Private Detective: BENNINGTON P.I.: A thrilling four-novel political murder mystery private detective series...

by D. W. Ulsterman

  I admired how the congresswoman had managed to tell me to keep my damn mouth shut without actually saying, keep your damn mouth shut. She was a politician after all, and was again proving to me her abilities in that regard. The woman was tough and smart, and I’ll go to my grave knowing that kind of woman is many times over a greater force of nature than any man running around playing tough guy.

  ‘Oh, and what about that information I just handed over to you? What happens to it?”

  Betty Mears glanced back toward her desk and then looked up at me as she placed her right hand on my shoulder. The rain outside was coming down with greater force, the impact of the water against the window vibrating inside of the office.

  “Do an Internet search later today, Frank and you’ll see how we hide the truth out in the open. Once the information is out there, you’re safe, at least for now. When you get your next assignment, it’s a matter of you racing to obtain the information and getting it to me before someone tries to prevent you from doing so. It’s all a game really, but a deadly-serious one.

  “Which reminds me, what do you intend to do with Mr. Talbot?”

  I felt my jaw clench several times as I considered the question. It was Talbot who betrayed Walt, a betrayal that led to the death of an already dying man.”

  “I’m not sure yet Congresswoman. Probably won’t know until after I talk to the son-of-a-bitch. You want me to update you after the fact?”

  Betty Mears shook her head as her hand gently pushed me out into the hallway.

  “No Frank, it’s not my concern. I’ll simply say this. Once again, welcome aboard, and be careful. I’ll be in touch. Dedra will give you a quick briefing and then escort you back outside.”

  The door to the congresswoman’s office closed behind me, leaving me standing alone in the short, narrow hallway of her congressional office. A moment later, I looked up to see the tall, athletic form of Dedra walking toward me.

  “I was informed you’ll be doing more work for us, Mr. Bennington. Please follow me.”

  The view from behind Dedra’s form was nothing short of remarkable. Strong, long legs, one hell of an ass, and a quick, confident walk that hinted of ample abilities between the sheets.

  “Stop staring at my ass, Mr. Bennington.”

  My mouth fell open.

  How in the hell did she know that?

  “You’re reputation is well known around here, Mr. Bennington.”

  Dedra opened one of the hallway doors and motioned for me to enter.

  “Take a seat inside. This won’t talk long.”

  I stopped halfway through the door.

  “How’d you know I was uh, enjoying the view?”

  Dedra’s face attempted a smile, the burnt right side barely moving, as her eyes filled with playful mischief.

  “As I said, your reputation is already well established, Mr. Bennington. Plus, I really do have a great ass.”

  I laughed, finding myself liking Dedra more and more, and wondering what the T3 Group’s policy was on members dating each other.

  “Now sit down.”

  26.

  Dedra’s office would barely qualify as a walk in closet. There was a small desk placed in the far right corner behind which she sat down, which left an equally small chair on the other side of the desk that she motioned for me to use. There was no window, no artwork on the walls, no photographs showing a husband or children.

  A desk drawer was opened from which Dedra removed a simple, black cell phone and placed it between us.

  “If there is an assignment, I will contact you on this phone. We utilize a secure, third party communications service so as to separate T3 business from official congressional business. You are expected to respect that separation at all times Mr. Bennington. You will never receive payment here, but always at a location of my choosing, which will be communicated to you. If you wish to reach me, use that phone and that phone only.”

  I hadn’t forgotten about the payment the congresswoman had already promised me, and decided to make sure Dedra was aware of that promise as well.

  “Speaking of payment---“

  Dedra put a finger to her lips, indicating I was to be quiet.

  “All payments are done away from the Capitol Building Mr. Bennington. We cannot mix the congresswoman’s official duties of office with her involvement in the T3 Group. I’ll walk you out, and we can take care of other business then.

  Do you have any questions?”

  I shook my head. It oddly all seemed simple enough. They gave me a phone, and I wait for it to ring up the next assignment. Until then, I go on living my life as I normally would – one damn day at a time.

  “No, I just wait for your call. Unless you wanna grab a bite to eat or something? In an unofficial capacity of course. A woman’s gotta eat, right?”

  Dedra smiled, and I caught a fair amount of appreciation in her eyes at my sincere interest in hitting on her. I imagine a lot of guys were put off by her disfigurement, and didn’t give her a second look. That was their loss. While physical attraction is something I definitely appreciate, a woman’s real beauty is on the inside. Maybe a man needs time to figure that one out, and I’m sure many of them never do. Besides, Dedra’s wounds were the result of her service to this country, and any man who can’t find attraction in a woman making that kind of sacrifice, ain’t no man I would ever care to know, and can just kiss my fat old Irish-American ass.

  “No on the dinner date, Mr. Bennington, but thank you. So if you have no more questions, let me walk you outside.”

  I followed Dedra back to the office reception area, glancing at the wheelchair bound Hispanic man behind the reception desk. He gave me a brief nod. Dedra stopped in front of the desk and motioned toward me with her good left hand.

  “Alberto, this is Mr. Frank Bennington. He is joining our organization. Mr. Bennington, this is Alberto Diaz. He did three tours in Afghanistan and two in Iraq as an Army Ranger and has been an invaluable member of our staff for the last year.”

  Alberto reached across his desk with a large and powerful right hand which took my own in a grip that I instantly realized could likely have crushed every bone in my body. Despite his missing legs, the former Army Ranger’s upper body was a wide-shouldered mass that appeared to be cut from granite. His dark eyes, though not aggressive, held my own with an intensity that hinted of a former life that had seen much death and mayhem. They were the eyes of a man who knew all too well the potential cruelties inherent within humanity.

  “Nice to meet you, Alberto, and thank you for your service.”

  That last part of our introduction is something I think every American should do. You see someone in the military, or who has served, and you let them know you appreciate it. If I’m in a bar, doesn’t matter where, and I see a uniform, I buy that man or woman a drink, period - every damn time. The way I figure, especially for the ones who saw combat, who risked everything, they should never have to buy another drink for the rest of their life. It’s the least the rest of us can do for them, right? Instead, it seems most people just turn on the damn TV, or listen to whatever they call music these days, and it’s all just a culture of nothing, pushing more nothing, and we got a generation of empty headed, me-first assholes who can’t be bothered to thank anyone or anything that doesn’t include themselves.

  Alberto gave another brief nod and then I was out the door trying once again to keep up with Dedra’s fast paced walk, making my way with her down all too familiar hallways that were once home to my former life as a D.C. political operative. Five minutes later and both Dedra and I stood across the street from the Capitol Building where she turned to me and withdrew a simple white envelope and placed it into my hand.

  “Fifteen thousand dollars, Mr. Bennington per your agreement with the congresswoman. Now don’t lose that phone, and keep it with you and on at all times. My direct contact number is already input into the phone. I am available 24/7.”

  My eyes widened slightly as I smi
led back at Dedra, realizing I already hardly noticed the mass of scar tissue that dominated the right side of her face.

  “So then, maybe dinner is actually something we can consider?”

  Dedra rolled her eyes and gave her half smile.

  “You’re persistent aren’t you?”

  I shrugged after placing the cash filled envelope inside my jacket.

  “I learned a long time ago to never accept the first or second no, because in life, there’s always a maybe to be found in all of us.”

  Dedra nodded her head sarcastically.

  “Oh, you’re persistent and a philosopher, a man of many layers!”

  I smiled back at Dedra and extended my left hand.

  “I’m glad to have met you today, Ms. Donnigan. In my former line of work, I had to have the ability to size people up quickly, and I can already tell, you’re good people. I hope we do get a chance to sit down together over a good meal and some drink, and just…have a talk.”

  Dedra gave my hand a light squeeze. She was genuinely pleased by my words.

  “Thank you, Mr. Bennington. We’ll be in touch.”

  With that, Dedra turned and made her way across the street and back toward the Capitol Building. I watched her departure with unfiltered interest.

  She was right though – she really did have a remarkable ass.

  I was then left alone on the sidewalk waiting for one of the thousands of cabs that inhabit Washington D.C. to take me back to my apartment. I had cash in my pocket, the investigation against me for Walt’s death had been dropped, the goons who had wanted me dead would no longer be interested in me after knowing I handed over Walt’s file to the congresswoman, and I was now looking at future employment that could be profitable with people I actually respected. Profit and respect in Washington D.C.? Who knew?

  What started out as one shitty day was turning into something a lot more generous and accommodating. Not bad. Not bad at all.

  “Excuse me sir, would you be interested in signing this petition to fight global warming now?”

  I turned to see a young man of no more than thirty years standing a few feet from me. He was tall and thin, wearing an oversized, red Harvard sweatshirt and baggy jeans that appeared in danger of falling to his feet at any moment. His face was partially covered in a scraggly attempt at a red-brown beard, his blue eyes housing the mental vacancy sign so common to people like him.

  I glanced down at the clipboard in the man’s long fingered hands, hands that were overly soft, never having seen a day’s real work.

  “Did I hear you right? You’re asking me to sign some petition to fight global warming?”

  The man’s face took on the earnest arrogance of the imbecilic do-gooder.

  “Yes sir, to end global warming NOW.”

  I believe I was to be impressed by the emphasis placed on the word now, but instead, it did little more than piss me off. The unusually cold weather was biting through my jacket, and it appeared another bad rain storm was on its way.

  “I’m freezing my stones off out here, and you want me to sign some bullshit petition to end global warming? Like we have any say in what temperature this big bitch of a world decides it wants to be? How about you march off to commie China and ask them to stop tearing into the earth to get the minerals to make the high priced light bulbs that they sell back to us and are being shipped overseas in tankers belching CO2 by the ton into the atmosphere so mindless assholes like you can buy them up and feel good about thinking they’re making the world a better place?

  You people are morons. Maybe you should take a moment to look into something before you become a part of it, huh? You ever consider the possibility you’re being played? You ever think that maybe, just maybe, all this global warming, climate change bullshit is a manufactured crock that was meant to make rich corporations richer, and big government bigger? That you’re not doing any good carrying around that clipboard in those prissy little Ivy League hands of yours, but instead, only helping to sell the lie? Take your petition and shove it up your baggy jeaned ass, or I swear to God, I’m gonna do it myself.”

  The young man stood frozen in place, his mouth hanging open as his fingers clasped tightly onto the petition as if it was the only thing left keeping him from spinning off into the abyss. He stood like that for several seconds before straightening his rounded shoulder posture and shaking his head at me. I could sense him preparing a response, causing me to point back at him and growl a warning.

  “Not another word. You get walking - that way.”

  I was grateful to see the pathetic, skinny little bastard disappear down the sidewalk as a cab finally stopped alongside the street. Once inside the backseat, I remembered Arman was still holding Talbot for me.

  He might have gotten Walt killed, but I’m no killer. I can’t do that. Let him stew in his own corruption. I won’t be a party to it.

  I phoned Arman. He answered on the first ring, and as was his nature, the Russian enforcer got right to the point.

  “What do I do with him?”

  I paused for a moment and then responded.

  “Let him go, Arman. Just…let him go.”

  “You sure about that? You don’t want to question him?”

  I detected a hint of disappointment in Arman’s voice.

  “No, I got all the answers I need, for now anyways. Let the piece of shit go.”

  I heard background voices, and then Arman telling someone to shut up.

  “He wants to talk to you.”

  I contemplated ignoring the request, but decided, for whatever reason, to speak to Talbot.

  “Yeah, ok, put him on.”

  The strain in Jacob Talbot’s voice was apparent. He truly believed he was going to die.

  “You really letting me go, Frank? God, thank you. Thank you.”

  I closed my eyes, sensing the part of me that did in fact want Talbot dead.

  “Frank, did you meet with them, the T3 Group? Are you with them now?”

  I was only slightly surprised that Talbot already knew about the T3 Group, having already considered it as I sat in the congresswoman’s office.

  “None of your business, Talbot. I’m done with you now. So---“

  Talbot cut me off, the volume of his voice rising exponentially.

  “If you’re with them, you need to understand - it’s a war, Frank. You and me, we’re just foot soldiers in a much bigger conflict. There’s one side, and then there’s another side. If we die, they could give a shit about any of us. They only care about winning.”

  I could feel my rage over Walt’s death returning in full force. How easy it would be to just have Arman put a bullet in Talbot’s head and be done with him for good.

  “I already know what side you chose Talbot – the one that kills old men, the one that tried to kill me. If we cross paths again, it won’t end so well for you. Stay out of my way, you understand? Live with yourself, or die trying, I don’t care, but you leave me the hell alone. Go back to Ohio, and stay out of my town.”

  The sound of the phone being ripped from Talbot’s hand was followed by Arman’s voice.

  “So let him go?”

  I nodded to myself in the back of the cab while responding to the Russian.

  “Yeah, let him go, but kick the shit out of him before you do it.”

  Although I couldn’t see the Russian’s wide, enthusiastic smile, I pictured it perfectly in my head. He would be more than happy to put a hurt on Talbot.

  “You got it, Frank.”

  The call ended and I looked up to see the cab driver glancing nervously back at me from the rear view mirror. He was dark skinned, with thinning grey hair, likely Pakistani, and his now wide eyes continued to glance back at me as the cab made its way toward my apartment.

  “Hey buddy, how about some music back here? And not any of that regular cab music shit you guys play. It’s been one hell of a few days.”

  The driver’s fingers scrambled nervously over the stereo controls. I sm
iled and shook my head in disbelief as the sound of Sinatra singing of Bonita filled the cab’s interior, while outside, it started to snow.