burger and eating on the run while working on a case. This was a habit to him. Cogent carefully folded the wrapper around the hamburger so that he would not spill ketchup on the seat of his prized jalopy. He wondered how many more years the old car would hold up. Once he got his new job, perhaps he could afford to invest in a newer model. Oh, who was he kidding besides himself? He could virtually afford almost anything he wanted. Cogent had never married and had few friends. His job had been his whole life. Now that was gone. He slid into the driver's seat of the old car and started the ignition. He flipped on the radio again.

“And now we have an update on the news breaking story about the murder of Lydia Secrest. Vaught Patton has been arrested for the murder of the sixty-five-year-old woman...” the radio announcer proclaimed. Cogent turned the volume louder. He couldn't believe that they had arrested the young man whose alibi on the night of the murder had checked out completely. Cogent knew the Sheriff was well aware that the alibi had checked out. Why was the Sheriff's department intent on implicating this boy in the murder? Cogent was certain that the murder had been one in a series of many. And this boy certainly could not be linked in any way to any of the others. Cogent smelled something fishy. He continued to listen as the announcer disclosed the purported facts. Cogent headed back to the store to pick up the processed pictures. Maybe these would help shed some light on the case. His thoughts raced as he recalled the Sheriff warning him about persisting in the gathering of facts. Why was the Sheriff so dead set against this? If Cogent could help with the case, what was the harm? Besides, his work was for free now. Why would the department decline free help? That is unless they were trying to hide something or someone! Cogent felt some sense that the Sheriff was scared that the case would be blown wide open and the boy identified as the murder suspect would be released. He knew the boy was innocent. Cogent couldn't stand for this. It was wrong. He had worked too hard on this case for the facts to be swept under the rug. The announcer went off the air, and the music resumed just as Cogent pulled into the department store parking lot. He went in and picked up the pictures. He took them out to the car and turned on the dome light. Cogent pulled out the set of reading glasses and perched them on his nose. He studied the pictures carefully. The clarity of the pictures was very poor from the disposable camera. He was used to the pictures developed by the film lab at the Sheriff's department. Maybe he could talk Spence into securing the camera from the department for him to use on the sly. He would call Spence back tomorrow. Cogent figured that he had pushed Spence as far as he dared today. Cogent tucked the pictures away in their envelope and put the car into drive. He sped out of the parking lot onto the street. Cogent knew he had better watch his speed. This was a new town for him. He was used to driving any speed he wanted in New Orleans, and all the cops knew him. They wouldn't dare pull Cogent over for speeding. However, that would most likely change since his termination from the department. He slowed down and took in some of the local scenery. He would have to get used to this new town if he were going to work here.

Cogent spotted a woman walking up the steps to the law firm. In an instant he knew it was Madison. What was she doing in this town? He hadn't spoken to her since he got fired. He wondered what she thought about the termination. Cogent quickly stamped on the brakes of the car and shifted into reverse. The woman looked straight at him. It was definitely Madison. She had a look of sheer terror in her eyes. She turned away from him in an attempt to avoid him. She pretended that she hadn't seen him. He pulled the car up to the curb next to the steps and rolled the window down.

“Hop in! We need to talk!” Cogent urged Madison.

“I...I can't right now. I have an appointment, and I'm late!” Madison replied in a nervous fashion.

“An appointment with who? What are you doing in Metairie? Why are you going into that attorney's office? What's going on, Madison?” Cogent was filled with questions.

“Look, Jack, I can't talk right now. O.K.? I'll explain later!” Madison said as she stepped into the office and closed the door behind her. Cogent couldn't figure out what Madison was doing in this town. He recalled bailing her out at the police station when she had been arrested for supposedly tampering with police evidence. “That was probably a setup, too!” he said aloud to himself. Cogent thought that this was a poor attempt by the Sheriff to bust Cogent for something. He figured the Sheriff had cooked it up. Cogent didn't think it was anything serious, but he and Madison never really discussed what had happened. He wondered if this had something to do with it. He drove off and headed back to New Orleans.