What Happened to the Bennetts(64)
Remy turned out to be a tall, skinny hipster with a neck tattoo of Felix the Cat. He had on a Carhartt knit cap, brown flannel shirt, wide-leg jeans, and work boots. “So what color you want?” he asked me, eyeing the Civic.
“Anything dark.” I needed it to be markedly different.
“I got black.”
“Perfect.”
“Done. Two coats takes two days.”
“I need it tomorrow morning, so one coat.”
Remy nodded. “It’s gonna cost you four hundred bucks and it’s gonna take all night. Okay?”
“Okay.”
“You can wait in my office.” Remy gestured at a dirty blue door on the side wall. “There’s a coffeemaker and a bathroom. Feel free.”
“Thanks.”
“You need a new plate?”
“Yes, thanks.”
“Anything else?”
I didn’t hesitate. “How about a gun?”
“I can’t do that.”
“You know anybody who can?”
“I might,” Remy answered, in a way that told me he did.
* * *
—
Remy’s office was barely big enough for a desk, a file cabinet, and an old wooden table that held a microwave, a coffeemaker, and a small TV playing on low volume. The desk was basic metal, its surface cluttered with invoices, parts catalogs, an old sports section, and menus from vegan restaurants. There was a no-frills bathroom at the far end, and the walls were covered with old calendars, a Van Halen poster, and a Felix the Cat clock, its plastic tail still.
I started brewing a pot of coffee, glancing at the TV screen. It was eleven o’clock, and the news was coming on. A red Breaking News banner popped onto the screen, with the chyron LAWYER DEAD IN HIT-AND-RUN. I found the TV remote and turned up the volume.
The anchorwoman was saying: “Attorney Paul Hart was killed tonight by a hit-and-run driver on Eighteenth Street, at around nine forty-five this evening. Hart was fifty-one years old, a nationally known lawyer at the Center City law firm of Lattimore & Finch. The driver was reportedly in a late-model BMW, dark blue in color. Authorities have no suspects at the present time. We will keep you posted on any developments as they occur.”
The video showed uniformed Philly cops talking with crime techs, while cruisers idled next to a black Medical Examiner’s van and a boxy white Mobile Crime Unit. Yellow crime-scene tape cordoned off the street, and a blue tent had been erected on the sidewalk in front of Colonial Towers East. Presumably Hart’s body was still there. The anchorwoman moved on to the next story, a fire at a warehouse.
Hart’s murder shook me up. I didn’t know what was going on. Hart was Milo’s and Big George’s lawyer, but he had just been killed by their organization. I was in over my head, but I wasn’t about to turn back now.
My Tracfone pinged with notifications, since I had set alerts for any related news. I slid the phone from my pocket and checked the screen. The first few were news outlets, but the last one was from Bryan Krieger’s citizen detective podcast. I clicked, and the banner blindsided me:
I SAW JASON BENNETT TONIGHT! Click here for the bombshell development!
I read on, horrified.
HUGE NEWS! The Bennett case just exploded! Lucinda Bennett’s boyfriend Paul Hart was killed by a hit-and-run driver tonight! I was THERE and so was JASON BENNETT! I saw him with my own eyes! I’m cracking this case wide open!
My mouth went dry. I hadn’t seen Krieger, but I hadn’t been looking at the crowd. I didn’t know if I would have recognized him from the website anyway. I kept reading.
I went to a political fundraiser because I wanted to ask Hart about Lucinda Bennett, after my interview with his wife Pam. I couldn’t get to him at the fundraiser for all the muckety-mucks, so I tried after, outside the building. I was walking down the street when I saw a car run him over, killing him! And guess who was driving right behind—Jason Bennett! Click below for my blockbuster interview with a bystander!
Krieger had been following Hart, and neither of us knew about the other. I clicked to listen to the podcast:
Bryan: I’m Bryan Krieger on the scene of the hit-and-run of lawyer Paul Hart, and I found an eyewitness. What is your name, sir?
David: David Fishman. My God, that was terrible! Are you a reporter?
My gut clenched. I knew David Fishman. He was a partner at Shafritz Ferguson, a law firm that used me from time to time.
Bryan: Yes, I won’t keep you, I need to get the facts.
David: I still feel so shocked!
Bryan: The man who was struck by the car was Paul Hart, a lawyer. Do you know him?
David: No, but I know of him. I’m a lawyer, too.
Bryan: Were you at the fundraiser tonight?
David: No, I was working late. My office is in the West Tower, and I was leaving the building. I came right after he had been hit. I saw him on the sidewalk and I tried to help. Oh my God, this is upsetting, I’ve never seen injuries like that!
Bryan: I heard you say, “Jason?” Why did you say that?
David: I looked over and I saw a car going past and I recognized the driver.
Bryan: And who was he?
David: Jason Bennett. I saw his face clearly in the light from the building. It’s weird because I don’t think he drives a Honda, but I got a good look at him. He was facing me as he went by.