by Dana Donovan
He shook his head. “I’m o...k.kay.”
I looked up in the corner by the door and spotted the red light on the camera blinking. Carlos’ eyes followed. “Benny, yesterday you told me that you were like Leona. Do you remember saying that?”
“Y..yes.”
“Did you mean that you can travel out-of-body? You can bilocate?”
“W..what?”
“Bilocate. That’s what that’s called, isn’t it? When your subconscious self leaves your body.”
“Oh, then, y..yes, I can b..b..bilocate.”
“You’re certain?”
“Ah-huh.”
“Where, Benny? Where do you go when you bilocate?”
He smiled, and his eyes rolled up toward the ceiling. “All over.”
“Do you see people?”
“Yes, I see people. I talk to people from all over, and they talk to me, too.”
I fell back in my chair, my eyes blinking, my mouth unhinged. I turned at Carlos. He hadn’t missed it either. I looked back at Benny, his eyes still searching the ceiling.
“What did you just say?”
He articulated. “I can go all around the world and meet all sorts of people. They tell me stories and jokes and make me laugh.”
I gave Carlos another high brow, almost afraid to take my eyes off Benny. Carlos straightened up in his seat, and I know we both stole a glance at the camera again to make sure the red light was still blinking.
“Benny. How come you’re not stuttering anymore?”
His eyes darted to mine, blinked a couple of times and then fell into a sleepy-looking droop. “W..What?”
I held my finger to him. “Can you give us a moment?” I stood and gave Carlos a tug on his sleeve. “We need to chat in private for a second.”
Out in the hall, Carlos latched onto my arm and nearly yanked it out of its socket. “What the hell was that?”
“You’re asking me?” I said. “What do I look like, Sigmund freaking Freud?”
“He’s faking his stutter!”
“No, I don’t think so. I think he’s got dual personalities. Did you notice the look in his eyes, how it changed when he came back to me?”
“Yeah, and he jumped a little, like he awoke from a sleep in a startle.”
I pointed to the other room. “Go in there and make sure Spinelli doesn’t turn off that camera for a second. Got it?”
“Yes.”
“And then get on the phone and see if you can reach Ricardo Rivera. I think he should get down here and—”
“Benjamin already tried calling his brother. His phone went to the answering service.”
“Didn’t he want to call anyone else?”
“He said he didn’t.”
“Fine, then, just make sure Spinelli has that camera rolling.”
“Got it.”
He started away.
“Oh, and Carlos? Have Spinelli see what he can find out about what happened down at the train station. I want to know about eyewitnesses, if Carol traveled alone…stuff like that.”
Carlos gave me the thumbs up before joining Spinelli in the observation room. I went back into interrogation and took a seat across from Ben Rivera. He seemed fidgety again, but happy that I returned without Carlos. I started in where we left off.
“Benny, a little while ago you were telling us that you can go places out-of-body. Is that what you did when you went to see those women?”
“W..what wo..women?
“Karen, Bridget and Anna. You remember going to see them, don’t you?”
He looked at me, confused.
“Before they died,” I said. “You traveled out-of-body to see them just before they died.”
Still confused, he shook his head. “No I d..d.didn’t.”
“Yes, you did. You went there through bilocation. You entered into their bodies and you forced them to commit suicide.”
“No!”
“Yes. You told Detective Spinelli that much already, back in the restaurant. You told him you forced those women to kill themselves.”
“No! I d..d.didn’t!”
I stood up and slammed the heel of my fist on the table. “You told us just moments ago that you can bilocate and that you go anyplace in the world you want.”
“But I d..d.don’t…”
“That’s how you got to the train station this afternoon and killed Carol Kessler. You got into her body and made her walk off the platform right into the path of that train. Then you hurried to the coffee shop and—”
“Stop it this minute!” he shouted. He leaned across the table on his elbows. “Can’t you see this boy has no idea what you’re talking about?”
I fell back in my chair. “Benjamin?”
He palmed the table’s edge and shoved it towards me. “I’m sick and tired of people kicking that kid around like he’s some mangy old dog. Do you understand me?”
“Who are you?”
“Leo,” he said, and he eased back into his chair, folding his arms at his chest.
“No, you’re not. You’re Benjamin.”
“I’m Benny’s better half.”
“You mean alter personality.”
He smirked. “Still, you don’t think I’m the better of his two halves?”
“Is that all he has is two?”
He shrugged. “As far as I know, but sometimes I think there’s a little girl trapped inside him as well.”
I looked up at the camera and back at Leo.
“Don’t worry. It’s still on,” he said. “Your buddies aren’t going to miss anything.”
“I’m not worried about them. I’m worried about you.”
“Oh, right. I suppose you’re going to give that video to some shrink.”
“You don’t think I should?”
“It don’t matter to me. I don’t need no help.”
“What about Benny?”
“What about him?”
“Maybe he could use the help.”
He laughed. “Save it, Dick. Benny’s as good as dead. Soon I’ll be out all the time and he’ll just be a puny memory. Has anybody got a smoke?”
“You smoke?”
“Marlboro, if ya got it.”
I motioned with a tic of my finger toward the observation window. “We’ll see what we can do, Leo.”
“Ya, right.”
“So what’s next? After you bury Benjamin, who will you kill after that?”
“What makes you think I want to kill anyone?”
“You killed four women already, maybe more.”
“Screw you! I didn’t kill anyone.”
“Detective Spinelli said—”
“Spinelli is a putz.”
“He said he got a confession out of Benny at the Percolator.”
“A confession—please. Ask him what Benny really said.”
“I don’t think I need—”
“Ask him. Go on, get him in here!” He turned to the window and whistled loudly. “Spinelli! Get in here, ya putz!”
I looked to the glass and nodded okay. When Spinelli entered, I asked him, “Detective, what exactly did Benjamin say to you at the Percolator this afternoon?”
Spinelli shrugged. “Well,” he pointed at Leo, “I asked him what he did to those women, and he said he made it better for them.”
“That’s it?”
“Yeah.”
“That was his confession?”
“It sounded like one to me.”
“Did you make it clear to him what women you were talking about?”
“No, but he knew.”
I shook my head. “Spinelli, Benjamin is a janitor at the coffee shop. He cleans the cafeteria and makes it better for the women that waitress there.”
“What about his bilocating?”
Leo scoffed. “OBE?”
“Yes.”
“Ha! Benny can’t do that.”
“But he said—”
“He’s an idiot! What can I tell you? The guy doesn’t kno
w the difference between a simple dream and a bona fide paranormal out-of-body experience.”
“So, he definitely can’t bilocate?”
“Of course not.”
“But if you know that, why doesn’t he know that?”
“I told you. He’s an idiot. Is it any wonder I’m winning the battle for total control over his mental faculties?”
“Tell me about Leona.”
“Leona. Whoa, now there’s a hot chick. I’m gonna have fun working Benny’s little weenie into those lacy undies. Which reminds me, where’s that cigarette?”
“You little creep!” I said, and I started across the table when Spinelli grabbed me by the shoulders.
“Detective Marcella!” he pushed me back into my seat. “Don’t! It’s not worth it. He’s only trying to rile you.”
Leo pushed against the back of his chair so hard it came up on two legs and nearly went over. I could see I scared him, and although I wanted to do more than that, I figured Spinelli was right. He wasn’t worth it. I eased back into my seat, mindful that the camera was still on and thankful for Spinelli’s intervention. Leo let his chair come forward again, smirking the whole time like he got something over on me.
“You’re a tough guy,” I said, “ain’t you?”
He hemmed a bit. “Chicks dig tough guys.”
“You think Leona digs tough guys?”
“No. That’s why I let Benny put all the moves on her. Then, when the time is right, the lights are low and he’s ready to go in for the big pay out, it’s bye-bye stutter boy, hello handsome.”
“It won’t go down like that. Leona’s not that kind of girl.”
“They’re all that kind of girl, Detective. They just don’t all know it yet.”
“I know. And I’m going to save you a little time with some advice, and you’d better listen.”
“Advice from an old man? I don’t think so.”
“Oh, I do.” I leaned in on my elbows, way across the table until my face and his were only inches apart. Then, in a whisper that I knew the camera’s audio could not pick up, I said, “If you so much as look at Leona again, you or Benny or any other freak you’re hiding in there, I’ll kill you. Understand?”
I settled back into my chair and smiled at him. At first his expression seemed frozen, a mix of shock and fear. Then his macho ego took over and washed his face in arrogance. “Fine,” he said, rocking back in his chair. “I don’t need that frigid bitch anyway. There’s plenty of other fish in the sea.”
“You mean at HP&P.”
“Maybe.”
“Like who? Courtney?”
“Sure. I could have her if I want. I had Anna Davalos. Why not her?”
“You and Anna Davalos?”
“You’re surprised?”
“When did you last see Anna?”
“You mean alive?”
“Of course. Why, have you seen her dead?”
“Well, I don’t know,” he said, and he laughed pathetically. “The way she lays there when you’re balling her, it’s hard to tell.”
“Ever do it with Bridget Dean?”
“Bridget? Oh sure, once or twice a week.”
“How about Karen Webber?”
“Yeah, Karen was a little crazy, liked it through the back door if you know what I mean.”
“You’re sick, you know that?”
“Sick, lucky. It’s all in the way you look at it.”
“No. There’s no other way to look at it. You’re sick and you’re a liar. There’s no way Karen Webber would ever have sex with you. And I’m sure Bridget Dean and Anna Davalos had better taste in men as well.”
I started going off on a righteous lecture about decency and morality when, thank heavens, Carlos came through the door about as excited as I had ever seen him.
“Tony! Tony! You won’t believe this!” I saw he had a copy of a police report in his hand. I excused myself and took the conversation out into the hallway.
“Whadaya got?”
“I have a preliminary list of names here of the people standing closest to Carol Kessler when she killed herself. So far, all of them gave a statement to the same effect that Carol deliberately and without assist stepped off the platform in front of that train.”
“All right,” I said. “I think we expected to find out as much.”
“But wait, that’s not all. You have to look at the names on the list.” He handed it to me. “About halfway down,” he said. “Take a look at the name below John and Arleen Padilla.”
I took the list and skipped immediately to the name that had Carlos so damn excited. “Gregory Piakowski?” I said. “I don’t believe it.” I returned to the investigation room and confronted Leo with the list. “Do you know anything about this, Leo?”
He looked at me strangely. “Who is L..L.Leo?”
I considered the possibility that Benjamin was either one hell of a liar or seriously messed up, or both. Regardless, I had no legal cause to hold him any longer. I turned to Spinelli and told him, “Give Benny a ride home.” To Carlos I said, “Do we know where to find Piakowski now?”
He shook his head. “That’s anyone’s guess. After taking statements, the police let people walk away from the scene. He could have gotten into a taxi or simply hopped a bus somewhere.”
“All right, then. Spinelli, after you give Benjamin a ride, I want you to go to the Hartman, Pierce and Petruzelli building and reexamine their surveillance equipment. Find out if anyone could have manipulated the video to make it look like Bridget Dean worked alone the night she died.”
“I did that,” he said.
“Then, do it again. I don’t know why, but the stink of guilt keeps pointing back to Piakowski at every turn. If he was in that building when her gun went off, then I want to know about it.”
“Got it.” He punctuated the air with his fingertip before going to Benjamin and helping him to his feet.
I turned to Carlos. “You go back to Anna Davalos’ apartment and sift through it with a fine tooth comb. If Piakowski found a way into her apartment through some other means, then I want you to find it.”
“What about you?”
“I’m going back to Karen’s place. Piakowski said that he and Karen had a date Friday night, which tells me he’s probably been in her apartment before. I’m betting there’s a way in and out of there that doesn’t involve going through the front door or going over the balcony. In the meantime, we have enough probable cause to haul Piakowski in for questioning. Get dispatch to put out an APB on him. If anyone finds anything, call it in. I want everybody in the loop on this one. Any questions?”
“Just one.”
I looked Carlos in the eye with a squint. “I hope this isn’t about eating.”
“Oh,” he said, and his face grew long. “Then, never mind.”
Ten
I got the building super to let me in to Karen Webber’s apartment. No one had been there since Carlos and I stopped by the day before, but already I thought the place was beginning to get that rummaged through look. The first thing I did was walk out onto the balcony and look over the railing. Four stories up seemed a lot higher when you imagine yourself falling from such a height. I saw some young boys gathered out in the street. It was getting dark, but the net they set up under the streetlight made me think they intended on playing street hockey there all night. One of the boys spotted me and hollered up that he would give me a dollar if I jumped. I swung my leg over the railing and they all began howling like Indians. So much for sensitivity, I thought.
I came into the apartment and started really looking around. I didn’t know what I was looking for, other than another possible way in or out. I guess I hoped to find something that might support Gregory Piakowski’s claim that he and Karen were dating. I wanted to believe he started on a path of straight and narrow. I think if Karen knew of his past, she would have had to believe he rehabilitated. On the other hand, finding anything to support Piakowski’s innocence meant I was barki
ng up the wrong tree and that perhaps Karen did commit suicide after all, something I don’t think I could ever have come to grips with.
Off in the corner, opposite the kitchen was a sofa with a pull out bed. Being that there were no other rooms in the apartment, I assumed that was where Karen slept. I pulled the bed out, and right away noticed something odd. All the corners of the spread were neatly tucked in, but one. I pulled back the spread and the sheet and found a USB storage device for a computer. I looked around and confirmed that Karen had no computer in her apartment. She did, however, have access to several at work. It seemed reasonable to assume that if she’d been working on an unassigned case, she would only want to store documents, pictures or whatever on a removable drive that no one at work could access. I pocketed the device and continued looking.
When Carlos and I were there the day before, I noticed a small closet by the front door. Neither of us bothered to look inside it, if for no other reason than because we expected the investigating officers already did so. Still, what they were looking for then, differed from what I hoped to find now. I opened the closet door and stuck my head inside. The first thing I noticed was the smell: nice, I mean. Karen owned some very fine leather jackets and a pair of leather cowboy boots that would have kicked up a storm on a rowdy night of line dancing. I thumbed through the pockets of her jackets, shook out her boots and felt along the top shelf above the hangers. Nothing seemed out of place or unusual. I almost closed it up again when I noticed something. Above all the boxes piled high on the shelf, was a door or access cover, I guessed to an attic. I pushed on it to reveal a crawlspace up among the ceiling trusses. I phoned Carlos at once. He was working Anna Davalos’ apartment and told me that he was about to give up hope of finding anything significant.
“You found nothing at all?” I said.
“Nothing that’s not already in the report. It’s an old building, Tony, with no way in or out except for through the front door.”
“Listen to me, Carlos. Is Anna’s apartment on the top floor of her building?”
“Yeah, but it’s only three flights up.”
“That’s not the point. Do you see anything on the ceilings that looks like an access panel to the attic?”
“I don’t know. I—”