"Just a sec," he interrupted. "The plate number just came in. No, it's not the same. This number belongs to an attorney in Simi Valley, California."
While I expressed my disappointment, he reminded me our culprit had a notorious habit of frequently changing stolen plates.
"There are video pictures of the motor home entry from Canada back into the United States. They show a couple of unique features. The vehicle has a Wall Drug bumper sticker and an emblem from a Kansas campground in the back window."
I thought about what he said. "The rig was parked front end out so I couldn't see the back."
He was willing to personally alert the local police and have them check out the vehicle even without clear cut identification. Knowing the local police included Detective Jackson, I suggested he contact the Simi Valley attorney first to find out if the vehicle I saw was in fact his. That was my entry to explain to Brennan my pending problems with the Keene detective.
I related that Jackson spoke to our California associate. I was still skating with Brennan and never came out and said Howie, whom I referred to by name, was the tipster. I'm sure Brennan guessed it. I xplained Howie wasn't the sharpest blade in the knife drawer and he didn't react well when pressured.
"Do you think this detective suspects you folks are involved with the tipster or does he simply doesn't know why you're all lying?" Brennan asked after a pause.
"He was suspicious of me when we talked in the hospital. I don't think he feels I'm culpable of a crime but he knows I'm holding back on him."
"Smart guy, this Jackson; you are holding back. Did you lie to him?"
"No. I just hedged around his questions. I really don't want to lie outright to the police."
"Let me see what I can do," he said.
I looked at my watch. "I don't have much time. I should be leaving for the police station in a few minutes."
"I'll try to catch him before you get there. Maybe I can get a friend or two to put a bug in his ear to back off."
I'd planned to wait until Betsy and Molly returned from walking Bumpus but I decided if I had to drive back into downtown Keene, I might as well swing by Wheelock Park Campground as it was on the way, at least sort-of. It might make me a few minutes late meeting with Jackson but all the more time for Brennan to speak with him first.
As the camper was on the wooded side of the circle, there was no simple access to the rear. I parked by the horse shoe pits and ambled down the road, as if out for a woodland stroll. Once I entered the woods I had only dead reckoning to come out near my quarry. After ten minutes of pushing back branches, I spotted the back of a pop up trailer. I tried to remember on which side of the Pace Arrow it was parked. I must have guessed incorrectly as I saw only empty camp sites beyond. After doubling back and being rewarded with a branch slap on my cheek I realized I wasn't wrong after all; the Pace Arrow was gone!