Free A Specter of Justice by Mark de Castrique

someone else?”
    Newly sighed. “All right. I’ll get the tech over and we’ll copy the message. Then I’ll have a little chat with the good reverend.”
    â€œThat’s one way,” I said with little enthusiasm. “Or I could just pick up the phone and call the number. The message is on my machine.”
    â€œWhy not?” Newly said. “Can I listen from Nakayla’s extension?”
    â€œYeah. Once I dial through, I’ll wave for you to pick up the lit line.”
    I punched in the number and signaled Newly. A click sounded as he lifted the receiver but the phone was still ringing on the other end.
    No one answered and I expected perhaps the best we would get was someone’s voicemail. Then the ringing stopped as the connection was made. I heard a clunk as the phone struck a hard object like the floor or a table.
    A groggy voice whispered, “Hello?”
    It was only one word but I recognized the speaker immediately.
    Hewitt Donaldson.

Chapter Seven
    â€œHello?” Hewitt repeated.
    Newly looked at me and frowned, expecting me to engage the mystery voice in conversation. He didn’t recognize Hewitt.
    Before I could somehow extricate myself from the awkward situation, Hewitt said, “Sam, is that you?”
    We were done in by Hewitt reading his caller ID. I had his number stored under his name on my cell phone and had long forgotten the actual digits. That’s why I didn’t recognize them on the office system. The curse of making things too convenient.
    â€œYes, Hewitt,” I confessed. “I’m here with Detective Newland.” I put Hewitt on alert so he would choose his words carefully. I had no idea why he would have left so tasteless a message that was beyond even his dark humor, but I wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt.
    â€œGood morning, gentlemen.” His groggy voice instantly cleared. “How can I help you?”
    Newly gave me a nod to start talking.
    â€œHewitt, did you leave me a voicemail on my office phone last night?”
    â€œYour office?”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œYou mean after we spoke at eleven?”
    â€œYes. After that.”
    â€œWhy would I have called your office? I knew you weren’t there.”
    I looked at Newly through the open doors and shrugged. I didn’t know how much the detective wanted me to reveal about the message’s content.
    â€œDonaldson. This is Newland. Would you mind telling me where you were at one-thirty this morning?”
    â€œYes, I would mind. But I’ll make an exception. I was with Nathan Armitage. We were closing down the Thirsty Monk till two.”
    The Thirsty Monk Pub was a popular watering hole around the corner from my office and just a few blocks from Pack Square.
    â€œDid anyone borrow your phone?” Newly asked.
    Hewitt paused a moment, analyzing the questions to deduce the reason for our call. “Someone left a message from my number, right?”
    â€œYes,” I said, taking control of the conversation away from Newly. “A vague threat to me and a disparaging remark about Nakayla. Your name didn’t show up on the office machine.”
    â€œWell, it wasn’t me and no one used my phone. It was in my pocket the entire evening.”
    â€œAnd this is your number?” Newly rattled off ten digits.
    â€œYes.”
    â€œIs it unlisted?”
    â€œNo. You can find it on my business card. But, I have no idea how it appeared on Sam’s office phone.”
    â€œSome sort of spoof device,” Newly said.
    I had no idea what he was talking about and I knew Hewitt was even less tech savvy than me. “You want to explain?” I asked.
    â€œYou buy a special computer card or a piece of hardware and it substitutes a bogus ID. You can make it read anything you want. There was a huge scam last year run out of India that impersonated the IRS. Those initials actually appeared as the caller. The crooks