The Mystery of Jessica Benson (22 page)

K
aren was in luck. She found a parking space right in front of
Bagels & Co. Frank wasn’t there yet, so she followed his
instructions and went all the way to the back and took a booth.
The warm, toasty aroma of brewing coffee assailed her senses
and calmed her frayed nerves.
Talk about your basic caffeine
addict
, she thought. A small, handsome café au lait —
I’m even
thinking colors in coffee!
— man was at her table in no time with
a menu and a cup of brew. In a slight Jamaican accent he offered
as he poured, “You are looking like some coffee could help you,
yes?”

Karen, wanting to hug him, simply smiled back. “I’m
meeting someone here and I’m sure he’ll want a menu and
coffee too. He should be here any minute. And, um, we’re going
to be in a hurry.”

“That is not to be a problem. I will bring a menu and
coffee as soon as I see the gentleman has come to your table. I
will tell Michelle, who is your waitress, you must order quickly
and have no time to eat. Is good?”

Frank Garcia suddenly showed, looking grim. He said
“Hello Roger,” to the man as he scurried away, and looked at
Karen. “We gotta talk,” he said, as he slid into the booth across
from Karen.

The waitress showed up immediately and bent to give
Garcia a quick hug. “Detective! Is good to see you. It has been
such a long time, but I know you are in a big hurry today. No
time to talk gossip. So something special for you to eat?”

“Sure, Michelle, thanks. How about a poppy seed bagel
with cream cheese, huh?”
“And for you, Miss? Anything for you to eat with your
coffee?
Karen shook her head, and said, “Coffee’s fine, thanks!”
Frank grimaced. “Karen, I...”
“What the hell is going on, Frank? Where’s Will, and
what’s so hush-hush that we couldn’t talk at the station?”
“Karen, please shut up. Let me talk and you’ll
understand. This is hard enough without you reading me the riot
act, okay?”
“I’m sorry. It’s just that this case has me jumping out of
my skin. Chasing our tails like we have, it’s too bizarre.”
“You got that right. But what I have to tell you now is
really going to blow your mind. I, uh, Jesus, I don’t know where
to start.”
Michelle came over and put Garcia’s coffee on the table,
and he took a big sip. “Ouch. Hot.”
“Sorry, just brewed!” Michelle winced as she headed
back to the counter.
“Karen, you know the only definitive prints I got from
the gun at Feyzi Batan’s were his own. Other than that, it was
wiped pretty clean. But not completely. The shooter must have
been in a real hurry, because he left a couple of smudged partials
which were definitely not Batan’s. So I got to thinking about it
and decided to call my buddy at Quantico again. I figured maybe
I’d send him the latents from the gun and have him run them
through for me. Maybe see if A.I.F.I.S could work a little more
magic for us. The short of it is that we got a match, but I don’t
know what the fuck to do with it.”
Karen wiped an imaginary crumb from the table. “Frank,
you’re scaring me. Tell me where you’re going with this? Was it
Sands?”
He took a deep breath and let it slowly out. “Sands? I
wish it were that easy. Hell no! They were Will’s. Goddammit,
this is crazy, Karen. This is goddamn crazy, but they were
Will’s.”
“Come on Frank, what kind of a game are you playing.
Will wasn’t anywhere around Feyzi that day. He had specifically
asked for
me
to come
without Will
. Will never even saw the gun
until after I called him to the scene. Now that you’ve had your
little joke, tell me, were they Fraga’s? That’d fit.”
“I know the chain of evidence, Karen. I know every
fucking step of this investigation. But Garrison confirmed it. He
told me there was no question about it. They are definitely
Will’s. Are you starting to see why I had to meet with you
outside the squad room,
away
from the station?”
Karen scrutinized Frank’s intense face.
Frank continued, “I’ve known Will for so many years.
For God’s sake, he was my mentor, and I don’t want to believe
some of the really nasty crap running around in my brain.
She leaned forward, “What all have you got? If you can
tie him to Batan’s murder, then the only logical sequence would
be that it started with Jessica Benson. But I’m sure he didn’t
even know her.”
Frank put his palms face down on the table and said,
“Look, Karen, for months before this happened Will had been
bitching to me about problems he was having with some bimbo
he’d been seeing. So when this case breaks, I figure, you know,
classic Will, throws himself into an investigation to take his
mind off his personal troubles. So maybe he was a little more of
an asshole than usual on this one, but shit, he’s human, right? I
never gave it a second thought, really.
“Then he starts talking shit around the squad room about
you and Kyle Sands, and he’s never said a bad word about you,
ever
. He didn’t miss a chance to make a dig. And you two
fighting constantly, I knew something was wrong. I almost
thought for a minute there that
you
were the bimbo — uh, sorry,
Kar — and the two of you were having trouble getting past an
affair.”
“Stop it! Listen to yourself, Frank. Do you even know
what you’re saying here? You’re talking about
Will
. Sure, he’s
been a real asshole lately, but murder? There’s obviously got to
be another explanation. Fingerprints aren’t always conclusive,
especially partials. In fact, I was reading an article in the
New
Yorker
just last week. There are more glitches with the
fingerprint process than anyone could have imagined. They now
have experts on experts that check them out after the computers
have declared a match. And even then, the feebs say the results
are often iffy.”
Frank nodded. “I hear you, but I was clear with Sam, my
friend at Quantico, that this was a rough case. He knew what was
involved, the publicity and all. He had his top experts up there on
it, and they all confirmed. What do you think, when a cop’s
prints come down on a murder weapon they’re not going to take
extra precautions and run ‘em ‘til they’re damn sure before they
give the results? This is making me nuts, Karen. That’s why I
came to you. You were right when you said he was stuck on
Sands for the killer, and I’m not gonna try to tell you any
different. I thought he looked good for it myself. But this case
has more layers than a fudge cake. Think about it. If Will’s got
something to do with the Benson murder, the best way to close it
out is to find a patsy. And the Batan murder. We know they’re
connected.”
Karen started to say something and then caught her
upper lip with her teeth and just shook her head. A stab of guilt
shot through her. She had been the poster child for bad form in
this investigation, and now it was about Will. She felt much like
Alice must have when she fell down the rabbit hole.
Surely
, she
thought,
when the psychedelic adventures end, everything will be
normal again.
“Karen, are you listening to me or what? We can’t just
ignore the evidence and pretend this never happened. It all fits.
Will was having big problems with the broad he was seeing. You
must’ve known about it.”
“No, I really didn’t. Will never talked about that stuff
with me except right after he split from his wife, and that was
years ago.”
“Oh yeah, I remember. There were rumors that he had a
thing for you at the time.”
“Don’t go there, Frank.”
“Yeah,” he reached over and gave her arm a big squeeze.
“Sorry. Anyways, I knew a little about what was going on with
him and the whatchamacallit,
girlfriend
he was running around
with. She was cheating on him and he was real pissed.”
“So,” Karen said. “He went out and killed her like any
self-respecting officer of the law would do, huh?”
“Maybe. At least think about it. Admit the possibility
exists.”
Karen closed her eyes, trying to shut the moment out,
then, shaking her head, “I do
not
believe we’re having this
conversation. I swear, everyone’s gone weird. It’s all so surreal.”
“I hear you, honey. Will and I go back some, as well.
This isn’t any easier for me than it is for you. Hell, I’ve got all
the evidence in black and white and I’m having trouble believing
it’s possible that Will could be our man.”
Karen rubbed her temples with her thumb and forefinger
for a quiet minute, and then looked over at Garcia and said, “I
need some more coffee. Maybe it’ll help with this headache.”
“Yeah, more coffee. Sounds good. Uh, you buying?”
Good old Frank
, she thought.
The sky is falling and he’s
worried about who’s paying.
“Yeah, I’m buying.”
As though she had ESP, Michelle showed up at the table
with the coffee pot and her warm smile. As she was filling the
cups, Karen asked if she had the table bugged, because they had
just that second said how much they wanted more coffee. The
waitress laughed and said, “No, I’m just Israeli and a waitress.
We need to know these things to survive. Here’s your check as
well.” She turned to Frank, and said, “Frank,
tatala
, come back
another time when you’re not in such a rush. I want you should
tell me about the case with the big football player, Kyle Sands.
He comes here all the time. Such a nice
boychick
. I never saw a
nasty look on his face or heard an unkind word from his mouth. I
would bet everything I have that he had nothing to do with
killing that girl.
Oy vey
. I don’t like to say bad about the dead,
but she was a real looker!”
“That’s not bad,” Karen said. “I like it when people say
I’m good looking.”
“No, sweetie, I don’t say she
looks
good, I say, she’s a
looker
. I’m meaning, all the time she’s looking to see if there’s
other men out there looking back at her. She could as well been
wearing a sign that announced ‘
available.
’ You understand my
meaning? Kyle was such a good person. He used to take his
mother to breakfast, lunch, snack, just to spend time with her.
You don’t see that so much anymore.”
“Well, Michelle, you ought to be sure he has your name
in case he needs character witnesses. Coming from you, he
sounds like a saint,” Frank chuckled, and watched as she turned
and went to another table where people had just been seated. He
then looked over at Karen, who was rubbing her temples and
looked close to tears.
“Oh, man, I came at you with this out of nowhere, I
know,” Frank said. “Let’s take it slow, because we have a lot of
pieces to fill in here. I don’t know where Batan fits in, either.
Maybe he saw or heard something that made him dangerous to
Will. And as far as Fraga, is he involved in the murders or is he
just a perverted drug pusher who was at the wrong place at the
wrong time?”
“I don’t know,” Karen answered. “Maybe there’s a
reasonable explanation that we’re not seeing. Like, maybe Will
accidentally touched the gun after we picked it up. Isn’t there a
chance it could be something simple like that?”
“I don’t see it. Follow me step by step here. The first
murder. Okay, she’s with Sands, they fight. That we, and
everyone in town, knows. Sands says when he left her she was
still yelling. Nobody paid attention to her because she had a rep
as a partier with a big mouth, right? Oh, and everyone’s got a
tight alibi for that night but the football hero, and he’s not stupid.
So it stands to reason if he did her, he’d have had an airtight
alibi, or at least wouldn’t have set it up to make himself the chief
suspect from the get-go. Too pat. We got more head cases
running around in this investigation, it’s just a matter of which
nut did it.”
Karen reluctantly nodded. “My question is still how did
Will’s prints get on the gun? He wasn’t there before Batan died.
In fact, he was with me ‘til an hour or so before I got the urgent
call from the kid.”
“An hour’s a long time and Miami Beach is a small
place.”
“C’mon Frank. Maybe Will took his gloves off for a
second, a little break in procedure on the scene. He figures no
harm, no foul, and lets it go without saying anything.”
“Sounds good, but you know as well as I do that Will
would no more take his gloves off at a crime scene than he’d...”
“Murder someone?” she broke in.
“Yeah, murder someone, Karen.”
She winced. “So how could he have gotten the gun? I
mean, how could he have even known the gun was there for the
getting? It doesn’t work here.”
“The big question is how he got the gun. We know he
was having a problem with, well, say for the sake of argument,
Jessica Benson. She was playing around with how many guys?
Maybe he heard about the girls as well. She’s notorious about
teasing one with the other, so maybe he got word of it. That’s
gotta be salt in his wounds.
“Will’s always had a taste for fast women. Maybe he got
in too deep with this one, she dumps him, and we all know about
Will’s temper. But he’s smart. He bides his time. Keeps an eye
on her and waits for the right opportunity. Bam! He knows the
QB got all riled up at that party...”
Karen cut him off. “Hold up here. Listen to what you’re
saying. First you talk about Will’s violent temper and then
you’re saying he’s a patient stalker. Which is it?”
“It doesn’t matter. If he’s behind this, he’s crazy and
wouldn’t necessarily follow a pattern. Maybe he’s got the temper
of a criminal, but the patience of a cop. The two are not
necessarily mutually exclusive. Like I said, he gets pissed, waits
‘til the time is right and does her. Fraga talked about a phantom
lover, didn’t he?”
“This is ridiculous. Unacceptable. Let’s just put it to rest
and stop it now,” she argued.
But in Karen’s mind the picture was starting to come
together. Will hadn’t been himself. Garcia was making a good
case against him. And the fingerprints. The knot in her stomach
made it difficult to catch her breath. “God, I hate what we’re
saying.”
“Yeah, but it all fits. I know the gun is a big question,
but it’s not so out there. You know, he could’ve tossed the
doctor’s office as well. Voila, gun!”
“Yeah,” Karen responded. “And you think he was going
through Fraga’s office for what reason? The doctor had
something that Will wanted or needed, so he would risk his
career to find it? Oh right, silly me! He needed the gun to kill
Feyzi Batan. Because, why? He was jealous? Jessica was already
dead!”
“Don’t do this to yourself. You gotta look at this like a
cop, not as Will’s friend. It’s just as hard for me you know.
Without too much of a stretch, all the pieces are sliding into the
right slots. Maybe he tossed the place looking for anything that
might incriminate him, found the gun and kept it—for whatever
reason.”
“Like to kill Feyzi?” she asked.
“Maybe. Like I said before, maybe Feyzi knew
something. Could have tried to blackmail Will.”
Karen blew air out between her teeth. “We’re going in
circles. A motive would be good.”
“I thought blackmail sounded right, but what about when
he called you that afternoon wanting to see you pronto? You get
to his house, and what? He’s dead. A murder made to look like a
suicide. How come Will wasn’t with you on that call, huh?”
“Batan asked me to come alone.”
“So there it is. Batan wants to talk to you
without
Will.
Why do you suppose that was?”
“Will was pretty tough on him during our first meeting.
Actually, he was tough on everyone involved in this case. I just
figured Batan would be more comfortable talking without Will’s
hammering away at him.”