“I was thinking we should talk about the Benson case,” Melanie said.
“Good idea. What new developments do you have to report?” Bernadette dug in her bag and pulled out a cigarette. “Hmm, when are they gonna serve the rubber chicken? I’m starting to get woozy.”
“I found out some surprising stuff about Jed Benson,” Melanie said. She’d start with the easy part, then see where it went. If Bernadette seemed receptive, maybe she would bring up the fingerprint report after all.
“Nothing you could tell me about Jed would surprise me, Melanie.”
“Really?”
“I knew Jed. He definitely had a dark side. Mmmhmm.”
Melanie had been thinking about the Bensons’ bank records, buried in the pile on her desk and just opened. They were not the bank records of an honest man. But there was something lascivious in Bernadette’s tone that made Melanie think she was talking about something else.
“You mean he was a womanizer?” Melanie guessed.
Bernadette’s drink came, and she tossed it back like a sailor. “Yeah! In a big way! He seduced me, you know.”
“Wow. No. I had no idea,” Melanie said. Boy, get Bernadette drunk and no telling what you might learn.
“We’re talking a lot of years ago now. It was a pretty tough experience for me. I’m not saying I wasn’t willing. But I was naive, and he took advantage. Nowadays I’d have a slam-dunk sexual-harassment claim.”
“Why, what did he do?”
“I’d only been on the job a few months, and Jed was the big boss. He was famous and so gorgeous. I had the worst-I mean, the worst-crush on him. I used to look up his court appearances in the calendar and then go hang around outside the courtrooms, waiting for him to come out. I was hot back then, honey, lemme tell you. Jed noticed.”
The waiter interrupted her, setting down plates of greasy chicken parmigiana slathered in runny pink sauce.
“Yuck, look at this shit. I can’t eat this.” Bernadette stubbed out one cigarette and fished in her bag for another, fumbling with her lighter, dropping it on the floor. Melanie leaned over and picked it up.
“I had no idea you were such a smoker, Bernadette.”
“Mmm, when I drink. Keep saying I’ll quit, but it’s hard because Romulado smokes, and we spend a lot of time together.” She slumped back, smoking thoughtfully, staring off into space. “So one day-one evening, actually-I was working late, and Jed just called me up and told me to report to his office. That’s it. He didn’t even give me a reason, right? I thought I was getting chosen for some big case or something. When I got there, the place was deserted, so I just walked right in. He was sitting at his desk, talking to a reporter on the telephone. I sat, and he stared at me while he finished his conversation. The way he looked me up and down, I understood right away why he’d called. You know what they call that?”
“What?” Melanie asked.
Bernadette laughed harshly. “A booty call. A goddamn booty call, right there in the middle of the office. But I fell for it-hook, line, and sinker. His eyes were the most unbelievable shade of green you ever saw, like grass in the springtime. So he gets up, locks the door. Doesn’t say a word, not even hello. What stays with me is the feeling of my skin sticking to that damn leather couch.” She dropped her chin onto her hand and sighed, her hazel eyes cloudy with drink.
“What happened after that?”
“Oh, he’d call now and then. We’d have sex. I kept thinking it would amount to something, you know? I had fantasies he’d leave his wife and marry me. Huh, was I foolish when I was young!” Her cynical laugh didn’t disguise the hurt in her eyes.
“Do you think Nell Benson knew about Jed’s other women?” Melanie asked.
“Unless she was dumb as a stone. But either she wanted to be with him that bad or else she liked the money. So tell me what you found out. You think Nell had him whacked for the insurance proceeds?” Bernadette asked.
“I can’t believe you just said that. All along you’ve been acting like the only possible answer is the retaliation theory.”
“Don’t get me wrong-I still think that’s the most likely. Romulado’s always believed that this was a retaliatory hit, and it makes sense. Jed prosecuted the founder of the Blades, Blades were involved in Jed’s murder. Ipso facto. If it quacks like a duck, it is a duck. On the other hand, Nell Benson is an evil fucking bitch, and I wouldn’t put anything past her.”
The sudden venom in Bernadette’s voice startled Melanie, and reminded her of the suspicion she’d had about Rommie and Nell. Did Bernadette suspect something as well? Tit for tat, though. After all, Bernadette had slept with Nell’s husband first. Life was too damn complicated sometimes.
“So,” Bernadette prompted, “give it up. What did you find on Jed? Some sex scandal? Blackmail photos?”
“A couple of things. Jed was sleeping with Jasmine Cruz, which creates an interesting link to Slice. Dan O’Reilly thinks maybe it’s as simple as Benson did Slice’s girlfriend, and Slice found out and did Benson.”
Bernadette laughed. “Huh, I like that. Has a nice symmetry to it.”
“I’m actually more intrigued by another affair Jed was having.” She explained about Sarah van der Vere and the wrongdoing at the Reed firm. “So I’m investigating that angle thoroughly. A shady business deal could explain some irregularities I discovered in the Bensons’ bank accounts, too.”
“What sort of irregularities?” Bernadette asked.
“Let me ask you something. Did you ever wonder where the Bensons’ millions came from? I went through their real-estate records just before we left. Do you have any idea what their holdings were?”
“Well, let’s see, the town house in the East Eighties that burned-”
“Purchased for almost six million, with two million more in renovation costs,” Melanie interrupted. “A large house in East Hampton and a horse farm in Millbrook, worth about three mill each, and a condo in Gstaad that I don’t know the value of. Oh, and a place on Mustique. Now, where did all that money come from?”
“Private practice?” Bernadette ventured skeptically.
“No way. What kind of lawyer makes that much money?”
Bernadette sat up straighter, making a visible effort to focus her bleary eyes. Melanie had her full attention now.
“I don’t know, girlfriend. You tell me.”
“I went through Jed Benson’s bank records. There was significant evidence of structuring in his account.”
“Structuring?” Bernadette echoed, her brow furrowed.
“Yes, you know, it’s a type of money laundering? Numerous cash deposits, all just under the ten-thousand-dollar reporting requirement so the authorities aren’t notified.”
“Thank you, Melanie, I know what structuring is,” Bernadette replied acidly. “How much are we talking about?”
“We’re talking about millions of dollars a year. Nearly eight million last year, for example.”
“Oh. My.” Bernadette looked suddenly green.
“What’s the matter? Are you feeling okay?”
“I’d like to believe it’s a dirty business deal, Melanie. But in my experience, money that big only comes from one place.”
Melanie thought for a moment, then realized Bernadette was right.
“Drugs,” she said. “You mean drugs.”
“Oh!” Bernadette exclaimed, but she was looking past Melanie, just over her shoulder. “Romulado! I was wondering when you would show up.”
33
FOR THE SECOND TIME IN TWO DAYS, MELANIE turned around to find Rommie Ramirez standing behind her. If he’d been listening in on their conversation, he gave no sign of it. He just smiled vaguely, as if his thoughts were elsewhere.