Slivovica Mason

by Clifton L Bullock Jr.

  "No! You have a seat! I’m not about to be told what to do by a man who I can’t trust anymore. You have lost all credibility with me and I will tell you why. You did use the word “marine” to describe the victim, so that means you knew more about Stockton than you led us to believe. Also you became quite pissed off when Orinda told you that she mentioned your name when she reached out to her Trenton connect at the New Jersey State Police because you knew they would do some real cop work. Why is that? Is it because you wanted us to work closer with your people? Is Detective Griffin one of your eyes? How can we trust that anything you and or he says is the truth?" Mason said as he reached for Orinda’s hand to stand.

  The thought actually never occurred to them until now because they believed Detective Griffin was just the unfortunate one to have jurisdiction over the area where the crime took place.

  "I sent you there because you are two of my best. That’s the only reason I sent you. Why else would I? You don’t think I could have sent someone else?" Chandler explained but the attempt to compliment them was irrelevant because they were no longer listening. They were more interested in getting out of there.

  "Again, this is no different than the last time I was in a room with men of power that had the ability to do good but only used their position of power for more corruption and death. I’ve been in a room before where I took orders from men who only had the intentions to spread hate, malice and death. You aren’t the first to do this, so hear me when I say this to you. Until this is over and we are sure our lives are safe, we will distance ourselves from the Daily and from you, Mr. Chandler. Consider this my request for a leave of absence," Mason announced to Chandler.

  Orinda made sure that she had all of her belongings because it looked like Mason had just quit for the both of them. She wouldn’t contest because from this point forward, they were a couple, a tandem, a duo, a team. She would follow him anywhere because he had proven that he would do anything to protect her.

  It was the circumstance of death that brought them together. If it weren’t for the mysterious request by a boss with questionable intentions to join them to gather information about the death of one of America’s finest, they would still be strangers that merely worked in the same office. He would admire her from afar, and she would never know how he really felt but now that they were both chasing a killer, or being chased by a killer, they bonded in such a way. After this was all over, they could never go back to the lives they lived before this.

  Situations when you have to bond with your only ally to ensure both of your survival prove what you are made of. It’s almost like war in a sense. Though fear may be, resolve has a larger presence. Resolve is fueled by fear in order to be aware of your surroundings, and fear allows you to weigh every option in order to live and tell the story.

  As a journalist, to tell the story is life and to Mason he needed to live to tell his story. Not only did he have to live, he needed to survive. Survival is not limited to the fittest as Darwinism tells, but survival is limited to those that know the value of defeat and are not willing to take the charge. Instead they maneuver and learn and at the right moment, they counter any motion meant to cancel their progress with an attack of their own. It’s almost like war in a sense. Survival is war.

  Chapter 14

  "Do you think Chandler has something to do will all of this, Mason?" Orinda asked as she drove. After leaving the Daily, they decided to drive to Trenton to meet up with her State Police connect she reached out to at the very beginning of the whole fiasco.

  Though Detective Griffin gave them survival tips, they felt compelled to speak with another law enforcement officer because suspicion told them that Griffin might be in cahoots with Chandler. They didn’t have evidence to prove Chandler had anything to do with the letters or the death itself, but the fact that he knew Stockton, the dead sailor was a marine at a time before it was revealed let them know that he knew more than presented. The coincidence didn’t settle well with either, especially Mason.

  "Mason, can you tell me the rest of your story about what happened in the boardroom? I think whatever happened, it is very important to help us find out what’s going on," Orinda asked and wondered as they crossed over the Delaware River into Trenton. The ragged sign of the town’s motto contradicted a lot, but maybe because it was erected with pride from another time.

  "Trenton makes and the world takes," it read, but the only thing Trenton made over the last few years was the nightly headline news. Like most inner cities in the tri-state area, crime ran rampant there. Just last week there was a double murder suicide in a Trenton apartment complex that made the news all the way to Philly.

  Mason was reluctant. The only reason he began telling the story before was that the guilt weighed so heavy, and the shock of the letter made him feel like his time was already up, but this time was different. His fear of Orinda being harmed over her involvement with him made worry take over from where guilt left off. He worried for her. He felt that if Chandler had chosen someone else to get the scoop for this case, she would have been spared, but if he did choose someone else, chances are he would probably already be dead. He knew this and behind her calm resolve, she knew it, too. Because of this, Mason needed to learn as much from her as he could. She knew the literary value of the letters. She knew about the Victorian era author whose words were quoted in order to hide the identity of a killer or even more, to hide the killer’s secrets.

  She was able to recall passages from a novelist’s poems and connect the dots to a modern day dilemma of Navy versus Marine Corps, so before he could tell her what he witnessed and recollected from the dark room, she had to tell him more about this Samuel Butler and why he of all people was being used in a killer’s poetic riddle. There were others of a more popular or even sensible choice.

  "I w-w-will tell you al-l-l about it later tonight if you would like to come back over. I don’t want you going back to Delaware alone. I want to make sure that you’re safe. Besides, I don’t think that it will help us solve the mystery of the killer. I know exactly who those men were and to be honest, they knew I knew as well. They spoke Russian, and my CO knew I spoke it and understood it as well. I will tell you all about it eventually. Just stay with me tonight, please." Mason practically begged after taking another Ativan and a drink from his flask.

  Without hesitation Orinda agreed. She wanted to be with him but more importantly, she was afraid of being alone. If they were both at risk, then she would have rather them to be together. To defend each other.

  "I think it may be better for you to tell more about this person, our killer, who is so infatuated with that he would quote that certain poet for death threats. What more do you know about this Stan Butler?"

  "Samuel. Samuel Butler is his name," she repeated as they made a turn at an intersection.

  "Yes, Samuel Butler. I would like to know more about him because that may be something we could use to help us to find out who is behind the killings. The boardroom people may have been masterminds, but I don’t think they are as dangerous to us as this henchman," Mason ventured and took another swig from him flask.

  "Well, I don’t remember a lot about him because it’s been so long ago, but I do remember he had some hardship growing up. He had issues with his father and left home at an early age. He grew up in England but moved as far away from England without leaving English life completely…to Australia. He was a talented writer and while he was away, he still had to deal with life and the past he tried to run from. He was able to use his life’s adversities and channel them through his emotions and his quill. Before you knew, he had a collection of poems and stories completed.

  "I don’t get it. What would this have to do with me or Stockton?" Mason asked.

  "That’s a good question, Mason, but to think about it literally is to think about the similarities but to think about it logically, may actually help us. You see Sam Butler had secrets. Back then the world was similar to today in a lot of ways, but one
thing the world wasn’t then was tolerant. Today, homosexuality is somewhat acceptable. Don’t get me wrong, it’s still frowned upon by some with homophobia, but society as a whole is maturing and doesn’t shun it like it once did. Well, at least here in the United States. Hell, gay marriage is legal in 17 states and also in countries like England now but even that wasn’t the case let’s say about ten years ago. So if that was the case ten years ago, imagine how the world viewed homosexuality in the 19th century. There was never a confirmation of Samuel Butler being gay, but it was long suspected because he had many young male understudies that would live with him for years at a time. Don’t get me wrong. There are accounts of him tricking off with prostitutes, but there was never record of him being married. It’s been said that a male traveling the world on a nautical vessel sometimes becomes accustomed to a different type of comfort. Let’s just say that’s how he made the voyage from England to Australia," she said.

  "Are you saying that the person who is doing this is gay? Or are you saying the person who is doing this served time on a ship because we figure the naval significance? Or are you saying that the person who did all of this has father issues?" Mason asked as he tried to make sense of if all. It boggled him to no end. What did he have to do with either scenario or why would the killer quote a man who lived in silence until an attempt of coming out to reveal who he was?

  "I’m not sure, but it kind of makes sense to me. Maybe the person who killed Stockton has a secret as well. Maybe the killings are only a small part of what and who he is. Maybe Stockton knew something about our killer that no one else knew. Maybe…," Orinda said but if that were the case, there needed to be a reason why this person with such a secret, wanted to tell it while targeting Mason. If it’s the same secret they all shared, then the method to kill Marines who didn’t know his other secret didn’t make sense. Unless there was another secret hidden under the layer of mystery that needed to be solved in order to figure what was going on and who the killer was.

  She wanted to ask about those secrets. She could tell he was unnerved, but was it because he was hiding something else or was it strictly because of their current situation, running from a poetic killer from his not so beautiful past? She was apprehensive in how to approach this. How could she ask him to reveal more about Mason than he already had without being dishonest in her inquiry? They were past the point of where they were uncomfortable with each other, but they were still new and fragile. He was especially so, but she had to ask.

  "Is there anything you want to tell me regarding sex that may help us? I’m sorry if this is uncomfortable for you to answer. I understand. Trust me; it’s uncomfortable to ask especially after last night," she eluded to when she craved for him to be inside of her and he resisted. She didn’t want to embarrass him, but she needed to know two things.

  What did he see while deployed that would help piece the Samuel Butler mystery of potential homosexuality into play, and also why did he resist her feminine advances? After her question, she could tell something was there because like last time, Mason closed his eyes and put his head down before he started.

  "I saw something while we were there. Things that were never supposed to be seen. I saw my own Marines rape women because it was fun for them. It was almost for sport. There was one night I saw something I wish I hadn’t. I had had a bad day. This was before the board room meeting by the way. I was depressed because of the teasing I was always subjected to because of my slow speech. I had more to drink than I probably should have and I was tired of the ridicule; I had enough so I approached Stockton. Since I usually have control over my tongue when I’m a little intoxicated, I figured it was as good a time than ever. Also since we were in the rear, we didn’t have to muster until 0800 which meant I could probably get a good night of sleep after I got some relief. When I made it to Stockton’s room and I approached his door, I heard a rhythmic sound. I didn’t know what it was at first but then I put my ear to the door to listen intensely. I heard the sound continue faster and faster along with incremental grunts and then shushes. Maybe it wasn’t the best time to knock on the door, but I was drunk so I did. I knocked on the door, and the sounds stopped immediately. I knocked again, this time calling out Stockton’s name and immediately the door swung open and once it did, his hands were around my throat. I can’t recall what he said to me because I couldn’t breathe, but I do remember the smell of musk escaping the room. I remember the rage in his eyes. I won’t ever forget that," Mason said.

  That was the first time he had told this story, but Orinda was glad he did. It helped them get that much closer.

  "Who was in the room with him, Mason? Did you see who was in the room?" She asked but Mason couldn’t give her the answer she needed. He didn’t know.

  "I never saw who was in the room with him and to be honest I never thought to ever find out who it was. That was another secret I kept to myself because I was afraid. I was afraid because I never confronted that before. It embarrassed me to a point so much that I never wanted to think about it. Stockton never mentioned that night to me again, but he used every opportunity thereafter to inflict as much pain and harm to me that he could as if he were reminding me that I knew one of his secrets, but he was willing to make sure it didn’t leave among him, me and whoever else was in that room,” Mason confided.

  "I really wonder who the other person in the room was, Mason, because I think that may be our killer. Who else could get close enough to Stockton to kill him so viciously except a person who had been close enough to him before? He had no idea it was coming because the killer used intimacy to get close to him and then bam! Killed him. He killed Stockton for knowing both of their secrets, but he also killed him for whatever reason the other Marines including you are being targeted for. Even so, this one was different," Orinda thought out loud.

  Orinda drove into the parking lot of a Shop Rite grocery store in the township of Ewing, the next city away from Trenton, to listen to Mason and try to understand the connections of Samuel Butler. What he revealed allowed him another chance to clean his vault of bad memories, but it also gave her a basis to analyze regarding the case and figure out who this person was that wanted them dead. Once they found out who it was, they could bait him into a trap and get this guy locked away, but she needed to hear the whole story this time.

  "Well, from the sound of things going on in the room and how aggressive Stockton was when he opened his door with a grip so strong around my neck, he was the dominant one. I don’t know who was on the other side with him, but Stockton was in control."

  "That’s it!" Orinda exclaimed startling Mason. "It’s obvious that the killer has killed before or has seen death before to be able to stomach the ferocity of execution style murder. We now know that the person was a marine who served with you. Got it. We also know that this person had a secret that no one else was supposed to know about regarding his sexuality, and we also know that someone has something else over him. We need to see all of the other Marines killed over the last few years and then piece together who’s left from your detail. Once we can see who is left, we can warn them and find this person. Our killer HAS be the other person behind the door, Mason. We may have just caught a break in this case," Orinda exclaimed.

  She couldn’t hold back her excitement. She was a little kid who finally completed a very complex 10,000 piece jigsaw puzzle, but there was a lot more to figure. She needed to know more about the killer who came out of the closet by killing his partners.

  "Did you ever have an intimate relationship with Stockton or anyone else in that way?” Orinda asked. She wanted to know this for her own personal reasons, but she also wanted to know as much information that she possibly could to complete the picture. Stockton’s killer had a secret, but that wasn’t all of his message in the letter. He didn’t have to come out and identify his sexuality the way he did unless there was something else that Mason understood from the passage he wrote.

  Mason probably didn’t know who he was serv
ing that had homosexual tendencies and in a male, testosterone-driven military society, especially for the United States Marine Corps, the cover up was necessary because if there was no cover up, there would be fewer military service men serving than the numbers show. She also wanted to make sure the reason Mason resisted her last night while they were both intoxicated really was that he didn’t want to ruin their professional relationship by having sex. If that were the case, she could understand and was willing wait until they were no longer working on this case that involved so much of his past to make another move because she liked him. On the other hand, if it were because he had no interest in her and wanted the touch of a man instead, she wanted to know that as well.

  When she asked Mason this question, he looked up at her for the first time in what seemed to be hours. His eyes began to stretch due to the strain that was in his face. His body reacted to her question before his mouth or his brain could. His words were choked as he began to speak. It was as if his tongue made his eyes seizure before he could speak. The sounds he made and the look on his face scared her so much that she began to rub his back again to sooth him. Mason attempted to collect himself by trying to close his eyes again, but he also quickly lit another cigarette and took a deep drag.

  "Are you okay?" Orinda worriedly asked.

  "I-I-I’m okay, I ne-need-need a min-m-m-minute," Mason said. He needed all of his assistants to help him answer this question. In addition to the nicotine, he ingested another Ativan and swallowed it down with a swig from his flask all while holding his lit cigarette in his other hand.

  "To answer your question, I have never had an intimate relationship with Stockton or any man. I have never been attracted to a man, and I would never let a man invade my body like that. I have enough scars mentally and physically to have that type of shit to deal with, too," he said to her relief.