Birdsongs (22 page)

Chapter 73

   Benny found Red asleep in the garden between the plants. At first Benny thought he was dead but he jumped with one of those dreams in which the dreamer is falling. Red dreamt he was falling off the back of his father’s truck as he left for town without him. One of Red’s only previous goals in life was to acquire as many cassettes as he could in town and this was a nightmare for him as the possibility of adding more tapes to his collection slipped away.

   The dream was ironic as Benny stood over him with a gift bag full of tapes from Ned. His shadow casting over Red stirred him from his slumber and Red opened his eyes sleepily looking up at Benny.

   “Hey Bendy,” Red goggled.

   “What the hell are you doing?” Benny asked.

   “Plants need friends and get fast big.”

   “OK,” Benny said feeling stoned. “Can we go inside and talk?”

   “Sure Bendy,” Red said rising from the dirt.

   As they sat, Jezebel jumped into Red’s lap. Benny shook his head, as it was still odd for him to see his cat, who never let him pet her, act so friendly with Red. Red noticed Benny’s bewilderment and commented, “She doesn’t like you.”

   “That’s obvious. Why?”

   “She said you not ever come here much.”

   “She said that, huh?”

    “Bendy,” Red said seriously. “Plant and animal talk with not words.”

   “Oh,” Benny answered. Changing the subject he said, “I found your real parents.”

   “Mama and papa dead.”

   “I know those parents are but these are your biological parents. The parents who you were born to,” Benny tried.

   “Red only has one mama and papa.”

   The newspaper article was on the coffee table and Benny picked it up and pointed to the picture of the couple crying in the back of the car leaving the hospital from which he was kidnapped. “I found them. Your mama gave this to you because she wanted you to find them.”

   “That lady and man be sad.”

   “Yes, they were very sad and they probably still are because they lost you. They deserve to know what happened to you. Your mama gave this newspaper to you because she wanted you to find them.”

   “No.”

   “What do you mean no?”

   “Mama not want me to find them,” Red said pointing at the picture. “Mama want me to find
you
,” he said pointing at Benny.

   Benny was taken aback. “Me?”

   “Yeah, Bendy need my help to finding bad man and growing plants. Red help Bendy doing both. Mama happy.”

   “Oh,” Benny said thinking. “Do you want to meet these people?”

   “No.”

   “What do you want?”

   “Red want stay here with plants and you little zebra,” he said looking down at Jezebel and scratching her ears with both hands.

   “All right Red. I want you to think about this a few days and decide if that’s what you really want. These are your real parents,” Benny tried one more time.

   “Red decide—no they not.”

Chapter 74

   Benny enlisted Rachael’s help to confront Bobby Baker. She pretended to be doing a story on him, the rising Georgia politician, during her downtime during the murder case. Bobby of course knew who she was and he was thrilled to invite her into his office, excited with the possibility of national coverage. Rachael introduced Benny as her cameraman and he stood to the side with a camera sans film. In case Bobby happened to see him on television with Rachael he wore an Aussie bush hat and an Izod with the collar up. When Rachael laughed at Benny’s disguise and questioned him about the current decade, Benny, hiding a smile, informed her that Izod was still very popular in Europe and his hat was of the Jacaru Kangaroo style. Very expensive and sought after by collectors he assured her.

   She began by asking for Bobby’s permission to audibly record the conversation. He agreed and Rachael mashed a button on her digital device. She made up a few questions on the spot and acted as though she listened with interest to his long-winded verbal pats on his own back. Having loosened him up, she attacked.

   “I remember,” Rachael began, “when I was in school working towards my journalism degree, we studied the heavy coverage the Baker baby received and how it pulled the country’s interests to media outlets, especially the daily papers. I remember it boosting sales and ad revenues for longer than most big stories.”

   “Yes, that was quite a story and a trying time for my poor brother,” Bobby replied stone-faced. He had no idea how his life was about to change with his erroneous answers and threats stemming from Rachael’s next set of questions.

   “One of the people I have come in contact with during my investigation of the Tilley murders is a man named Benny James. Are you familiar with that name?”

   “Yes,” Bobby answered although he wanted to lie. He felt that the percentage was pretty high she already knew the answer to the question before she asked it.

   “Did you happen to see my interview with him the other night?” Rachael asked.

   “No, I am sorry I missed it. I haven’t been able to watch a whole lot of television with the campaign gaining steam. I seem to be busy, pretty much around the clock lately. I have seen your show before. You do nice work. I would hate to be on your bad side.”

   Both Benny and Rachael held back the laughter wanting to explode from within each of their bellies. With this said, Benny relaxed and folded the collar of his shirt down where his chin and lower cheek bones were previously hiding.

   “After the interview I had an opportunity to have dinner with Mr. James,” she said. “We were talking about some of his other cases…”

   “Wait,” Bobby interrupted. He started to sense the onslaught and wanted to derail Rachael before it began. “What does this have to do with my campaign? I thought this interview was about a piece you were doing about my campaign. This line of questioning has nothing to do with that.”

   Just for the hell of it, for some reason wanting to torture the flailing Bobby Baker, Benny held the camera to his face and pretended to snap a couple photos of his anger.

   “Put that goddamned camera away,” Bobby querulously demanded.

   “I assure you,” Rachael interjected, “This has quite a bit to do with your campaign.” Rachael cut her eyes at Benny signaling her readiness for him to intervene.

   “In what way?” Bobby questioned, still fuming.

   Benny decided it was time for him to step in. Rachael did her part getting him in the door and now it was time for him to close the deal. “The main issue in many campaigns has to do with character,” Benny said as he stepped out of the background and in front of Rachael. “Benny James,” he said with the beginning of a bow. He didn’t even bother extending his hand to shake knowing Bobby probably was not in the mood at this point for a gentleman’s greeting.

   “This is bullshit,” Bobby said standing up, shaking his finger at Benny and Rachael. “I’ll have both of your asses. You tricked me Ms. Martin,” he said sticking the finger in Rachael’s face. “And you,” Bobby said turning it on Benny, “I don’t know who the hell you think you are or where you think you’re going with this, but I sent you a letter with the test results, if this is what this whole charade is about. And the letter states, if you forgot, the test results were negative. That boy, that freaking retard, or whoever he is, is not my brother’s son. So stop trying to make something out of nothing to save your miserable failed career. And you, Ms. Martin can take your sleazy, muckraking journalistic sham of an investigation and stick it up your…”

   “Sit down,” Benny commanded. Benny was furious. When Bobby did not he grabbed his necktie and pulled him across the desk so the two men were face to face. Benny’s grip was choking Bobby and his eyes glazed with fear as Benny guided him forcefully, pulling down on his tie and settling him into his chair. Bobby started to speak and Benny flinched as though he was coming around the desk for him. “Shut your goddamned mouth and listen.” Benny turned to Rachael. “I think you can turn off the recorder now. I think we have all the sound bites we need.” Bobby’s eyes once again grew with dread as he had forgotten about the recording device. Rachael switched it off. “Now,” Benny said calmly. “Ms. Martin and I are going to have a seat and I am going to give you a set of options, just like I gave Peter Banks earlier.” Bobby swallowed hard at the mention of Peter’s name. Benny suddenly remembered promising Peter he would try to keep his name out of the discussion. Oh well, he thought. “I believe a man should have choices,” Benny said toying with him. “My client, Red Jasper, or for the sake of today’s argument we can call him William James Baker. His desires give me the ability to offer you two options. I think you are going to like the second of these two scenarios.” Benny pulled a piece of paper out of his back pocket and slowly unfolded it for effect. It was a copy of the paternity test results that Peter Banks had hesitantly given to him. Benny laid the document in front of Bobby. “Choice number one,” Benny said as he paused long enough for Bobby to scan the paper laid before him. “I turn the original documentation over to Ms. Martin. She, along with the very compelling audio we recorded today, takes the two elements and puts them together to create a riveting piece of, what did you call it? ‘Muckraking journalism?’ Sounds like the perfect recipe for a campaign disaster to me.”

    “You’re a real son of a bitch,” Bobby seethed.

    “That’s funny. I think that is the same thing Peter Banks said. No,” Benny said correcting himself. “No, I think he called me a prick. Maybe it was an asshole. Nevertheless, let me preface choice number two by declaring this is not blackmail in case you begin to feel that way. Blackmail is a threat and I in no way want you to feel threatened since you do have choices here.”

    “Get on with it Mr. James. I have a feeling, despite your semantics, that I am still going to feel blackmailed.”

    “You may be right,” Benny replied. “We are in a bit of a grey area here. Anyway, choice number two. My client has expressed he does not necessarily desire to be reunited with his biological mother and father. He has stated that in his mind the pair who kidnapped him are the only mother and father he wishes to ever know.”

    Bobby took a breath and sunk down in his chair as his shoulders relaxed.

    “I have taken a real liking to the boy but I am in no position to support him financially. Right now he is staying at my house which I believe he has become quite fond of. It just so happens I have another place where I spend the majority of my time. I have been meaning to officially call it home for some time. I would be willing to sell the house to Red, or excuse me, William James Baker, and officially call my other residence home if it will bring closure to this issue.”

    “How much do you want for it?” Bobby sneered.

    “Market value,” Benny answered. “This isn’t highway robbery; I’m a fair man. Two hundred thousand dollars for the house. He is also going to need a monthly allowance. The kid will need to eat and pay utility bills you know.”

    “If I agree to this, what happens to the original documents and the information you two know?”

    “The document will go into a safe deposit box in case the monthly payments stop, and Ms. Martin and I will forget this situation ever arose.”

    “How about this,” Bobby countered. “I give you a lump sum, say five hundred thousand dollars, and you give me the document and I never see or hear of you again?”

    “Deal.”

Chapter 75

   There was a knock at R.C.’s motel room door. It was Benny.

    “How you doing?” Benny asked with a slice of Sicilian embedded in his intonation.

    R.C. nodded his hello, holding the feather chest-high with a clinched fist. When he realized what he was doing, he casually dropped his hand, bringing it to a retreat behind his back. He thought he had the man whose name he had yet to learn fooled.

    “After I ask you your name,” Benny began, “I am going to ask you why you are holding a feather behind your back. Please don’t tell me you don’t have one.” Benny paused as R.C. held a frozen pose. “So—what’s your name kid?”

    Benny loved this approach. He was about the same age as R.C. but he found it sometimes effective to play the role of a father who was scolding his son. Benny knew it made some personality types sweat. R.C. beaded up.

    “Kent,” R.C. said. “Name’s Kent.”

    “The desk jockey with the shitty coffee told me you call yourself R.C.?” Benny stared. “What’s with the Clark Kent bullshit? Are you using different names to hide anything in particular Chief Hidden Feather?”

    “Who are you?” R.C. asked. “You only seem vaguely like a cop.”

    “I only vaguely am.”

    “Why don’t you come inside—I have nothing to hide,” R.C. said.

    There was a round table nearly falling apart near the draped window accompanied by two rickety and well-abused chairs. The two men sat.

    “Do you happen to know the current events of this town?”

    “I do.”

    “So you understand why I am concerned that you are a stranger in Tilley using fake names and holding a bird feather?”

    “It doesn’t look good does it?”

    “No—it doesn’t.”

    “Would you believe me if I told you it was a long, long story?”

    “I will believe you for a few minutes,” Benny promised. “That is, until I have a reason not to.”

    “OK.”

    R.C. told Benny two sentences about his childhood. The detailed revelations that followed dealt with his crisis in Vietnam. R.C. told Benny about Miles, the guns, the betrayal, and Myra. Benny held his cards close to the vest so to speak concealing the information Ned previously uncovered. The name Miles was new information. Benny asked for his last name and R.C. told him, thinking he would be unable to find him with the name change, and even if he did it would be too late; he would be dead.

    R.C. held up the feather and waved it in Benny’s face. “When he killed Myra—he wrote ‘Birdsongs’ on the wall. He’s fucking with me!” R.C. entered into the beginning stages of working himself into a rant.