BENNINGTON P.I. “BONITA” (9 page)

“So spill it Talbot.  The last twenty four hours have been challenging enough without having to sit and listen to bullshit.  Just come out and say it – what’s going on?  What was Walt mixed up in?”

Talbot scanned the room around them, his eyes momentarily settling on every person in the bar before moving on to the next one.  I realized then the guy was nervous – a lot more scared than he was letting on inside the cab.

“I want to tell you first Mr., I mean, Frank.  I want to tell you that Walt was my friend.  We had delved into this subject some time ago, left it, and then for some reason, he decided he wanted to bring it out into the light once again.  Perhaps he thought it would give his life some meaning, or be one more go round.  I don’t really know, he didn’t say much about that part of it.  He was very determined though to see this through.  He wanted it exposed.  All of it.”

I downed my drink and signaled for another.  Talbot was talking in circles and it was giving me a headache.  I understood why he was doing it – he wasn’t sure he could trust me, any more than I was sure I could trust him, so the circular talking was just a matter of him trying to feel me out.  Knowing that’s what he was doing didn’t make me any less impatient for him to get to the damn point though.

“How about you just tell me what IT, is Mr. Talbot?  I don’t have time to be trying to guess at what you’re almost getting at.”

Jacob Talbot watched me take a sip from my second double Scotch, his eyes narrowing, becoming exponentially more intense.

“Perhaps you should first take a look at what Walt left you Frank inside the storage locker Frank.  I’m pretty sure is hiding inside of your jacket.”

I downed what remained of my Scotch and smiled back at Talbot.

“Tell you what, I’m gonna go use the bathroom and then come back here and by then, you’re gonna figure out a way to get to the point.  If you can’t do that, then our talk here is done, and we go our separate ways.”

Talbot simply shrugged.

“I’ll do my best Frank.  Don’t forget to wash your hands.”

I made the short walk to the men’s room, entered one of the two stalls inside and sat down on the closed toilet seat while removing the manila envelope from inside my jacket.  I opened the envelope and carefully withdrew its contents. It appeared to be a collection of papers and documents on top of which was a yellow sticky note written in what I assumed was Walt’s handwriting.

Don’t trust Talbot.

I was just about to look through the collection of papers when the bathroom door opened, and the sound of slowly approaching footsteps could be heard making their way toward my stall.  I leaned down and peered underneath the stall door, and recognized the dark brown Oxford shoes of the person now standing directly on the other side of the door.

They were the shoes of Jacob Talbot.

13.

Talbot stood silently outside my stall for several seconds as I just as silently returned the manila envelope to the inside of my jacket.

“Are you in there Mr. Bennington?  I mean, Frank?”

I didn’t respond right away, wondering if Talbot could be so desperate as to consider trying to kill me in a bathroom at least a few people noticed him walking into. 

“What do you want Talbot?  I’m not really comfortable with other men following me into the restroom if you take my meaning.”

Talbot issued a short chuckle.

“There’s two men who came into the bar Frank.  They showed badges and I overheard them saying your name.  They spoke with the bartender who I don’t think indicated he’d seen you.”

The bartender would be Reg, the main bartender at the
Off the Record
for the last five years.  He was in his mid forties, tall, with a lean, athletic build, and the good sense to keep his mouth shut when the job required.  He knew the beautiful and or powerful people of D.C. came in here to hide from the world, and yes, sometimes the authorities.  He wouldn’t have given me up.

“Go back to our table Talbot and wait for me there.”

I could see Talbot shuffling his feet, seemingly trying to make up his mind about what to do next.  If he came in here to do me harm, he sure as hell didn’t seem too willing to get on with it.  My patience had worn thin, having grown more than tired of hiding out in the bathroom stall waiting for Talbot to leave.

I opened the door and glared back at the other man.  He looked genuinely frightened of me, perhaps sensing I was teetering on a razor’s edge between flight or fight.

“What the hell is this all about Talbot?  Give me the damn abridged version, and make it quick.”

Jacob Talbot’s mouth opened, and then abruptly closed as the door into the bathroom was pushed inward.  I moved past both Talbot and a short, older man who I was pretty certain worked on the Hill with a Michigan senator’s staff.  It didn’t matter, I just wanted out of that restroom.

I quickly surveyed the interior surroundings and once satisfied there was no sign of any cops, walked quickly to the bar and withdrew the manila envelope from my jacket and handed it to Reg.

“I need you to keep that safe Reg.  And order up a couple steaks and have them sent to my table.”

Such was the appeal of the
Off the Record
.  Reg simply nodded back at me, saying nothing as he took the envelope and then placed it somewhere behind the bar.

“Yes sir, Mr. Bennington.  You had some visitors asking about you.  They left about a half minute ago.”

I nodded back at the bartender.

“So I heard. Thanks Reg.”

Talbot was already back seated at our table, his face pinched and nervous.  The guy looked like he was ready to bolt.

“You ok Talbot? Calm down, man. Just start telling me what you know about whatever mess you and Walt were involved in?  And like I told you before, give me the abridged version.”

The bar was filling up with more people, the sound of their conversations adding to a sense of security that nobody would hear what Talbot and I were talking about.

Talbot took a deep breath and then looked across the small table at me and raised his eyebrows slightly.

“Just open that envelope Frank and see what is inside.  Many of the answers you want are probably already there.”

I rolled my eyes and shook my head.

“I never said I had any envelope Talbot.  See, look.”

I opened my jacket to reveal I was hiding nothing inside of it.  Talbot’s eyes grew wide with confusion as his mouth hung open.

“But you opened the storage locker, right?  That’s why you were there.  Wasn’t there an envelope inside?”

I leaned back in my seat as I saw the steaks I had ordered making their way to our table.

“I told you it was a hunch that proved empty.  You thought I was lying to you?”

Talbot gave a weak grin as his eyes fell to his hands resting on top of the table.

“Yes Frank, I assumed you were lying.  It doesn’t make any sense.  I knew Walt was keeping information at that locker, he told me he was.  So when I learned of his death, I knew someone would show up to that locker.  That someone was you Mr. Bennington.”

I looked at the steak now sitting in front of me with considerable appreciation. I hadn’t realized just how hungry I was.

“So it’s back to Mr. Bennington huh?  Guess we’re not buddies anymore.  Try that steak – best rib eye in the city, guaranteed.”

Talbot pushed his plate away, a hint of disgust on his face.

“I’m a vegan Frank – don’t eat meat.”

I grunted back at Talbot’s declaration of avoiding all things animal.  Vegans, vegetarians, whatever the hell they liked to call themselves, I just didn’t get it.  How could anyone not enjoy a well prepared steak?  Or some slow cooked ribs glazed with some Kansas City barbeque sauce?  Fried chicken, bacon and eggs, I mean c’mon.  Vegan?  Really?  Not for me.  No way.  Cook that critter up and bring it to me.

My fork flashed across the table and imbedded itself in what was to be Talbot’s steak, bringing the medium rare piece of delicious meat back onto my plate where its lightly salted, melt in your mouth goodness would be given the attention it so richly deserved.

“Ok then, I’ll eat and you talk.  What’s this all about Talbot?”

Jacob Talbot removed his glasses and slowly cleaned them off.  His shoulders slumped slightly as his eyes raised and regarded me with the same deep weariness I had noted earlier.

“Do you know it was just over sixty degrees outside today Frank, and that is nearly four degrees under normal temperatures for this time of year?”

What the hell is he on about?

I could feel my headache returning.  I still didn’t know if Talbot was friend or foe, but he sure as hell knew how to talk out his ass, and was now adding weather reports to his bullshit
repertoire.

“Please Frank, let me explain.  It won’t take long.”

I slammed another piece of steak into my mouth and followed it up with a quick sip of scotch.

“You got five minutes Talbot.  Get to it.”

Talbot cleared his throat and pushed his glasses higher up on his nose.

“After I lost that campaign all those years ago, the one for Congress, I took a position with an environmental advocacy group.  I was, in essence, a lobbyist.”

I nodded my head and took another drink.

“Yeah, I remember.  You were doing that for a few years and then last I heard, you went back to Ohio, right?”

Talbot nodded back at me.

“That’s right, but before I left, there was a…a disagreement between myself and the advocacy group.  A matter of truth over lies Frank.  A very serious breach of the public trust.”

Having finished off my own steak, I started in on Talbot’s.

“So?  This is Washington D.C.!  Its entire existence is based upon wiping its ass every damn day with the public trust.  What’s your point?”

Talbot shifted in his seat and then pointed to the ceiling of the
Off the Record.

“You see those light bulbs used for the recessed lighting in here Frank?  There must be thirty or forty of those bulbs in this single business establishment alone.  And do you know what the cost for each of those bulbs is?”

I glanced above my head and then shrugged.  This was getting ridiculous.

“No Talbot, and your time is about up.  I don’t have time for this shit.”

Talbot’s right hand pressed down onto my left forearm and squeezed it tightly.

“Please Frank, just listen to me a bit longer.  What I’m explaining to you is what killed Walt, and what might kill the both of us if we aren’t very careful.”

I glanced toward the entrance of the bar and saw two men enter, both of them scanning the tables, clearly looking for someone.  I didn’t recognize either one of the men, but my instincts warned they were likely looking for me.

“We have company Talbot.  You recognize either one of those two guys standing over by the entrance?”

Talbot turned slowly to look over his shoulder before his head turned quickly back to me, panic dancing behind his glasses.

“I believe those are the men who killed Walt.”

I stared back at the taller of the two, just in time for him to lock eyes with me.  He was a younger man, no more than thirty, with a prominent, square jaw, deep set eyes, and wide, powerful shoulders.  He was dressed in a black sport coat and blue jeans, and when he saw me and began moving slowly, yet deliberately across the bar toward my table, it was the movement of a man supremely confident in his ability to inflict harm on others.