Margaret Truman's Internship in Murder

by Margaret Truman

  “For the moment, yes, but if anything develops as a result, it won’t be possible to keep her identity unknown. Tell you what, Robert. You were here and heard what she alleges. It would be best if you were to fill Zeke Borgeldt in on it.”

  * * *

  Borgeldt listened passively as Brixton related what Millie had told him and Mac. When he was finished, Borgeldt said, “It’s just hearsay, Brixton.”

  “I know that, but the kid has no reason to lie. She and Laura Bennett were close friends in college.”

  “I’m not saying that this friend is lying, but it sure as hell seems to me that Ms. Bennett was off on a wild flight of fancy where it involves Congressman Gannon.”

  Brixton didn’t argue the point with the superintendent of detectives, but he did say, “Look, maybe Ms. Bennett was projecting some fantasy to her friend. Maybe she took what was a romantic fling and built it up in her mind to something far beyond what it really was. But you’re as aware as I am, and as lots of people in this town are, that something was going on between the congressman and his intern. I’ve talked to Gannon, and you know what I think? I think he’s a liar. Can I prove it? Not at the moment. But the guy has a lot to lose if shacking up with a twenty-two-year-old intern—who also happens to be the daughter of one of his best friends and biggest supporters—goes public. Good-bye wife and kids and your cushy job in Congress.”

  Borgeldt made a few notes before Brixton continued.

  “The possibility that Gannon was sleeping with the intern is getting more and more likely, Zeke. There’s this gal, Ms. Bennett’s college buddy, who Ms. Bennett confided in about her affair with Gannon. The roommate here in D.C. says that Gannon was Laura Bennett’s ‘boyfriend.’ Laura goes for dinner to her aunt’s house in Maryland and tells her the same thing, only according to her it’s gone beyond the boyfriend stage. According to Mac Smith, Gannon’s love of the ladies is big in the rumor mill.”

  Borgeldt made another note before saying, “Let’s say it’s true that the congressman and his intern were engaged in a sexual relationship. Let’s say that Gannon is everything you and the rumor mill say he is, a lecher, adulterer, liar, cheat, all-around bad guy, the sort that makes your skin crawl if you have any sense of decency. But how does that translate into him being her killer?”

  “He sure as hell had a motive,” Brixton countered.

  “What motive? She wasn’t good in bed?”

  “Come on, Zeke, don’t play games with me. Let’s say the congressman gets tired of having to make conversation after a roll in the sack with a twenty-two-year-old. Great sex, maybe, but vapid talk. He dumps her. She gets mad and threatens to tell Mommy and Daddy and the rest of the world that he’s a dirty old man. It flashes before his eyes—his downfall, disgrace, losing his seat in Congress. His kids hate him, his wife writes a tell-all book about the lying bastard, and he becomes a homeless alcoholic living on Skid Row. Is that motive enough to get mad at his Lolita and smack her upside the head?”

  Borgeldt laughed. “Jesus, Brixton you do have a vivid imagination.”

  “But what I said could be true. No?”

  “Could be, but when’s the last time somebody was arrested and accused of murder because a PI has an imagination?”

  “Yeah, yeah, I know,” said Brixton, “but right now I have to assume that you have Gannon on your list of suspects.”

  Borgeldt’s lack of response told Brixton what he needed to know. It was true.

  “Can we make a deal?” Brixton asked.

  “What sort of a deal?”

  “You give me access to what you come up with in your investigation and I won’t release anything I uncover without running it past you first.”

  “You’re doing your own investigation?”

  “Of course I am. I’m on the Bennetts’ payroll now, along with their attorney, Mac Smith. They expect me to do some digging, which I intend to do. Believe me, Zeke, anything I turn up comes to you first. If it helps solve the case, you get all the accolades. Seems like a no-brainer to me. You’re up to your necks with more cases than this one. Me? Just consider me an extra hand.”

  Borgeldt grunted.

  “Look at it this way, Zeke. I used to work here at MPD. I put in twenty, most of it as a detective in Savannah. And I’m a licensed PI. Plus I intend to do everything I can to help my client, the Bennett family, find out who killed their daughter whether we work together or not. I don’t want to butt heads with you and your guys, that’s all.”

  “Strictly off-the-record?” Borgeldt said.

  “Strictly off-the-record.”

  “Strictly between us? No media leaks?”

  “You got it.”

  “What do you want, Brixton?”

  “Access to her address book and information you get off her laptop. She had an iPad with her in that vault. Fill me in on what your people take off that.”

  Borgeldt agreed, but added the caveat, “If you so much as mention it to anyone, even your wife, I’ll arrange for your public hanging on the Mall.”

  Brixton winced, smiled, and said, “I’ve been strung up before and didn’t like it. Not to worry, Superintendent.”

  “And anything you do regarding Congressman Gannon is on you. You’re on your own.”

  “Understood. Now, about that address book.”

  CHAPTER

  25

  After leaving MPD with names from the address book, and a short list of programmed numbers from her cell phone, Brixton returned to his office and perused the information. Millie Sparks’s name popped out at him and he dialed her cell number.

  “Ms. Sparks, it’s Robert Brixton, the private investigator working for the Bennett family.”

  “I just heard,” she said. “Is it true? Laura is dead?”

  “I’m afraid so. I’m very sorry.” He waited for her to compose herself. “Let me ask you a question. Aside from everything Ms. Bennett told you about her relationship with Congressman Gannon, did she talk about other men in her life?”

  He heard her blow her nose. “Sure. She said she’d been dating another fellow but that it wasn’t serious.”

  “Remember his name?”

  “Only because of the way she told me. She sort of sang his name because it’s Caruso, like the famous opera singer.”

  “I see. Anyone else?”

  “No, I can’t think of anyone. Mr. Brixton, do the police know who killed Laura?”

  “If they do, they haven’t told me. Thanks for the info. Hope I haven’t interrupted anything important.”

  “I’m at work, but nothing seems important, does it, now that Laura has been found dead, murdered!”

  She sniffed back tears, and Brixton ended the call with, “I know that Laura was your good friend, Ms. Sparks. I’m sorry that you’ve lost her.”

  He called the number in Laura’s address book for Matt Caruso, who answered the call on his cell in New York senator Jenkins’s office. Brixton introduced himself and asked if they could arrange to get together.

  “Yeah, I heard about Laura on TV,” Caruso said. “Terrible.”

  “Can we meet?” Brixton repeated.

  “Why? Why are you calling me?”

  “Because I know that you and the victim had a relationship.”

  Caruso’s laugh was more of a snort. “I wouldn’t exactly call it that. We knew each other, that’s all.”

  “You and Laura dated?”

  “We went out a few times.”

  “Just casual dates?”

  “Yeah. Look, you said that you’re a private investigator working for Laura’s family. That’s fine, but why talk to me? I don’t know anything about what happened.”

  “I’m not saying you did. But Laura is a homicide victim. The police are working to find the murderer and so am I. Buy you a drink after work, a cup of coffee?”

  “I have nothing to say except that I’m sorry what happened to Laura.”

  “Suit yourself, Mr. Caruso. I’m sure the police won’t be as flexible a
s I am.”

  The click in his ear caused Brixton to hold the phone at a distance.

  His next call was to Gannon’s chief of staff, Roseann Simmons. After going through his usual introduction, he said, “I spoke with the congressman at his apartment and told him that I wanted to meet with you.”

  “Who are you again?”

  “Robert Brixton, investigator for Laura Bennett’s family. The congressman said that you had a close relationship with the interns in your office. Since Ms. Bennett was an intern, it makes sense for me to ask you questions about her life both in and out of the office.”

  “The police have contacted me for an interview.”

  “I’m sure they have, but that doesn’t pose a problem. The police know that I’m also investigating Ms. Bennett’s death and it’s fine with them. Can we meet, Ms. Simmons?”

  “Yes, all right. I just got back last night from Tampa and I’m a little behind at the office. Can you come here, and can we make it quick?”

  “Sure, we’ll make it quick, and anytime you say.”

  “In an hour?”

  “I’ll see you then.”

  Brixton met with Mac Smith and told him of his calls to Matt Caruso and Roseann Simmons.

  “Caruso wasn’t cooperative?” Mac asked.

  “Not at all. Makes you wonder. Ms. Simmons seems nice enough. I’m meeting her at the congressman’s office in an hour.”

  Brixton also filled Mac in on the deal he’d struck with Superintendent Borgeldt.

  “I’m not surprised that he’d cooperate with us,” Smith said. “Zeke Borgeldt gives all cops a good name.”

  Brixton handed Mac the information he’d taken with him from MPD headquarters.

  “I’ll go through these,” Mac said.

  “Where are the Bennetts?” Brixton asked.

  “At the hotel, but Grace will be going back to Tampa for a few days. There’s nothing she can do here. She wants to meet with Congressman Gannon. She’s convinced that he knows something about her daughter’s death.

  “She’s right,” Brixton said flatly.

  “About Gannon?”

  “Yeah. As far as I’m concerned, he knows what happened to her.”

  “That’s a pretty serious charge, Robert, without something to back it up.”

  “And that’s what I intend to do, Mac, back it up. I’d better head over to Gannon’s office. I’ll check in with you when I get back.”

  Brixton expected Roseann Simmons to be older than she appeared to be. He pegged her in her midthirties, taller than the average woman, attractively slim, her blond hair shoulder length and with lots of sheen, and a nicely formed face anchored by a lovely smile—when she chose to display it. She led him through an outer office where a dozen people worked. Gannon’s press aide, Cody Watson, was one of them and gave Brixton a casual wave of the hand. They went into a small conference room. Roseann shut the door and they took seats at the oblong table.

  “I must admit that I’ve never met a private investigator before,” she said.

  “Your lucky day, huh?” Brixton said. “I really appreciate you finding time for me.”

  “It’s the least I can do to help. I couldn’t believe it when I heard that Laura was dead, had been murdered.”

  “That’s the preliminary finding, only there doesn’t seem to be any doubt. She was found in what’s called the Public Vault at the Congressional Cemetery. I never even heard of it.”

  “She was murdered there?”

  “Hard to say. If I were guessing I’d say she was killed somewhere else and her killer took her there to hide the body, which means that whoever did it knew that cemetery pretty well. Ever been there?”

  She hesitated before saying, “Once or twice. Went for a walk through it. How can I help?”

  “Well, according to Congressman Gannon, you were the person here in the office closest to the interns, and I assume that includes Laura Bennett.”

  “I knew Laura as well as I knew the others, which doesn’t mean that we were close. Interns come and go. Some stay in Washington in governmental jobs, but they’re a minority. I don’t think that Laura had aspirations to stay once her internship was over. She came to work in the morning, did her job, and left in the evening.”

  “What did she do in the evening?”

  Simmons laughed. “I haven’t the slightest idea,” she said.

  “No idea at all?” Brixton said.

  She shook her head.

  “Never went out for a drink with her, dinner, that sort of thing?”

  “No. Do you find that strange?”

  “Yeah, I do. People who work together usually get together after work, down a few drinks, get to know each other better on a personal level.”

  “That may be true in other offices, but it doesn’t apply here. Next?”

  That she’d gotten her back up wasn’t lost on him.

  “Okay,” he said, “so you didn’t spend time after hours with her, but what about when you both were here working? She never said anything about what she did the night before, who she saw, you know, some terrific guy she met?”

  Another shake of the head. “We’re very busy here, Mr. Brixton. Congressman Gannon keeps a hectic schedule that has everyone on their toes. There isn’t time during the day for office gossip, if that’s what you’re referring to.”

  “No water cooler rumors being passed.”

  “Exactly.”

  “You say that the police will be interviewing you.”

  “That’s right. We’re in the process of setting up a time and place.”

  “Anybody here in the office have a problem with Ms. Bennett?”

  “A problem?”

  “You know, someone she didn’t get along with, who had a grudge against her.”

  “No.”

  She cast a furtive glance at her watch.

  “Just a couple more questions, Ms. Simmons. This is a little sensitive, but I’m sure you’ll understand why I have to ask it. There are rumors around town that Ms. Bennett and the congressman might have been having an affair.”

  She stared at him.

  “Have you heard those rumors?”

  “Yes, I have, but those rumors are generated by the congressman’s enemies who want to see him become a former congressman.” Her face hardened as she leaned across the table. “If you are insinuating that Congressman Gannon might have had anything to do with Laura Bennett’s death—anything!—then I suggest that this little get-together is over.”

  “Hey,” Brixton said, holding up a hand as a shield against her words, “I’m not even suggesting that they did have an affair. But this young woman has been murdered and dumped in some vault to rot. The congressman seems like a nice guy and all, but every avenue has to be followed, no matter how upsetting it might be. And if you don’t think that the police are going to be asking these same questions, you’re very mistaken.”

  She backed off a bit. “It’s just that the notion that Congressman Gannon would become involved with an intern in his office is simply unthinkable. You do know that her parents are close friends of the congressman.”

  “I know that, Ms. Simmons. Thanks for your time, ma’am. If anything develops that causes me to want to talk to you again, I’ll call.”

  “That will be fine.”

  He followed her from the conference room and through the work area to the entrance to the office. As they shook hands and said their good-byes, Brixton saw Cody Watson get up from his desk and headed in their direction. Brixton went through the door into the hallway and paused. Seconds later the door opened and Watson came through it.

  “Mr. Brixton,” the press aide said.

  “Yeah.”

  “I knew that you were having a meeting with Roseann,” Watson said.

  “We had a nice chat,” Brixton said.

  “I wondered if we could find some time to get together.”

  “Sure. You name it.”

  “Don’t misunderstand. It’s just that—�
��

  The door opened and Roseann Simmons stood there. “Did you forget something, Mr. Brixton?” she asked.

  “No.”

  “Back in a minute,” Watson told Roseann as he headed for a door with the sign MEN.

  Brixton started walking in the opposite direction toward the elevators. He glanced back, saw that Roseann had returned into Gannon’s office complex, turned and entered the men’s room, where Watson stood at a urinal.

  “Figured I’d go before I hit the road,” Brixton said brightly. “My mother always told me not to wait when there was a men’s room handy.”

  “I’d like to talk to you,” Watson said.

  “Sure. Anytime. What’s it about?”

  “About Laura Bennett.”

  “How about right now?” Brixton said.

  “It’s not a good time,” Watson said.

  Or place, Brixton thought.

  Brixton handed him his business card. “Give me a call,” he said. “I’ll meet with you any time and place you say.”

  Watson kept glancing at the door.

  Brixton washed his hands. “Another thing my mother always made sure I did,” he said. “I had an uncle who washed his hands before and after. He went to some Ivy League school and—”

  “I’ll call you,” Watson said, and was gone.

  CHAPTER

  26

  Brixton wished that he and Cody Watson could have had their conversation then and there. The press aide had said that he wanted to talk about Laura Bennett. What a tease. Brixton’s initial reaction to Watson when they’d met at Gannon’s apartment was predicated on Brixton’s visceral feelings about press aides and all PR people in general. Cody’s job was to make the congressman look good even when he was doing bad things. Was that why he wanted to talk to Brixton, lay on him a list of achievements his boss had accomplished on behalf of the American people? If so, Brixton wasn’t interested.

  But did he know about any personal relationship Laura might have had with the congressman, and would he share it? Maybe Watson had a bone to pick with Gannon, had been slighted or abused in some way and was looking to get even. In that case, Brixton was all ears.

  Flo was reading that day’s edition of The Washington Post when Brixton returned to the office.