Private Detective: BENNINGTON P.I.: A thrilling four-novel political murder mystery private detective series...

by D. W. Ulsterman

  “You plan to take Mills head on?”

  For as tough as Congresswoman Mears was, Walter Mills was a long serving D.C. fixture with his hand on most anything and everything that passed through the House of Representatives who was on the short list to be the next Speaker. Pissing him off was not something to be done lightly, though having said that, I also knew the congresswoman never struck me as a lady who didn’t prepare herself well before going into battle.

  “What I plan, Mr. Bennington is to help you and Dedra finish the job you were hired to do. You know what gets these politicians to bend as well as anyone. I’m just asking you to follow my lead, and be there for me when I need you. Can you do that for me? For Dedra?”

  She’s playing the Dedra card a lot today.

  Yeah, she was, but there was not even a hint of the congresswoman being completely sincere in doing so. I knew her love and respect of Dedra ran as deep as my own.

  “Ok, I follow your lead. Just know this congresswoman, you come into the office of Walter Mills making demands, you better have something to back it up.”

  The congresswoman hinted at a slight smile, but said nothing as the limo travelled down the all too familiar streets of my former life as a political operative, streets that seemed intent on returning me once again to the Capitol Building.

  Thirty minutes later, I sat in the expansive and meticulously furnished office of Congressman Walter Mills. The congressman entered from the on-suite bathroom of his office and strode toward the congresswoman with his just washed right hand extended in front of him. His skin was deeply tanned, offset by a full head of artificially colored brown hair that I had long suspected, was plug enhanced. His light grey suit and dark red tie gave him that much admired in D.C. appearance of a true political power player.

  “Nice to see you, Congresswoman Mears! And is that you, Frank Bennington? My god man, I thought you were dead!”

  My lip did a little sneer-smile thing as I shook the congressman’s still damp hand.

  “No, I’m still here, for now anyways.”

  Congressman Mills gave that emotionless, overly exaggerated laugh so common to politicians. It made me want to rip the artwork from the walls. It must be in a politician’s DNA, that desire to want to convince people you think they’re funny, or nice, or gosh darn it, just the most important, darling little people in the history of humankind. Oh, and remember to vote!

  “So tell me Congresswoman, what’s this all about? My staff indicated you have been very persistent in demanding a meeting, without being willing to explain what the meeting is supposed to be about! Now I don’t want to call you out for being rude, but…”

  There it was – the implied threat of a man who thinks himself far superior to the people he is talking down to. That’s another thing you pick up on when you spend as much time working in D.C. as I did. There is the always present, subtle power dynamic of Congress. It’s like one of those nature shows about a wolf pack, and how each wolf knows its place, and who it can, and can’t, bark and growl to. That’s Congress, and Mills was reminding the congresswoman she was out of her depth, and if she wasn’t careful, she’d find herself banished from the pack, likely with a few serious political bite marks left on her as reminders of her insolence.

  I sat silently across from the congressman’s brightly polished desk and waited to see how Congresswoman Mears would respond. Let me tell you, when that response came, it was easily the single most impressive display of balls on a woman I’ve ever had the pleasure of witnessing. I’m talking big, swinging from side to side brass knockers. She flat out shredded that good old boy in his office that day. My only real regret was Dedra wasn’t there to see it. Then again, maybe she was. Who knows, right?

  “You’re co-sponsoring HR 4221, Congressman Mills. You’ll announce it first thing tomorrow morning, and send word to the Health and Human Services Committee that it has your full support. I am certain that with the backing of someone as highly regarded as yourself, we should have no problem getting the bill passed and to the president’s desk by next month.”

  Congressman Mills folded his hands on his desk and attempted to appear as sympathetic as possible, though his eyes couldn’t completely mask his contempt for the congresswoman’s demands.

  “I’m sorry Congresswoman, but I have nothing to do with that particular legislation. I appreciate your high opinion of my name and influence, but I simply don’t have the time to involve myself in another bill right now. It’s election season you know.”

  Congresswoman Mears smiled and then nodded slowly, her eyes never leaving the congressman’s.

  “That’s right, it is election season. I assume you heard of the death of Bruce Morehouse? Some have indicated he was a somewhat frequent guest right here in your office. I hear Mr. Morehouse left a suicide note. He was suffering from a great deal of guilt over his role in helping certain drug companies at the expense of others. Of course, he couldn’t do so without help by others at the FDA, and sadly, members of Congress as well. It really does have all the makings of a terrible-terrible scandal, doesn’t it Congressman Mills?”

  The congressman’s face took on a reddish hue as he fought to appear composed. He flashed a toothy, recently whitened smile and then his face changed course, taking on a somber, saddened appearance.

  “Oh yes, Mr. Morehouse’s death was a terrible tragedy, and I assure you, if there were dealings involving members of Congress, we are certain to get to the bottom of it. I wouldn’t place much value in the parting words of a clearly troubled mind though, so if you’re done attempting to threaten me Congresswoman, I’d very much like you to get out of my office before I have you escorted out.”

  Congresswoman Mears tilted her head to the left as her right eyebrow rose slightly.

  “Congressman, are you attempting to suggest to me that you were not a regular and quite friendly acquaintance of the recently departed Bruce Morehouse?”

  The congressman sat silent, though the left corner of his mouth twitched several times as he waited for Congresswoman Mears to continue.

  “Good, at least you’ve shut your mouth now so you can actually listen to what I have to say congressman. Look, I know you had a cozy and likely quite profitable relationship with Bruce Morehouse. I also know that you met with both Mr. Morehouse and an FDA official by the name of Magnus Tork, who also happens to have recently died.”

  Congressman Mills sneered at the congresswoman, his voice dripping with barely contained aggression.

  “Because you killed him, you bitch! You don’t think I was informed of what happened at that hospital? You think I’m the only one? I don’t buy the story of him trying to kill you for one second! Who do you think you are, coming in to this office and making demands? You’re nothing more than a pathetic fat-faced grandmother from the backwoods of Florida! I asked you already, now I’m telling you. Get out of my office, or I call security and they haul you out by force.”

  Congresswoman Mears leaned forward, her eyes shining like a predator convinced it had just captured its next meal.

  “You met with both men just weeks before they were dead. There are witnesses who will go on record confirming this meeting. Just as there are members of congress who will state your office has been a primary opponent of HR 4221. I have to assume the corporations linked to Mr. Morehouse have been very generous political donors of yours Congressman.”

  The congresswoman paused, allowing her words to take full effect. True to his political arrogance, Congressman Mills refused to relent.

  “You can take your bullshit conspiracies and shove them up your ass Congresswoman. You even think about asking for an investigation, and I will be so inside you, your family, your friends, there’s no fucking limit to the hell I will bring down on your head. As it is, you can already kiss your political career goodbye. You’re done in D.C., lady. Now get out.”

  The sound of the congresswoman’s hand slamming down onto the congressman’s desk echoed against the walls of the offi
ce. When she removed her hand, it revealed a copy of the photograph, I had found next to the body of Bruce Morehouse showing Morehouse and the congressman arm in arm on the deck of a large yacht.

  Congressman Mills glanced down at the picture and then looked up at Congresswoman Mears, his face going from an angry red, to a quickly fading white.

  “Where did you get that?”

  I decided then it was my turn to turn up the heat, knowing exactly those things that put the fear of God into a lifetime politician’s always present need for self-preservation.

  “That’s not important, Congressman. What’s important is that we DO have it. And it would be so easy to send every media organization that photograph. Hell, why not the DOJ while we’re at it? Maybe your home state voters would like to know who Morehouse worked for, how he died, and his reasons for taking his own life.

  “See, here’s how this can play out for you. We can easily link you to two men who have just died. One killed himself, and the other was shot dead while allegedly trying to murder a member of congress who was coincidentally, trying to pass legislation that might help save a whole lot of lives. Now that story alone, might not be enough, but you see, we got that picture there, and a dead man’s suicide note, and let’s face it Congressman, we are a culture that loves a good picture and a good story, am I right? I mean really, this whole thing could just get nasty for you and right before election season? I don’t know, you might want to reconsider your refusal to co-sponsor that fast-track legislation. In fact, if I were you, I’d attach my name to it and then run on it! Show you care, right? I mean, who doesn’t want to fight cancer? And here you are, doing everything you can to help that fight along. It might just be the shining example of your entire political career Congressman Mills. Or, you sit there and continue being a stupid asshole, and leave us no choice but to drag your name through the proverbial mud.”

  I then turned to the congresswoman, who was clearly enjoying my participation in the discussion.

  Anything more to add, Congresswoman Mears?

  The congresswoman looked back at Congressman Mills with her head tilted upward and a thin smile spread across her face.

  “I think you did a very credible job of outlining exactly where the congressman stands in all of this, Mr. Bennington. I would say one more thing to you Congressman, and I do hope you really pay attention. If you don’t announce your co-sponsorship of HR 4221 first thing tomorrow morning, I WILL stomp you into oblivion. You want to piss someone off I would strongly recommend you don’t make it a grandmother.”

  Congressman Mills sat staring at the photograph for several more seconds before simply nodding his head once and looking from me to the congresswoman.

  “Ok, I’ll co-sponsor your damn bill. Staff will send out an update before end of business today. I do this, and your story goes away, right? I don’t want to be bothered with this shit again. We have a deal?”

  Congresswoman Mears stood up and nodded.

  “We have a deal Congressman, and thank you so much for your support of my bill. Make sure you show the appropriate level of enthusiasm when you announce it. I’ll be in touch. Don’t bother getting up, we can find our own way out.”

  Once we stood outside in one of the many Capitol Building hallways, the congresswoman motioned for me to follow her to her office.

  “Want a few minutes of your time Mr. Bennington, and then you’re welcome to drink the night away if you like.”

  As I walked alongside the congresswoman, I couldn’t help but feel a sense of having come home again, despite the many negative memories and sense of wasted years inside the Capitol. Maybe it was watching a member of Congress actually stand up for principle, and fight against the entrenched and corrupted powers so embodied by a man like Walter Mills. Or perhaps I was just high off the fumes of political victory, having missed those opportunities once my career as a political operative went missing.

  “You did good in there, Mr. Bennington. You did Dedra proud.”

  I placed my left hand on the congresswoman’s right shoulder and squeezed it lightly.

  “So did you congresswoman. So did you.”

  Epilogue:

  I sat thoroughly enjoying the light buzz following my first hour of drinking orders of double-Scotch and water in the comforting confines of my table at the Off the Record.

  Reg had read about Dedra’s death in the newspaper, and when delivering my first drink, took a moment to tell me he was sorry about her passing.

  “She seemed like a great lady, Frank. Tell you what, first one is on me, ok? And if you need a room upstairs to sleep it off, just let me know. We always take care of you here, am I right?”

  I offered the longtime bartender a grateful smile and then stared into the swirling contents of my half full whiskey glass as I mentally replayed the meeting inside of the congresswoman’s office before making my way to the Off the Record.

  Congresswoman Mears indicated she was both pleased and pissed at my performance at the hospital. She was happy to see Magnus Tork dead, but less than happy to have to be dealing with the repercussions of my actions.

  “The T3 Group isn’t about killing people, Mr. Bennington. We find the truth, protect it, and disseminate it to the public. We are NOT vigilantes, do you understand?”

  I nodded, still feeling a great satisfaction in ending the life of a real deal sack of shit like Tork. The world had to be a better place without that man in it. If that meant a bit more paperwork, or payoffs, or whatever else the congresswoman had to do to tie up the investigation into Tork’s death, so be it. Sometimes, a man has to do what men do – kill the assholes who do harm to your friends and family.

  “That said, Mr. Bennington, we are very pleased with the information you brought us. The formulation is now safe, and being shared with a company very willing to continue its research and development. That will happen after HR 4221 is signed into law, which should take place by the end of next month.

  “I have pushed officials at the FDA to initiate an investigation into allegations of favoritism toward certain corporations tied to medical treatment practices, Dr. Stone is cooperating with yet another investigation into Dedra’s treatment at the hospital, and we have our people outlining the pertinent details of this case to then distribute to various alternative media sources. The story will be told Mr. Bennington, and we have you to thank for that.”

  My eyes closed as I digested both the congresswoman’s criticism and her praise. Then I was reminded, yet again, that Dedra should be the one sitting here with me to hear the same.

  “Did they kill Dedra? That doctor, the hospital? Was it Tork who was making sure that happened?”

  Congresswoman Mears folded her hands in front of her and then nodded.

  “I believe so, Mr. Bennington. And that is the only reason why you are sitting in this office, and not in a jail cell. It is on my word, that the T3 Group is now willing to overlook your use of deadly force in this case.”

  I muttered a series of profanities under my breath, the hint of a headache moving across the front of my skull.

  “More damn meetings, investigations, deals? I don’t have any use for that shit. I want the people responsible for what happened to Dedra to pay! I want to put a bullet in their heads too! Dedra’s dead, Father Barnes is dead, and I’m supposed to just sit here and wait for the phone to ring to take on another assignment? To hell with that Congresswoman! I want justice! And yeah, I’ll say it – I want revenge dammit! I liked putting Tork down! It felt good! It felt right! It’s where he belongs - DEAD.”

  Silence hung between me and the congresswoman for several moments before she gave me a slight smile, her eyes communicating both concern and understanding of my own feelings.

  “I suggest you take some time off. Process what has happened, and then we’ll be in touch to see if you wish to continue working with the group. Payment for this assignment is already being processed – you should have it by tomorrow. So go get some rest, try to relax, work
through your grief, and then let’s see how you feel, ok? I will remind you that what you did in securing that formulation may end up saving a lot of lives, Mr. Bennington. We have to work within the system if we are to change it for the better. You did good. Try and take some comfort in knowing that.”