What Happened to the Bennetts(65)

Bryan: How do you know Jason Bennett? Have you used his services as a court reporter?

David: Yes, and I know him from Bar Association conferences and things like that. Last month, we had a fairly long conversation. I was thinking about using him for an upcoming matter.



I remembered the talk. I had chatted him up, trying to get more business.


Bryan: Have you heard that the Bennett family has disappeared?

David: Yes, that’s why I was surprised to see him.

Bryan: Have you told the police what you saw?

David: Yes. They want me to go down to the Roundhouse and make a statement.



I groaned. So he had told the Philly police he had seen me.


Bryan: You said a Honda. Can you confirm that Bennett was driving a white Honda Civic?

David: Yes.

Bryan: Did you get the plate?

David: No, I should go—

Bryan: The Civic was following the other car at a high rate of speed, wasn’t it?

David: Yes.

Bryan: Weren’t they fleeing together, like they were in cahoots?

David: Uh, I don’t know, I don’t really want to get involved. Did you say you were—

Bryan: Isn’t it possible they were in it together? Did you know Paul Hart was having an affair with Jason’s wife Lucinda?

David: I’m sorry, what paper are you with? Are you with the Inquirer?

Bryan: Hart was cheating with Jason’s wife, so the motive is clear—

David: Bye, I have to go. Get that phone out of my face.



I clicked stop. The ante had just been upped. Krieger had blown my cover. Sooner or later, the FBI would learn that I had been at the scene. I had to assume that Dom and the FBI would connect my disappearance to the Hart hit-and-run. Any video would show I hadn’t been the one to kill Hart, but it would intensify their search for me.

I reconsidered the implications. The FBI had said that GVO was trying to kill me, since Big George believed I killed his son. Now I was wondering if that was true. And if it was, why would GVO kill Hart? And who had chased me after the funeral? It was hard to imagine who in GVO benefited from Hart’s death. Then I realized the answer:

Milo.

I reasoned it out, my heart beginning to pound. Milo was a confidential informant, and Paul Hart negotiated the cooperation agreement. That information was dangerous to know. It could get Milo killed by Big George or anybody else in GVO. So maybe Milo had decided Hart was a liability, or maybe Hart had threatened to expose Milo to Big George, after Milo had double-crossed him by killing Junior, not me.

The realization sent a shudder up my spine. The only question was how Milo would have convinced Big George to have Hart killed. As far as I knew, Big George thought of Hart as his lawyer and had even invited Hart and his girlfriend to Junior’s funeral. I couldn’t understand why Big George would have him killed the same night.

Then it struck me.

Maybe Milo had lied to Big George about Hart, like with the botched carjacking. Milo could have made up some lie that would turn Big George against Hart. Or Milo had simply gone rogue and ordered the hit-and-run.

But now what?

My mind raced. If Milo had gone rogue, there were two possibilities. Either Big George would know GVO was responsible for killing Hart because he would know that the BMW driver was one of his own guys—or Big George would be too preoccupied with Junior’s death to pay attention to a random hit-and-run in Center City, which happened to kill his lawyer. There were plenty of dark blue BMWs in the world, and the news hadn’t mentioned a plate number.

My gaze returned to the TV, but my thoughts went back to the funeral today, about Hart and the girlfriend, then about the cards I’d taken from the funeral home.

“Remy?” I called out, heading for the garage.



* * *



—

Fifteen minutes later, I was on my second cup of black coffee and my brain was in overdrive. I had retrieved the box from the funeral home, and my task lay before me on the gritty tile floor.

First was a row of cards that I had taken from the floral arrangements on the first shelf of the display, laid out in order from left to right. Second was a row of cards I had taken from the second shelf of flower arrangements, also left to right, and the top row contained only three cards, from the flower arrangements that had their own easels in the back.

I scanned a few names in the first row:

Deepest Sympathy, Rachel & Big P

Love, Sonia & Little Jimmy

Condolences, RJ

I realized I was essentially looking at the inner circle of GVO, but I didn’t know how to find out who they were. They hadn’t signed the guest book, but they’d sent the flowers, trying to score points with Big George. There were no last names on the cards, so I couldn’t look them up online, and most had only nicknames.

I sipped coffee, puzzling it out. Then it struck me that a nickname was also an alias. I reached in my pocket, pulled out my Tracfone, and logged on to the Internet. I went to the court records site, plugged in Marie’s username and password, and searched under George Veria.

Onto the tiny screen popped the caption of the most recent criminal case against Big George, and there were other defendants, since he was part of a criminal conspiracy. Five codefendants were named, and as I had known, every caption in a criminal indictment listed the defendants, as well as last known aliases.