Slivovica Mason

by Clifton L Bullock Jr.

  "You are right, detective, and that’s what I will do. I will finally speak up and talk. I will do what I didn’t do then now in order to pay homage to the ones who needed my voice before, but I didn’t speak due to my fear. My life was on the line, and they could have killed me, but now my life is on the line again, this time from the same man who was ordered to save it in times of injury and combat. I feel I need to speak because the truth of the experience could have been silenced forever," Mason said.

  Orinda walked into the room with the fax and cover letter in her hand.

  “We all are gonna get through this together, so don’t worry about being silenced. Just make sure you remember us when you become famous," Griffin said with a smile as he sat back in his chair and then turned to Orinda at the conference room entrance. She was excited about her discovery but curious about the conversation she walked in on. There was no time to cover what Mason and Griffin discussed because they needed to review what the hotel name list revealed, but she had to ask.

  "What’s going on? What were you two talking about?" she asked and then closed the door and sat next to Mason. Curiosity wouldn’t allow her to move forward. She felt compelled to know in case it was something that would save her life as well.

  "I was just telling Mason that after this is all over, he has to tell the world because it’s too much to keep silent. He gave his word that he would and when he reached fame, he wouldn’t forget us," Griffin said. Mason bashfully smiled and then sheepishly put his head down. He didn’t know how to handle the attention bestowed on him,

  "When he is famous, I will be right by his side," Orinda said with a smile.

  She slid the fax cover on the table and then did the same with the list of guests at the 2014 VA Developmental Pharmaceutical Conference. She already reviewed the names because two were highlighted, one right underneath the other.

  "Look at what I found as I looked over the list?" she said. The faxed document had a darker contrast of black lines due to the ink settings on the machine’s printer. This made the names harder to read, but the blue highlighter through the three names made them clear as day. On the itinerary were two names Mason and Orinda knew very well.

  "Look right there. We may have found our second man who is helping Cruz and possibly has even closer ties to him," Orinda said. The names of Vernon and Jennifer Chandler were highlighted and right above them on the guest list was the key note speaker as expected, Doctor of Pharmacology from Baltimore, Maryland, Dr. Stantigo Cruz.

  "What do you think Cruz’s affiliation is to Chandler?" Mason asked out loud in general but more directed to Orinda since she was the first to discover the names on the list. She didn’t know but the fact Chandler and his wife were guests at a conference that a supposed killer was couldn’t be a coincidence. Both understood the significance of a coincidence especially since they considered their union being joined as such. Sometimes fate was a coincidence.

  "Your boss was at the conference? That is odd. Was he in his office? I would like to ask him a few questions about this," Detective Griffin asked, but he already knew the answer. If Chandler was in the office, such would have been one of the first things Orinda offered before giving them the list of the names confirming the affiliation of all parties.

  "I asked around the office to see if he was here, but no one had seen him in a few days. They said he had been coming in after hours. He stopped assigning tasks via email and instead placed typed documents on their desks they would find in the morning. No one has seen him since our last day in the office. The day when we kind of ousted him for lying about Stockton."

  "What do you mean ousted him?" Detective Griffin asked as he grabbed the printout to read it and then re-read it again.

  "After we spoke with you yesterday, we had to rush back here for a meeting. It was hectic because we were late after the three of us reviewed the envelopes’ handwriting," Orinda said thinking back. She remembered how antsy Chandler was. He was known for being a bear, but this was a little different.

  "At first, he gave us grief for being late. He used the ‘late arrival’ to yell at us for everything else including why we didn’t open the envelope that revealed the same letter found with Petty Officer Stockton’s body. Also, he made an odd correlation that the dead body found was a U.S. Marine, but that fact was not discovered until after we arrived at the scene. He knew more than he admitted at first, and we were skeptical. He assigned us this task personally as if he needed it solved or as if he were presenting us to someone waiting in the wind, exposing us. He is all over this," Mason said to Griffin. His words were delivered slowly, but they made immediate impact.

  "Okay, guys, I have a confession to tell before we go any further," Griffin said. He looked nervous and rattled. With everything else that was going on, Mason and Orinda couldn’t handle any more surprises, but they were sure what Griffin was about to tell them would be more than they could handle.

  "I should have told you this from the very beginning, but our start wasn’t what it should have been. I let my ego fuel me instead of my passion to help others and solve crimes. I really didn’t get a chance to apologize to either of you for how things started out and I would like to apologize now. Mason, I apologize for being so insensitive to your pain of losing someone you knew regardless of the past you shared. The tears you shed and the screams still scorch me. To you, Orinda, I apologize that I fell victim to my masculinity which allowed me to disregard my objective as a chief investigative detective and as a husband trying to do right by my loving wife. I apologize for it all. All of those things prevented me from being honest with you about something I should have told the second both of you arrived on the scene and introduced yourselves and told me who you worked for. I knew your boss from years ago. We served together in the United States Army during Vietnam in 1971. He was one the Rangers I served with when I first arrived to the Bush,” Griffin said and then paused. He waited for a response but received nothing so he continued.

  “One day while we were humping, I remember talking with him seconds before out of nowhere we were ambushed by camouflaged Viet Congs. He told me when he finished his tour, he was going to go back to the States a better person than before the war. Though he saw more carnage than a regular man, he wanted to move back home and live a regular life. He was always talking about how his father had a job for him at the Philadelphia Daily when his tour was over. He was excited about life because he had a wife to return to, but minutes after the conversation that person was no more. We lost so many men that day and to hear those screams was the worst. You reminded me of the screams the day we met, but I purposely focused on something else. I don’t think my mind will ever allow me to forget the screams. I remember Chandler clammed up and wouldn’t stop screaming and crying. I couldn’t return fire because I needed to calm him down. I muted his screams by gripping his mouth with my dirty, bloody hands. That was the last day I remembered Chandler being a good guy. After that, he no longer talked about his wife, he no longer talked about his plans when he returned back to the States, and he barely talked at all. Mainly he would yell at anyone he had contact with. It didn’t matter if it were a simple topic such as trading MREs or having a family because we didn’t have kids. He lost a part of himself that day, and I think it’s still out there in the Bush. Sometimes when we soldiers return from war, we are forgotten and left to repair ourselves. Men sent to war never return the same. That’s been known of every war America has fought, but this was different because there weren’t many wars that America fought and lost. She lost more than the fight and the lives of over 58,000 men. She also lost the souls of her returned children, and Chandler was one of them. One day while on mission, a few women were working in a rice field. We had direct orders not to approach them and to continue on to the next rally point to join with a group of Marines. Chandler opened fire killing all six of them, but what he did afterwards was beyond evil. He ran over and one by one slit their throats, opened their mouths and hawked spit in each of
them all the while laughing. He had gone mad, and we didn’t know how to approach him because of fear. After we made it back to the rear, Chandler was examined and then sent back stateside for mental evaluation. We heard he was diagnosed with something called ‘Irritable Heart,’" Griffin said to them as he looked on at the names on the list. He felt the need to explain this because like Mason’s stories, it was necessary.

  "We are glad you told us, Detective, and your story can somewhat validate why he is the way he is but that’s about it. It’s just another story. One of America’s soldiers was sent to fight a war and return only a shell of what he was. It’s very unfortunate for Mr. Chandler but more so for the people that loved him and wanted him to be better. We all have something in common. Mason is living proof that just because you have post-traumatic stress, you don’t have to join others to commit murder. At least we know what he is capable of," Orinda said to Detective Griffin as she confiscated the fax from him.

  "I’m sure all of this will help in the long run of solving this, but my question is why didn’t Chandler tell us about you? He didn’t say anything about that he knew you. He just told us to meet with the investigator. I don’t think he expected you to reveal this about him, and I don’t think that he thought we would be able to find out how he is affiliated with Cruz. That’s the part that still needs to be figured. How is he affiliated with Cruz?" Mason asked.

  He was right. The revelation of Chandler being a killer during war did not make him a killer now. Stantigo Cruz was the killer, and they knew for certain due to clues he left behind but that was it. It didn’t prove Chandler committed any crime. They needed to find out why Chandler was at the conference in order to understand the connection.

  "It makes perfect sense, Mason. Two sets of cops were killed just yards away from where you were sleeping. One person could not have done this alone. It had to have been two, and it had to be two people who knew to kill using the old military tactic of surprise and suppress," Griffin said.

  "But Chandler is in his 60s! Do you think he would team with a man 20 some odd years his junior to kill? Think about it for, Christ’s sake. Plus he hasn’t been in the office, and he never misses work," Orinda noted, but Griffin didn’t have a response. It seemed logical to him, but maybe she was right. After everything they knew, there was more to understand but in order to understand it, they could no longer wait to find more information. They needed to go to the source: the common denominator to the whole thing. Before they found Cruz, they needed to find the boss, the man who may have orchestrated the whole thing. Whether for himself, for someone else or both, they needed to find Vernon Chandler.

  They knew just how and where to find him. A trip into Delaware was necessary, and both Orinda and Detective Griffin looked forward to that. Orinda could stop by her empty place to pick up a few things; she didn’t have any plans to return home alone without Mason along. Mason welcomed this because he didn’t want to be without her either especially after wanting her for so long. After she shared herself with him, he couldn’t imagine her not staying with him to share with him regularly. Detective Griffin looked forward as well; the last time he saw Chandler was back in Vietnam. It would be good to see him regardless of the situation and then he would have the honor to arrest the body of a soulless man if he was guilty of the crimes that only stemmed from atrocities he committed decades ago.

  Chapter 18

  "You know what I’m going to do when this is all over?" Mason ventured to break the silence in the car. He, Orinda and Detective Griffin decided to travel in the same car this time enroute to New Castle. It was time to pay the boss a visit and gather more information from him regarding the Stockton case and everything else that revealed itself.

  "I’m going to do something I should have done years ago. I’m going to take some time away from the office, and I’m going to write a book about this whole thing. I’m going to write and tell the story of war, struggle and survival. I’m going to make the personal stories of those who died heard. I’m not going to do it for me even though telling these stories to you guys has helped heal me, but I will tell them because I owe the ones who aren’t here anymore the voice to speak," Mason announced as he looked over to Orinda who was driving.

  Detective Griffin was seated in the back of the cabin looking forward. He noticed that Orinda grabbed Mason’s hand and placed it on her thigh. He almost felt bad about how they first were grouped because it was obvious the two were a natural pair.

  "Good for you, Papi. I hope that you do because this is something not only Americans need to know, but I think the world needs to know as well. Some of the greatest atrocities of the world are covered up by governments, and this is one of them. Once we do get to the bottom of this, I want to take some time off, too. I’m really ready to settle down and have the family life if you know what I mean," she said as she took her eyes off the road to meet Mason’s momentarily.

  If not for the darkness of his cheeks, they would have been flushed with red. They both wanted a family, but it could be a reality after two things happened. First, they had to survive. There would be no future in tomorrow if today was your last numbered day. Secondly, they would have to commit to each other. The loyalty that comes with family can’t be abbreviated nor can the commitment of longevity be masqueraded by lust and immediate passion due to an arousal raised by being chased.

  "That’s great you both want to grow old together, start a family and profit off the next American novel, but let’s take this one step at a time. Let’s get this crazy case settled and if there is any truth to the conspiracy we believe then, by all means, tell it to the world. Until we have someone in custody, we can’t make plans. To tell a story, it needs a beginning and an end. We don’t know the end of this yet, so it’s a little premature to plan your novel’s end," Griffin said.

  He was right about it all. Mason knew this, but it still didn’t stop him from dreaming of the possibility because before all this happened, Mason never thought about his future. It never occurred to him what he would do next because he was so steadfast on erasing yesterday. He never thought about having children because he was abandoned as a child. He never thought about having a companion because he never had a love to be with and call his own. He never had a girlfriend to show him how to be with a woman, so he never had a thought of having a wife.

  He never talked about the secrets of his troubled days of military life in the jungles of Guatemala, Africa or Kosovo. It wasn’t because of the secrecy oaths that he took but more so because he had no one who would listen, but all of that now changed. The world was ready, and it needed to know his story, but then it hit him. That was his fear.

  Fear was always that one day he had to tell the story of what happened there. He was the only one out of the detail of specialized grunts who knew what happened but had a hard time to articulate himself. Not so much verbally was he able recall, but he was blessed to remember every event that took place. He could chronicle them all. Only the drive to do so was missing. Like when he returned back to the states to no family, he needed to put himself out there in order to make any progress. He would have to do the same with this. He could wait no longer until something happened to propel his greatness. Only the attempt needed to be made, but now he had something else other than misery which would allow him to harness his gift of storytelling. She was in the driver’s seat guiding them along the snow plowed roads of Delaware. There was no need to wait because she was already there and was prepared to make plans for them to be together.

  "I understand what you are saying, detective, but this is different; the roles are reversed now. We are no longer trying to figure out who’s involved. I mean, for Christ’s sake, we are driving to where not only our boss lives but to where we believe the orchestrator and accomplice to a murder is. We are now the hunters, but our mission is not to kill, only to confirm and then to arrest. We are not in the killing business. So I’m going to continue to make plans for my novel because this time being on the r
ight side of destiny will allow us to survive. You were a soldier once. You have firsthand experience in the use of future planning to concentrate your focus on the task at hand. It’s the same here. Our survival isn’t guaranteed, but that doesn’t mean we have to plan for our deaths before we are dead. Even Cruz’s world speaks truth here. I feel very uncomfortable to quote a killer, but it’s gospel. ‘To himself everyone is immortal; he may know that he is going to die, but he can never know that he is dead.’ Dying and admitting to death are totally different because only one is in our control."

  "Unless you’re a psychopath with an agenda," Orinda interjected.

  "Detective, wasn’t it you who just earlier told me to do it? You mentioned how our stories mirror each other so much and that you would do the same thing. Not everyone can tell a story even though a lot of our stories are very similar," Mason said as Orinda began to merge from the faster left lanes to the slower right in preparation for an exit off the Interstate. Their exit was approaching.

  The conversation about future plans momentarily removed her focus as they almost passed their exit. Her mind was thinking of the future instead of the now. That must have been what Detective Griffin was talking about. It was hard to concentrate on the task at hand when they were making plans as if they had already solved the murders of now three people. Then, Detective Griffin’s phone rang out from the back seat. He signaled for Mason and Orinda to pause while he answered the line.

  "This is Griffin. What do you have for me?" he said followed by a number of uh huhs and you don’t says. Mason and Orinda looked at each other both perplexed. It was a wonder who was calling and what was being said. If this was regarding the case, they felt that it was imperative for them as much to have the same information. Mason adjusted himself in his seat in hopes that it would help him more, but the closer he felt it got, he needed to be closer. Nothing worked. They were going to have to wait until Griffin was done.