The Mystery of Jessica Benson

by Laurence, C. K.

  “Do tell.”

  “Seems Jessica was having all kinds of arguments the last few days of her life. With all kinds of folks.” He looked down and patted his stomach. “I’m starved. Let’s get out of here and catch dinner. We have plenty to talk about. What do you feel like eating? It’s on me tonight.”

  An hour later the players walked into City Hall – The Restaurant, one of the newest and the most delicious places to open in a long time in the greater Miami area. Steve Haas, the owner, had been around the restaurant scene for many years. Everyone knew when he finally opened his own, it would be the best, and no one was disappointed when he did. Reggie, the maître d’, immediately took the football players into the private room in the back, away from the already crowded main area of the restaurant.

  “Thanks, Reggie,” Kyle said to the very handsome African American man who was Steve’s right arm during the busy evenings. “We’ll try to be quick. Can you keep the masses out ‘til we get out of here?”

  “Of course. How are you doing, okay?” Reggie’s face showed genuine concern. James, Kyle and a few of the other players were regulars at City Hall and big favorites among the wait staff. Everyone who dined there received special treatment, though, and the food was beyond delicious, with a twist.

  “Steve will come back to say hello, but in the mean time, I’ll get someone here to take your orders and get you started. You know, anything you guys need, we’re here for you.”

  After their orders were placed and they were nursing their second beers, Lundy finally spoke. “Well, I don’t plan on waiting all night. You got something to tell me, so tell me.”

  “I thought you might want to catch a little more of a buzz before we got back into the subject of life as I now know it.”

  “Pretend I’m buzzed, man — talk.” “Gloria came around to see me today and dropped some interesting information into my hot tub.”

  “Gloria? Man, she hated Jessica. Never forgave her for having you.”

  “Yeah, thanks. Anyway, when she was leaving the compound the other night, she stumbled into Jess and Luke Arnold. They were arguing. She thought they didn’t see her and she never mentioned it to either of them. She told me she hadn’t given it another thought, but then this morning Luke confronted her about it. He wanted to make sure she didn’t think anything of it, which naturally got her to thinking there might be more to it. Luke told her they weren’t fighting. He was denying something he wasn’t even sure Gloria knew had been going on. Said something that pissed Jess off apparently, and then she tore into him. But if it was so much of nothing, why’d he bother going to Gloria about it at all?”

  “So what’d the cops say when she told them?”

  Kyle wrinkled his eyebrows and said, “Gloria didn’t mention it to them, and if Luke was covering with Gloria, I don’t see him telling the police about it either.”

  James stepped on the end of his sentence. “What the fuck? Is she on crack or what?”

  “Settle down a minute. Let me finish telling you what she said.” He waited a beat and then continued. “She told me that Kaufman really rousted her about me and she got off point.”

  “Look Kyle, I’m not saying he’s not a prick, but Gloria’s no pushover. I don’t see her buckling like that.”

  “I agree. She’s been around. But I don’t think she’s ever been questioned by a homicide cop before — and Kaufman is one intimidating motherfucker.”

  James started to speak, but held back when the waiter showed up with their meals, and set the plate on the table, looking to the quarterback for his approval. “Hope this steak is rare enough for you, Kyle.”

  “Thanks, Luigi. It looks great. When you get back this way could you drop us off a couple more beers?”

  “No problem,” he smiled at the quarterback and stayed just a beat too long.

  Kyle smiled back and nodded at the waiter, hoping to signal it was okay to leave, but he didn’t turn to go until Lundy slurped the last of his beer and thumped the bottle down hard enough to make everyone jump. Luigi turned on his heels and stomped off.

  As soon as the waiter was out of sight, James said, “Look, Kyle, you don’t think forgetting to mention an argument in a dark parking lot one day before Jessica’s killed is a stretch? Shit. This is all about rage — this is the shit that goes to motive.”

  Kyle stared at his best friend, then looked down at his plate, shrugged and pushed the steak away. “I thought I’d be able to eat tonight, but I just lost my appetite. So, you’re saying you think Gloria deliberately held that information back from the cops? I don’t see a reason for her doing that. There’s no gain for her in not giving Luke Arnold up.”

  “Don’t be stupid with me. That woman’s had a thing for you since she came to the team. Fact is, she’s still hot for you.”

  “Oh, that’s rich, asshole. I see now. She’s so hot for me she makes sure I get thrown in jail for life. There we go. She can’t have me so no one else can ever me, either, right?”

  Luigi came back and placed two bottles in front of the athletes. Kyle picked his up and took several deep pulls. James did the same, and then continued.

  “You’re joking about it, but stranger things have happened, man.”

  “Okay, so why’d she bother mentioning it to me? It could’ve been her and Luke’s secret. Once I know about it, she’s got to figure I’m going to shout it out. My goddamned life is on the line here.”

  “Sure, but coming from you it’s not the same. You go tell Detective Dickhead so and so told me and I’m telling you. It’s just different, you know? Think about it, man. It’d look like you put her up to it. All of a sudden she remembers an argument she witnessed and she’d never said anything when they questioned her in the first place. That, my friend, is no small oversight.”

  “What’s your point here? I seem to be missing it.”

  “Maybe she figured by telling you, you’d feel indebted to her. She’d like that enough. Or maybe she just holds a fat grudge against you and hates you enough to want to see you go down for the killing.”

  James was so intense that Kyle couldn’t help chuckling.

  “So tell me, James, when did you become a conspiracy theorist? Or maybe you’re just practicing law without a license, huh? I suppose you have an idea of where to go from here, counselor?”

  “I think for starters we pay a little visit to Arnold on the down-low. Check out his version of the mysterious parking lot scene for ourselves. I’d be curious to know if he mentioned it when he talked to the cops. I’m betting — again because he tipped his hand to Gloria about it by coming to her after the murder — he didn’t.”

  Kyle nodded slowly and took a deep breath. “You’re right. I can’t think of any reason he wouldn’t have mentioned it to the cops, or felt he had to clear it up with Gloria, unless, of course, he has something to hide.”

  “Alrighty then, Kyle, we got some work to do.”

  Kyle stood to leave. Pointing his thumb and forefinger at Lundy said, “Let’s do it.”

  James motioned him to sit back down. “Uh, Kyle —?”

  He lowered himself back into his chair and asked, “Yeah?”

  “You gonna finish that steak?”

  Kyle looked hard at Lundy for a minute, then shook his head slightly. “Nah, James. You go ahead. Don’t let my bad fortune ruin your good appetite.”

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  F eyzi Batan was sweating. Karen and Will watched intently throughout the entire aerobics class he was teaching. Exactly one hour after he kicked his first kick, he told the exhausted class of women he would see them again next session. The giggling group of scantily leotarded, make-up caked patronesses rolled up their mats and rushed up to the front of the room and surrounded the guru, each competing for a portion of his attention. And it was clear he had plenty of it to go around.

  The Turk had well-defined muscles without being bulky. He was just tall enough to not be called ‘short’, maybe 5’10.” He’s the kind of man
women love to nurture and be nurtured by, Karen thought. Big, sad brown eyes and a head full of dark, curling hair. His lips were full but not too full. The kind women love to kiss and be kissed by. A tiny diamond stud decorated his left earlobe.

  As soon as the last woman left the room, the detectives cornered him. They flipped their badges. Feyzi turned an ugly shade of crimson.

  “You are wanting me?”

  Karen tried to suppress a smile and answered, “Yes. We’ll need to speak with you in private, please.” He looked around for a moment as though he wasn’t quite getting it, and then, beckoning to them said, “Yeah, uh, yes. There is office in back. Come please.”

  Crunch catered to the wealthier exercise groupies. It was clean, modern and unlike most gyms, did not smell like old sneakers and jock straps. Feyzi led them through an area equipped with more step machines and treadmills than Karen had ever seen in one place. Will muttered something about it looking like a torture chamber to him.

  Feyzi took them into a small office that was totally out of character with the upscale décor of the rest of the gym. It was cramped and cluttered with file cabinets and obsolete equipment. Four folding chairs surrounded a faux oak desk. Behind the desk was a leather executive chair that looked like it had been retrieved from a war zone. Batan started to move toward it, but Will blocked his path. The two stared at one another, Batan looked as though he was ready to run, but instead backed himself slowly into one of the folding chairs.

  “Good choice,” leered Will, giving the trainer a steely glare. He took the chair right next to Feyzi while Karen sat off to the side.

  “What kind of accent you got, Batan?” Then he lowered his voice, narrowed his eyes and asked, “You from somewhere in the Middle East, boy?”

  “I am from Turkey, sir,” Feyzi responded, his voice barely audible.

  “Speak up, son, I can hardly hear you. You a little nervous here, or what?”

  Feyzi shook his head, but looked scared as hell.

  “Well, you’re making me a little nervous here, son, what with the present problems our country is facing, I gotta hope you aren’t one of them Arab terrorists.” Will smiled. It was a cold, scary smile, more like a threat, and it was clearly not wasted on the Turk. Karen crossed her arms and leaned back. He’s already drawn blood, Karen thought. Vintage Will.

  “Turkey, I’m from Turkey.” He looked toward Karen as though he thought she might intercede on his behalf.

  “Now why’re you looking at my partner like that, huh? You think she’s gonna block for your sorry ass? Maybe you think she’s gonna join your fan club like all the fancy little tricks out there in your class? Well, get over it. She’s a cop, just like me, and neither of us is buying into your act. And speaking of acts, you know, the Patriot Act gives us special leeway to deal with folks we think may be terrorists.”

  Batan looked down at his lap and mumbled again that he was Turkish and wouldn’t hurt anyone.

  Karen cleared her throat and waited a minute for him to collect himself. When he finally looked up she gave him a hard stare. “You have any idea why we’re visiting you, Batan?”

  “No—yes—I mean, I guess. Not because you think I am terrorist, I’m thinking.” He shrugged his shoulders. “Everyone is talking about murder of Jessica. I was personal trainer to her. Maybe you’re thinking I am knowing something about what happened to her?” He looked from Will to Karen pleadingly, and then again said, “I am not terrorist.”

  “All right. We won’t worry about whether or not you’re a terrorist right now, but if you do know anything about what happened to Ms. Benson, now’s a good time to talk,” Karen said. “It would save us all a lot of time and aggravation.”

  “I am sorry she is gone. She was nice lady.”

  Will’s eyes went wide, feigning amazement at the trainer’s response.

  “Nice lady? Who you trying to kid, ‘nice lady’? We hear maybe she wasn’t so nice. Fact is the one thing everyone we’ve talked to can agree on is that she was not nice. So how about rethinking what you just said and getting with the fucking program, asshole.”

  “Well, maybe not to every person she was nice, but Jessica was nice to me. She wanted very much to improve her body and is so easy to work with her. You’re understanding me?”

  “I’m understanding bullshit. We’re not here to find out how well she flexed her butt for you. We want to know about your relationship off the mat,” Will spat.

  Feyzi wrinkled his eyebrows and asked, “Off the mat? What is this you’re meaning, ‘the mat’?

  “Outside the gym.”

  “Outside of gym?”

  “What’re you, Little Sir Echo? We ask the questions, you answer them. The sooner you get that down, the sooner we’re outta here.”

  Feyzi stared at the officers, and crouched down in his chair as though trying to make himself invisible. He swallowed a couple of times and finally spoke up. “She was my good friend is all. My very good friend and student, you know what I am saying?”

  Karen took a deep breath and answered, “Not exactly. We heard she was your friend — with benefits. We were told you were intimate with her.”

  Feyzi cocked his head, obviously confused. “Friend with benefits?” he asked.

  “Goddammit, boy!” Will bellowed. “You looking to piss me off or what? Stop fucking around, playing twenty questions with us. You spit one more sentence back at us and we’re gonna have to take you down to the station to finish this up. Are you understanding me better now?”

  Feyzi hesitated. He looked terrified. “I’m thinking maybe I’m needing lawyer?”

  “You fuckers can’t even speak our language, but you know to lawyer-up before you answer any questions, don’t you! You’re forgetting that suspected terrorists don’t have the same rights as the rest of us,” Will bullied.

  “If you think you need an attorney then by all means get one,” Karen answered. “But then, of course, this moves our little interrogation to another level. Right now we’re just looking for some simple answers. You supply them, and like my partner told you, we’re gone. So, it’s pretty much up to you.”

  “Yeah, right. And maybe if you were to call an attorney in, we’d think you were hiding something. Maybe something to do with terrorist attacks,” Will jabbed.

  “Okay, so no attorney. I can tell you about Jessica. But please, I don’t know nothing about terror attacks. So maybe Jess, she was not such a nice girl all the time. This is what you are wanting to hear, yes?”

  Karen smiled. “We want to hear the truth. How do you mean she wasn’t a nice girl?”

  “Well, I guess she liked to be with many men—even when she is sleeping with the football hero. She was not a faithful woman.” He raised his eyebrows as if to ask if he was on the right track.

  Karen nodded, encouraging him to continue. “Okay. Good. Do you know any of the other men she was with?”

  “No, no. She talks plenty about what she was doing with others, but never who they were. She was with men and women too, I’m thinking.”

  “What the fuck?” Will stood and started pacing the small office, running his hand through his hair. He stuck his head into Feyzi’s space and the trainer shrunk back, clearly expecting to be slugged.

  “Yeah, you better be scared, you little shit-eater. If you do know any names, male or female, better give ’em to us now. I’m losing my patience and that’s not good for you. I don’t like you first to begin with, and I hate being jerked around in general.”

  “No one’s going to hurt you.” Karen interrupted. “Just tell us what we need to know.” Something is off here, she thought. He’s too squirrelly. He knows something, and even though he’s obviously scared shitless, he’s not talking. She nodded to him and said, “Okay, can you do that?”

  “Is good. I am good, is okay. I can do it. Jessica would tell me how she teases people to make them do what she wanted — sexy things.”

  “So what? Every broad’s a prick tease. There’s nothing strange ab
out that.” Will said.

  “Do you know if any of her, um, ‘partners’ ever tried to hurt her?” Karen asked.

  “That I’m not knowing anything about. She just tells me how nobody knows about anybody else and how she is loving playing games. She would tell me she could get any person she wishes and she is right.” He looked toward Karen, his eyes praying for a break.

  She continued to feel that he was holding something back, or covering something up. “I understand. So we’ve established that you were close friends. You’re a very handsome man, Mr. Batan. Very physical.” She felt it was time to go with what they already knew. “Were you maybe one of Jessica’s many men?”

  He looked as though she had kicked him in the balls. Will, apparently figuring that the Turk had been caught off guard, went in for the kill.

  “What are you, a faggot? I always heard you muscle types were slipping it to each other.”

  The Turk suddenly looked angry. “I am with women only.”

  “Okay, so you got a gorgeous chick like that hanging out with you. Were you getting any or what?”

  Karen jumped in and assured him that it was not a crime to have had an affair with Jessica; however it would be a crime not to tell them about it.

  Reluctantly he continued. “Yes, I’m with Jessica many times. She makes me want her every day. But I know I am no better than all the others to her. She would tell me about what she is doing with others when we were together. She makes me crazy to know if she cares for me, but I believe the truth is she does not. She respects no one. She sleeps with many mens and then laughs on them. And still, knowing who she is, I am wanting her. I tell her I am even in love with her, but she thinks I am a funny fellow.” He seemed to deflate as he confessed.

  Karen pulled her chair closer to the witness. She reached out and put her hand on his arm. He jerked away from her.

  “It’s okay, Feyzi. You’re doing fine. Now tell me one more thing. When was the last time you were with Jessica?”

  His eyes got big and he shook his head. “I’m swearing, I did not kill her. I’m swearing it.”