Sunday, October 25, 2015

The Reluctant Landlord - Part 7

First on my to do list the next morning was to track down my less that cognizant, delinquent tenant in hopes of collecting some back rent or at the very least gathering some information. Presenting myself at the local Social Services office I was given a sympathetic ear quickly followed by a phrase that was to become all too familiar: "I am terribly sorry but due to confidentiality constraints we are unable to provide you with any information".  Not even a dead or alive! 

The phone number of the County office that they provided me with produced similar results and a suggestion to speak to the police. Good idea!

The police station was not a particularly friendly looking building and it took me one complete walking lap to find the entrance.  Once inside I was faced with a single barred window and a speaker system. Struggling to decipher the distorted voice and with no lips to read, I was at a loss.  The voice finally took pity on me and invited me into a windowless interview room where I was to wait.  My anxiety level was quite high by the time the officer arrived.  Again explaining my predicament that I had not been able to make contact with this tenant for several years, her rent had not been paid and her belongings, including a car, were still in my garage and I wanted her out.  She was thought to be in care for dementia or possibly deceased.  What to do?

The officer shook his head and began " I am terribly sorry but confidentiality ......." This can't be happening!  "Can I dispose of her belongings?", I asked.  Negative! Especially not the car since I had no title or keys. Even though I owned the building and had received no rent in several years, I had no recourse, it seemed.  Time to take things into my own hands!!

Checking in with my solicitor seemed like a prudent move. Not your most aggressive sort, he scratched his chin and agreed that this was indeed, a conundrum.  Perhaps best if I didn't say too much more.

Time for some lunch.  Bangers and mash at the local pub where I used to take my mother hadn't improved since the last time we sipped sherry there. This time I thought it best to decline anything stronger than a cup of tea to drink. I needed my wits about me.

I had to find a garage with a tow truck willing to help me out.  The first one I found couldn't help but perhaps his neighbor could. At first the owner declined on the basis that a car cannot be taken to a junk yard without a title. What if it was left on the side of the road, I suggested. The registration plates were still on the car and so the owner would be contacted to remove it, I reasoned. Hmmm!  I'll take a look at it some time, he offered.  No time like the present I insisted and unbelievably he stopped what he was doing, climbed into my car and we were off to the site of the crime.

On seeing all the junk he started shaking his head until I assured him that I would remove it personally with my little car.  "You need a van", he said. "Do you have one?" I asked.  What a nice man, I had found.  He was willing to clear out the entire garage, for me, car included, and not accept payment until it was done. I was ecstatic.  One problem solved.

A few days after my return to the States, I received an email that the garage was empty with an invoice attached for a very reasonable amount.  I promptly paid him and notified another tenant that he could now take over the rental of number 7.  

Before I had finished patting myself on the back, I received another email.  The head honcho at Social Services had gotten wind of my inquiries and would be putting in a request for payment of back rent for Ms Phelps' garage and would be making arrangements to have it cleaned out.  It might take a while but if I would submit an invoice for the rent, I would be paid the full amount. At this time I thought it best not to mention my shady dealings or at least not until I had check in hand.

It was a good three months later that the check arrived, money I never expected to see. Once deposited, I thanked my benefactor and let her know that the garage had already been cleaned out and not to trouble herself.  That did not sit well! She wanted to know where the car had gone.  Vaguely I explained that I had found someone to tow it away but at this time couldn't remember his name.  Partly true but I might have been able to find the invoice if I looked hard enough.  Several more, somewhat threatening emails arrived suggesting that knowing where the car had gone was very important and that if I was unable to provide the information, the police would have to be involved.  Not too concerned that the police would be any more helpful that they had been to me, I stuck to my story and deleted the emails.


2 comments:

Jody said...

Hurry with the next episode! Jody

David said...

So...
Then...
The next day...
The good news is...
The bad news is...
The upshot was...
The time I spent in jail for grand theft auto...