The Railroad
Page 22
Penny started wringing her hands. “What if this Benoit knows where…oh god, what if Carl…”
“If he does,” Samuel said, “I’ll fucking kill him.”
*
Anthony Greene walks through a darkened parking lot with his daughter Beatrice. The little girl holds his hand tightly, clearly afraid of the deserted parking lot. While Anthony tries to reassure her, even he feels a certain amount of nervousness. Though they are in a suburban industrial park, far away from any high crime areas, he knows he’ll feel a lot better once they’ve made it to the car.
Anthony carries some papers in a briefcase that he’s just taken from his office. While he’s concerned about being in a deserted place late at night, his need for the papers overcomes his fears. Beatrice looks furtively all around her.
A man detaches himself from the shadows surrounding a car not more than fifteen feet from them. Other human shaped shadows can be seen to the rear and to the sides. Anthony stiffens and pulls Beatrice behind him.
The first man walks up to them. He nods his head to point to a spot behind where they stand. “Keep going to your car.”
Beatrice begins to cry. “Who’s that Daddy?”
Anthony stares at the man. “No one, honey,” he answers, not taking his eyes from the man.
The man gestures with his thumb. “Your car.”
Anthony begins to walk. A man comes up behind Beatrice and firmly guides her forward. She watches as the man takes her father’s hand and quickly slices the tip of his index finger. She tries to run to him but the man holding her restrains her. She can see the man using her father’s hand like a writing implement, drawing some demented design on their front windshield.
With a sudden burst of strength, Beatrice pulls herself from the grip of the man holding her and runs to her father. She looks into his face and sees him wince from the pain of his wound.
“Daddy!” she screams.
Someone grabs her from behind. “Let’s go,” a voice hisses behind her. As she’s roughly turned away, she catches a glimpse of her father being pulled up and frog-marched away. Beside his face, on the windshield are numbers written in his blood: 4-5-1.
*
We agreed to meet again in a few days. Samuel, or Sam as he became once he decided he trusted me, said he would talk to his friends and find out more about his brother-in-law, and Benoit as well. If he found enough, we’d go back to the District Attorney and present our case. Penny and I had talked her husband out of the “walking tall” kind of justice he seemed to crave, making him agree to do nothing spectacular.
As if he sensed something, Benoit called me that night, around two. I’d just started drifting off to sleep when the phone rang. I was conditioned enough to my new life to wake up fully and take a good guess at who was calling me so late.
“Pedophiles for peace,” I said brightly.
“You’re a fucking asshole. Do you know that?”
I could almost smell the booze through the phone. “Whoa! You are shit-faced Bob. I thought the new Bob Benoit wasn’t going to get drunk and embarrass himself. At least that‘s what you told me the other night.”
He gratified me by responding to his full name, something that wouldn’t be lost on whatever telco type would be listening. “I don’t give a shit what I told you. You stole my wife and kid. I don’t have to give a crap what you think.”
“We’ve been all through that. People run away from you when you molest little children. No one likes a pedophile, Bob. Why do you think they make them report their presence when they move into a new town?”
“Hey, Mike! I’m glad to see you have friends visiting. Was that one of your fag friends from Manhattan?”
“You know you’re boring. Don’t you think I already know that you’ve got people watching me? You’ve played this hand already too many times. Do you think I’m impressed by the fact that you can hire someone else to follow me? It doesn’t take much intelligence.”
He blew up as I’d hoped. “I can do more than just follow you! How long did it take you to clean up your house after you had your visit? I can send people in there anytime I want. You’ll never know when it’ll happen asshole!”
“You don’t have the balls to break into my house.”
“Who do you think did...”
I guess he wasn’t as stupid as I’d hoped, even drunk, because he stopped. It must have occurred to him what he’d said. I waited until the silence dragged out. I could imagine him trying to think of something to say that would save face. “You’re not even good at being a bully, Bob. You’re too erratic.”
He hung up immediately. Not bad for a night’s work.
*
I called Ted Denello the next day. “Have you checked your, whatever the name is?”
“It’s a dial number recorder Mr. Dobbs. And yes I have. A very interesting conversation. We also checked your records and it seems that Mr. Benoit has called you at least seventeen times at two in the morning or later.”
“I just want to point out that we can assume he’ll say it was all friendly conversation.”
“I don’t think anyone will believe that.”
“I just wanted to let you know.”
“I’ve dealt with this kind of person before. Anyway, I’ve talked to my superior and he told me that if we get one more harassing call then we can contact the police and charge Mr. Benoit.”
“I’m not sure I should tell you this, but I’m not sure the local police will want to help you.”
“I’m used to dealing with state police. We usually have to since these kinds of harassment cases usually involve several jurisdictions. Mr. Benoit doesn’t live in the same county as you.”
“Okay. I’m just warning you.”
“I appreciate that. There’s something else I wanted to tell you. It makes the situation a little more confusing.”
“What?”
“Well you’ve mentioned a lot of silent calls. Are these calls short in duration, perhaps five minutes, and you’re the one who always hangs up?”
“Uh, I’d say so.”
“That’s the odd thing. We have a number of calls of that nature, but none of them come from Benoit’s phone.”
“So where do they come from?”
“A number of different places. We have some from prepaid cell phones that can’t be traced. There are a couple from land lines, but they’ve been disconnected or the people who own the number claim they never called you. We think that some of these numbers might have been hijacked. Stolen, by a phone hacker I mean.”
“Does that make you think that it wasn’t Benoit? He could have gotten some of his friends to call.”
“That’s true. I can’t disprove that, but the cell phone calls seem to come from a wide geographic area. We can trace those through the cell towers that were used. They come from all over New England with a couple from New York State.”
I sat there, trying to figure it out. “It still could have been Benoit. I’m sure he knows some people who know how to do dishonest things like hacking phone numbers.”
“Very possible. But we can only investigate the calls that are clearly harassing. That should be enough if we can get enough evidence.”
“So what should I do?”
“We’re going to keep monitoring your calls. When we have enough evidence, we can make a formal charge against him.
*
That night the news reported another Chapter and Verse killing. This time it was a man who had disappeared. At first I was surprised, but I immediately realized I shouldn’t be; men could be victims as well.
This time Anthony Greene was missing. His car was found in an industrial park. Police reported that the crime scene indicated that he’d been abducted as he walked to his car with his four year old daughter, Beatrice. As expected, the numbers 4-5-1 were written in Greene’s blood on the windshield.
It seems that Greene had taken his daughter from the house of his ex-wife Kaitlin. Greene had accused Kaitlin�
��s boyfriend James Belding of sodomizing Beatrice. Greene’s ex-wife had denied the accusations despite the fact that Belding had immediately fled to Delaware.
As much as I tried to avoid the thought, I wondered if it would ever come to pass that I’d be hearing Eileen’s name coming out of the mouth of one of these oily reporters. It was hard for me to conceive of what I’d do then.
Almost as if on cue, the phone rang. I expected silence at the other end and I wasn’t disappointed. This time I didn’t feel motivated to bait Benoit to try to get a reaction from him. All I did was to sigh and hang up.
*
I woke up at 11:45 the next morning to the sound of the phone. It was Moskowitz. “You’re famous. Turn on channel nine and watch the whole News at Noon. Call me back at my office when you’ve watched it.”
I waddled out to the living room with nothing but a robe on. The news began with the standard murders and news of the invasion of Afghanistan. Then I saw a familiar face; Samuel looked taller on television, something I knew would please him. They showed him being led away by police. The reporter told us that Sam had confronted his wife’s brother-in-law with a gun, accusing him of engineering the disappearance of his wife’s sister, Cassie, believed to be a victim of the Chapter and Verse Killers.
They cut to Samuel who was screaming back over his shoulder as he was being led away. “This man killed my sister-in-law with his friend Bob Benoit. These idiots are taking me to jail and they’re going to get away with it. What about justice for Cassie!”
The rest of what he said was lost to the microphone. I sat there for a moment, considering the possible consequences. Samuel was too much of an asshole to have kept my name out of things so I could assume that Benoit would hear about it. That would just get him angrier.
There wasn’t much I could do about it. I called Moskowitz, figuring that if I didn’t admit to anything he’d never be sure what happened. “I can smell you in this, Mike,” was the first thing he said to me.
“Why?”
“It just fits. How would this guy know that Bob Benoit has anything to do with a runaway wife or anything else? Why would he connect him to this Chapter and Verse shit? Did you go meet this guy?”
“I actually wanted to talk to his wife. He came along.”
“God Mike, you’re a shithead! Do you really think you’re going to solve this case?”
“I have good reason to believe Benoit is involved.”
“Don’t tell me! I don’t want to know. That’s for the benefit of anyone who’s listening. All you’re going to do is get yourself into trouble.”
“If you thought that you knew that someone was killing people what would you do?”
“I’d go to the cops.”
“Fuck you, Moskowitz. You know my relationship with the cops.”
“You start a firestorm and you think you’re going to be able to control it? That it’s going to be constructive?”
“As far as I’m concerned, if I’m right about Benoit, the worst that will happen is that someone will be forced to watch him. I don’t care about his feelings.”
“Then you should care about your life. Has it occurred to you that the fact that you keep making weak accusations against him eats away at your credibility? You’ve just become a pain in the ass to the cops...”
“Who you told me I should go see.”
“-and they won’t listen to you again. And then they won’t protect you.”
“So I should go on letting people be killed.”
He grunted. “You don’t know who’s doing the killing, asshole.”
“Don’t call me that. I’m not taking the chance.”
“You know you just need to get out of here. All you’re doing is stirring things up.”
“Yeah. Fuck you.” I hung up.
*
It was four in the morning when Benoit called. I had tried to stay up for it, knowing that he would. Samuel had been all over the news for the entire day and evening. Benoit, being Benoit, had no choice but to call.
He sounded drunk which I started to consider true to form. “You’re like a gnat, Mikey. You just keep buzzing around and annoying me. It’s like you’re asking me to come swat you. I will. I don’t care who knows. I can send my boys back to your house or wait for you on some road as you drive by. I can make you pay and you’ll never see it coming.”
“I guess you heard about Sam. I guess there are other people who feel the way about you that I do. Why is that?”
“That fuck Sam isn’t any safer than you are. I’ll make that clear to him.”
“You’ve left a big nasty trail behind you, Benoit. And if you don’t stop...”
“I’ve said all I’m going to. You’ll wish you never heard my name.”
I started to speak, but I heard a click and he was gone.
Chapter Thirteen
The next day at around 9:30, Ted Denello called. “I thought you’d like to know that we’re going over to Bob Benoit’s house right now to arrest him for telephone harassment.”
“What?”
“Uh…I thought you’d be happy. He did call you again last night and make threatening statements, didn’t he?”
“Yes, but…oh god. When are you going?”
“We’re in the car now, Mr. Dobbs. We’re almost there.”
“Oh boy. Okay. Let me know what happens.”
“I will.”
I had to admit that having Bob Benoit endure the embarrassment of being arrested for making threatening phone calls really tickled me; he’d be treated like a naughty teenager and be really embarrassed.
I fell back to sleep, feeling a little apprehensive. But there was a smile on my face.
*
It took me a few hours to get the nerve to call Penny Jenz. Somehow I felt responsible for what had happened to Samuel, though I knew it was his own brand of stupidity that had gotten him into it.
Penny didn’t seem all that happy to hear from me. “I’m really sorry,” I told her.
“I guess you are.”
“Uh...yeah. So what’s happening to Samuel?”
“Well he was carrying a gun, but our lawyer seems to think he can get him off with no jail time. Just parole and they want him to go to one of those anger management courses.”
I almost laughed. “Well that doesn’t sound so bad.”
“No.”
She didn’t seem disposed to want to be friendly. I started to feel awkward. “Look, if you need any help. I do know some lawyers who might help.”
“Well…I don’t know what to say. I know Samuel gets excited pretty easily. I told him to stay away from Carl, but I wish you hadn’t found us in the first place!”
The last few words had come out like an accusation and I found myself getting pissed off.
“Sorry. I didn’t know I was going to find that anyone knew Bob Benoit and I had no way of knowing that Samuel was so excitable. I feel bad about the whole thing,” I let it trail off, feeling suddenly stupid.
She sighed. “But you didn’t know I have an asshole for a husband. And I do. Let’s just let it go at that.”
*
The next morning Moskowitz called me to tell me two other stations had picked up the story and that it was on page eight of The Times. He seemed less hostile; maybe he’d decided I was in the right.
“I heard about the phone company thing,” he said quietly.
“Aren’t you going to give me a hard time?”
“I’ll say this. When you start a fire, you really start one.”
“It seemed like the right thing to do at the time.”
“Well expect an even bigger blaze. I hear that the police are being forced to consider Benoit and Carl Bruler as suspects in the Chapter and Verse murders.”
“What? Benoit told me that I was the one who was in trouble.”
“You spoke to Benoit?”
“He called me. That’s the phone call that got him in trouble with Verizon.”
“Oh. Well, tha
t’s the story I heard. So maybe Benoit will have to be careful with you for a while. He can’t afford any more trouble if he’s being investigated.”
“I doubt that will keep him quiet. He’s not long on logic.”
“I don’t know if you have more luck or brains, but you’ve managed to tie him up.”
“I won’t take any credit. I didn’t know what would happen when I went to see Penny Archer. And the phone thing, well I just called them. They did the work.”
“Still in all. Look, why don’t you come over for dinner tonight?”
“If you’ll let me be seen entering your house. I am a pariah.”
“Don’t be a dick. Just come over at seven.
*
Andrew answered the door this time, a big smile on his face. I looked around for the cause but didn’t see anything.
“Dad and Mom are waiting inside,” he told me, a knowing look on his face.
I considered the possibilities as I followed him into the living room. As it turned out I didn’t have a clue.
Sitting next to Moskowitz’s wife was a woman I’d have to describe as very attractive but not beautiful. Oddly, this made here seem all the more attractive to me than if she’d turned out to be downright gorgeous, if that makes any sense. Male logic is not always impeccable.
Moskowitz had the same knowing smile on his face that Andrew had worn only seconds before. Moskowitz’s wife seemed to be the only one handling the whole thing with any maturity. “Mike,” Moskowitz announced. “ This is Melinda, my wife’s sister.”
“Actually, my half-sister,” his wife said.
Melinda smirked at her sister. “You’re so anal, Kate.” Andrew thought that was hysterical. Kate threw up her hands as if she’d been through this conflict before.
Moskowitz smiled his best smug smile. “I guess we’d like you to meet Melinda.”
I gave him a withering look. “That occurred to me.” Then I turned to Melinda, realizing that my being pissed off might insult her or, at the very least, make her uncomfortable. “I’m glad to meet you, Melinda.” I made a show of sitting down as if I was very happy to be where I was.