Benson & Bennett

The Poor and the Hungry

by Will Novey

Chapter 1:

He sat in the heavy oak wood chair, his coat draped over the curved back, sleeves hanging bitterly down to his waist, his legs placed delicately between the chaos of papers and folders scattered across his desk, the desk resembling the ruins of an epic skirmish, his dark eyes staring vacantly at the moonlit shadows crawling across his bare paneled floor, cigarette hanging loosely in his mouth, glass of whisky resting steadily in his hand. He sucked on the cigarette bringing a surge of fire into his lungs, the tip of the cigarette inching towards his face, illuminating it slightly with a soft ember warmth. A plume of smoke slipped out the side of his mouth, drifting across the windows like clouds over a full moon on a cold crisp night.

No sound, no movement, only the tension of his weary mind pulsing against the clammy furrows on his forehead.

A timid knock came from the door interrupting his focused trance.

He moved none and withdrew his voice from the deep smoky inferno within his lungs, letting out a dispassionate, “What is it?”

A tall slender woman opened the door and stepped in, her strides quick, precise and overly formal like a well-oiled machine, her dirty blonde hair still as a reptile on a rock.

“Sir there is a woman here to see you, a Mrs. Bennett. She says she knows you.”

The man stirred and looked up at the woman’s firmly composed face.

“Mrs. Bennett, really?” The man said as he removed his feet from the desk, leaning forward to both place his glass down on a pile of documents and smash his cigarette repeatedly into a crowded ashtray. “Please, send her in.”

The blonde stepped out leaving the door open, light from the other room piercing the darkness with a solid angelic beam.

Emerging at the doorway came the silhouette of Mrs. Bennett, standing erectly, thick pea coat covering her down to her knees where her thin black stockings became visible revealing long slender legs, a purse dangling around her wrist where her other hand was nervously clawing viscously into her soft pale skin. She took a feeble step forward revealing her face below the nose. Her moist maroon lips softly whimpered out, “Oh , James!”

James stood up cautiously, switching on a lamp, and squinted anxiously at Mrs. Bennett. Her pale face, now illuminated, displayed a dreadful anguish and hopelessness as if she were to drop dead amidst a heroic excursion. Her dark eyes were coated in a lens of tears, black eye shadow trickling down her white cheeks like cracks on a statue, destined to crumple.

James looked up at her squinting his eyes with a curious look.

“Jesus Marge, you look like a used tissue after a bad cold?” James said as he walked over and gripped her timid shoulders tenderly.

Mrs. Bennett broke out a choked sob and dove her face deep into James’s chest, gripping his back fiercely like a scared child grips their mother at the circus.

“He’s done it now James!” she wailed out. “Oh he’s done it now! He always told me not to worry, not to panic, oh James I can’t take it! Not again!”

“Marge look at me, I can't help you if you don't tell me what's up.” He said shaking her violently, gripping her cheek between his palms, thumb gently lifting tear drops, tilting her face up, looking deep into her eyes, those eyes like a black hole, sucking every bit of warmth from his hands, slowly seeping from his heart, a heart already void of such warmth.

“Marge what’s wrong? why are you here!” he shouted.

“He’s dead!”

The room was empty of sound or change, James still standing with her cheeks in his fingers, cheeks soft and moist from the steady flow of tears, Mrs. Bennett still looking up into his eyes which reflecting her face, displaying only misery, a feeling in which numbed both their bodies like ice on a wound.

“Roger’s dead.” She whispered, her eyes widening as if it was the first time acknowledging it, muscles relaxing, head looking away into nothingness, knees giving in.

“Marge!” James shouted as he caught her limp body, arms under her shoulders, hands on her back, lifting her like an enormous rag doll. “Marge what happened!”

She didn’t hear him, her eyes showed a vacant mind and her skin cold blood. He slapped her lightly on the check repeating, “Marge…Marge!”

She tilted her head slightly and looked at him with distant eyes, “He’s dead. He’s really dead.”

Her eyes went blank as her head slowly rolled back, hanging off her neck as if loosely taped on.

James carried her to a red pinstriped sofa and gently laid her down, placing a pillow underneath her head. She slowly reached at the pillow with her thin fingers and hugged it toward her face, sobbing carelessly into the unrequited love of the cushion.

James stood there for a moment watching over her trembling body. He went and shut the door, then walked over to his desk and sat down, turning the chair towards the sofa so he could watch her with sturdy eyes as she cried hysterically into his furniture. He instinctively felt for a cigarette in his left chest pocket, forgetting his carton was sitting lonely on his desk, open with two sticks hanging loosely. He reached down and grabbed one, sticking it in his mouth and lighting it with a smooth flow of motions. He took a heavy drag of the thick smoke then released it into the still air, staring absent-mindedly at the sobbing woman.

He grabbed the other cigarette, slowly stood up and walked over to Mrs. Bennett, tapping her lightly on the shoulder. She gazed up from the pillow, her eyes and cheeks smudged with makeup, snot, and tangled hair, her hands still gripping the pillow securely.

James held out the cigarette and she took it from him, holding it gently between her index and middle finger. She placed it in her wet lips and he lit it, watching her as she sucked thirstily at the paper.

“Are you gonna tell me what happened or am I supposed to guess?” He said firmly.

She took another long drag of the cigarette before answering, “Roger is dead.” She said shaking her head slowly.

“How did he die?”

She turned her head away from her cigarette and looked James in the eyes.

“He was murdered.”

Chapter 2:

James Benson and Roger Bennett were sitting in their office at 348 Brunston Ave. when a young woman, soaked from the pouring rain outside, stormed in looking fierce and dejected.

“Cops!” she hollered accusingly at the two men, “I hate them.”

They both just raised their eyes and grinned.

“For the last month I have dealt with so many god damn cops I’d go crazy if one were to so much as give me a ticket. All they do is sit around asking stupid questions, eating all my food, drinking my coffee, defiling my house with their putrid smell!”

Benson and Roger stared at her questioningly, waiting for her fulmination to continue. When realizing she was done, Benson replied slickly,

“well you seem to have a pretty good idea of what you don’t want ms….”

“Canton.”

“Ms. Canton, so what is it me and my partner can do for you?

“My brother!” She said hastily, “He was murdered. I know he was murdered and I know who did it”

“And you’ve told this to the police?” Bennett asked.

“Of course I told the police! But those dimwitted apes dropped the case like it was nothing. They called it suicide! Suicide!” she repeated, “As if my brother could ever do something so horrendous.”

“Suicide eh? Who do you think did it?” asked Benson coolly.

Ms. Canton turned and looked at Benson with piercing eyes, “His wife. She did it, I know she did.”

“why do you think she did it?”

Ms. Canton hesitated, “I don’t know why, but it must have been her.”

“Ms. Canton why don’t you sit down and make yourself comfortable.” Bennett asked politely. Bennett was always much more polite to people than Benson.

She opened her eyes wide taking an authoritative stance,

“Before I sit I wanna know you’ll take the case.”

Her eyes were fierce and confident like a commander over his army.

Benson and Bennett made eye contact one more time, confirming their decision; they both knew the answer.

“Ms. Canton we will most certainly take your case.” Bennett said eloquently with an encouraging smile, his voice loud and solid like an actor on stage, “you have nothing to be concerned about.”

Ms. Canton flushed slightly and smiled, “Thank you. Oh thank you both so much. Really this means so much to me I can’t even begin to tell you-“

“That’s great,” interrupted Benson, “Now what can you tell us about your brother? He have any enemies? Owe money, bad arguments? I want everything.”

Ms. Canton was taken aback slightly from the comment as though it never crossed her mind.

“W-well, no. None that I knew of. Victor was a good man. He did nothing but help his community and give love to his family and friends.”

“C’mon…you’re telling me he was an angel? Everyone’s got problems and considering he’s dead, I think it’s fair to assume he had big problems.”

“Well you’re wrong!” She said, her voice elevating with a righteous retort, “He was a kind and reasonable man. It’s only a shame that he wound up with such an awful woman. “

“yes…tell me about Mrs. Canton-“

“Don’t you give her our name! Her very existence defiles it. Her name is Till. Lily Till, and she is a murderous raven of a woman.” Ms. Canton’s face flushed red as she wrinkled her nose in disgust.

“Ok, I’m sorry.” Benson said halfheartedly with a playful smile, “please…tell me about- Ms. Till.”

Ms. Canton straightened up, looking uncomfortable, like a kid ready to give a presentation in his worst class.

“Lets see…they met about a year ago. Victor was just finishing up his law degree and she was waiting at a café down on Parker St. Victor came in to the café frequently to study, so of course that money hungry woman didn’t fail to pick up the fact that here was young man carrying around enormous text books with “Law” printed in big letters, and that meant money. Oh, he just arrived in a neat little package for her.”

Benson turned to Bennett and rolled his eyes.

“Ms. Canton,” Bennett interrupted, “Not to be rude, but if you could leave out the less urgent details it would make our job a little easier.”

She took a quick breath in, feeling embarrassed. If the comment had been made in a ruder manner, without Bennett’s settling smile, she might have been offended, but instead she nodded in agreement.

“Well anyways…Lily and Victor were married about a month after their meeting, her, expecting to live in luxury as a lawyer’s wife, him, hoping to be a servant of good and justice.”

“Cut the noble bull!” Benson interrupted dryly. “It’s driving me nuts.”

Ms. Canton opened her mouth in shock,

“How dare you speak to me so rudely! Who do you think you are, you-you pig! You undignified animal! You-should be ashamed of yourself for such disrespectful behavior! You know I can find other, more polite, men to take this job.”

“Yea and I bet you they come up with the same nonsense those apes at the station got. Now if you want this case solved why don’t you give us the facts and give em straight, otherwise I don’t know what information to trust and who to suspect. With what you’ve given me so far I don’t know if I should start with your brother’s wife or the tooth fairy!”

Ms. Canton stared at Benson with injured eyes, then turned to Bennett who gave her an apologetic nod followed by a hand gesture for her to continue. She let out a defeated sigh and turned back to Benson.

“Ok you want facts? Here ya go. My brother failed to take his degree anywhere, ending up a simple community organizer. I found his work to be noble and selfless, so don’t think he didn’t work for good.”

Benson nodded his head uninterestedly and rolled his wrist, gesturing her to keep going. She grimaced then continued,

“Well as you can imagine money was tight for both of them but he never complained. She on the other hand whined incessantly about all the petty luxuries she was so wrongly deprived of. Constantly badgering my brother about wanting this and that, oh she never stopped. It was absolutely terrible.”

“Near the end of his life he confessed to me how much he detested her and regretted his ever marrying her and that’s why I believe she killed him. I believe he wanted a divorce and when she found out she just lost it.”

She looked up at the two men, tears flowing freely from her desperate eyes.

“We couldn’t even hold an open funeral for him… I couldn’t even kiss his gentle cheeks good-bye.”

Ms. Canton ended in a burst of uncontrolled tears. Bennett walked over to her to give comfort.

There was a long mournful silence and stiffness in the room. Bennett handed a sallow handkerchief to the sobbing Ms. Canton while Benson stared at the floor bemused, thinking over the problem set before him, his hand clenched in a fist, resting sturdily under his chin, his other arm folded under his shoulder, the overall scene depicting the air of a philosopher, mulling over some profound theory.

After a long pause, silent, except for the sounds of the enduring storm outside, Benson shook his head saying,

“No.”

Ms. Canton and Bennett, whom was patting her on the back tenderly, looked up at Benson in confusion and anticipation.

“No? No what?” Ms. Canton asked softly.

“No… that’s not what happened.” Benson said, still looking down at the floor, deep in thought.

“What do you mean that’s not what happened?” Ms. Canton said, her voice shrill, “What, do you think I’m lying? That I made the whole story up? You have some nerve Mr. Benson. I should just-”

“Can it!” Benson said firmly, interrupting Ms. Canton. She stopped immediately looking shocked, but intrigued.

“ Hey…James, don’t you think you’re being a little too hard on her?” Bennett said protectively.

“Thank you.” Added Ms. Canton, looking at Bennett with grateful eyes.

Benson got up, coolly waving his hands in a crisscross motion.

“I’m not calling you a liar.” Benson said assuredly, “But something doesn’t add up. Why’d she kill him if he had no money? ” Benson shook his head, “No…she didn’t kill him over a divorce…”

“Well, then why did she kill Victor?” She demanded indignantly, “If she didn’t kill him over a divorce? Why in Gods name did she?”

Benson turned his head up and looked at Ms. Canton with a cool smile,

“Well sweet heart…that’s what we plan to find out.”

* * *

The two men stood outside the large shabby apartment building, the cool wind whipping their faces, beads of water stinging their cheeks like grains of sand. This was the address, Ms. Canton had informed them they would find Mrs. Canton, or Lily Till, or whatever you want to call her.

The building looked as if it had been hit by a terrible hurricane. It was completely neglected of repairs, it’s beige paint torn off in large clumps revealing wet rotting wood like the skeleton of a burn victim. The front door was splintered at the knob, obviously broken many times, the window looking into the entrance, cracked and foggy.

“Well, if Mr. Canton didn’t commit suicide,” commented Benson, “He should have. Living in a dump like this it’s no wonder the cops gave up so quick.”

“To think this man had a law degree…” added Bennett, shaking his head dejectedly, “Must have been some community organizer.”

“The only thing organizing this community is the soup kitchen and a warm fire in a trash can.” said Benson slyly.

An old woman wearing a threadbare jacket and a beret, covering her clumpy gray hair, came up to the front door of the building, digging through her handbag for her key, a bag of groceries clenched between her elbow and waste.

“Excuse me ma’am, let me help you with that.” Benson said running over to the woman, lifting the groceries from her arm seconds before they would have slipped on to the wet ground.

“Oh, thank you.” The women crackled out in her dry, raspy, kind voice.

“It’s no problem ma’am.” Benson said with a warm well-practiced smile.

“What are two fine young men like yourselves doing in a place like this?” The woman said with a soft smile as she inserted the key into the lock. Her face went grave and she turned her head looking at Benson over her hunched shoulder. “You’re not rent collectors are you?”

Benson cleared his throat, “No ma’am we’re not rent collectors. I’m private detective James Benson and this is my partner Roger Bennett.” He said nodding his head at Roger who tipped his hat courteously to the old woman.

“Oh my,” She said, sounding sorry but not surprised, “Are you here about Mr. Canton’s suicide?”

“Yes, did you know Mr. and Mrs. Canton?”

“Yes…” she said shaking her head, “Such a tragedy…Mr. Canton was such a nice young man. He used to come over to my place with hot soup and play cards with me. Such a good man.”

“He would play cards with you? Did Lily Canton ever play?”

Her eyebrows lowered considerably, as if contemplating a hard question.

“Yes sometimes. But she was no fun to play with. She always wanted to bet money and play casino games.” Her face hardened, “Can you believe it? Wanting to gamble with an old woman like myself, I just didn’t get it. I was much happier when Mr. Canton came alone.”

The woman opened the door and all three stepped in. The inside was just as cold, but there was no wind, only still air and a damp, dusty floor. They began climbing a flight of stairs, the woman in front leading at a sluggish pace.

“Would you men like to come up for some tea? I could use the company.” She said with a chuckle.

“We would love some Ms...”

“Donald.”

“Ms. Donald.” Said Bennett with a smile.

“Oh that’s wonderful,” she said, “You boys don’t play cards do you?”

“Oh we really can’t stay for that long, but tea sounds wonderful.”

They came to apartment thirty-six. The woman slid the key into the lock. Benson looked over at apartment thirty-seven.

“So you three were neighbors?”

“What? Oh yes. Victor and Lily Canton lived right there.” She said looking at the door of apartment thirty-seven.

They stepped into the woman’s room. She immediately went over to her kitchen and began boiling a pot of water. The room, for such a dumpy building, was surprisingly nice. She had warm colorful furniture with paintings of plants and animals covering the walls. There was a painting of a squirrel holding an acorn to its mouth, concealing a hole in the wall, cracks scattering from the frame like a blood shot eyeball.

The woman came back holding two cups of tea.

“Thank you.” Both men said taking the cups, the heat dissolving through their hands. Bennett put his cup, along with his pen and notebook, down on a shelf featuring a collection of porcelain birds.

She went back into the kitchen to grab her cup.

“I’m sorry I can’t offer you milk or honey, but I haven’t been able to afford any in some time. I prefer the pure taste of the herbs anyways.”

“It’s quite alright.” Bennett said politely.

“When was the last time you saw Mr. Canton?” asked Benson.

The woman paused briefly then answered, “well…it was the night of his death actually. He came in with a cup of a soup as usual and then we played a round of gin.”

“Did he seem at all… upset or anxious to you?”

“Well yes actually. He had just gotten into a big argument with Lily. It was over money.” She said shaking her head as if money were the most meaningless thing to exist. “I could hear the whole thing through the walls. I tried not listen, but these walls don’t hide a pin drop three floors up.”

“What was Lily saying?”

“Just how she hated living here and how she wanted more. She really complained a dreadful amount. Though I must say he had his fair share of grievances.”

“Such as?” Benson pushed her on.

“Oh well, he tried so very hard to make something of himself, but was never given a break. He tried to get programs for the elementary school down the street established, but the school didn’t have the money, and no one in this neighborhood had any money to spare for donations.”

“That’s unfortunate.” Bennett said sympathetically.

“Oh indeed it was. He was such a kind man. He tried everything to help people. I remember once he took in a homeless man for a weekend once during a terrible storm. The man would have died had he slept outside in the cold.”

“Well that was kind of him.” Bennett said agreeably.

“Yes it was…but unfortunately that man robbed Mrs. Canton of all her jewelry.”

Benson cocked an eyebrow and shook his head.

“This of course crushed Mr. Canton.” She continued, “He only tried to help that man…such a shame.”

“You said the two of them got into a big argument?” Benson said.

“Yes.”

“What did Mr. Canton say?”

She twitched her mouth a little, “Well I’m sorry to say he shouted back a fair deal. I don’t blame him…but it’s just so unpleasant to hear such a good man use such an angry tone.”

“What did he say?”

“Oh he just shouted at her for being so selfish and always wanting things, though he would apologize shortly after. I tried not to listen.”

“Did he say anything that stood out?”

She thought about it for a moment.

“Well he gave her quite a mouth full about how she sold her wedding ring and that if she wanted more out of life, she should stop spending so much time at the casinos.”

“Wedding ring eh? That must have been worth a nice chunk,” said Benson, grinning casually.

“You mentioned casinos?” Bennett asked curiously.

“Oh yes. Mrs. Canton spends a lot of time at casinos. I told you whenever we played cards, she wanted to gamble.”

“Interesting.” Benson said meeting Roger’s eyes, “So after the argument Mr. Canton came in here?”
“Yes we played a game of gin. I won,” she said with a smile. “He was very distracted at the time as you can imagine. I sometimes wonder if it was on my couch that he began thinking about suicide. He seemed so depressed at the time,” her smile fading into a mournful grimace

“Did he say anything to you? Anything that might have hinted at his actions.”

“Oh he said a lot of things…I’d prefer not to repeat some of them.”

“I understand.” Benson said kindly while Bennett picked up his notepad and began scribbling hastily, “Can you give us a few things he said?”

“Well it was not very pleasant, that’s for sure.” She shook her head sullenly, “He kept saying, “I don’t know what to do…I just don’t know what to do?” and at times he was crying.” She said sourly, “A grown man shouldn’t cry. It was clear he was very upset.”

“Anything else? Anything out of character?”

“No…that was it, really. When the game was over he left without saying a word. I thought it very rude at the time, but then again, he was quite troubled.”

“And then he went back to his room?”

“Yes.”

“What did you hear after that?”

She licked her lips and fiddled wit her hands a little, “Well nothing for a bit. I don’t think they were talking to each other, that is Mr. and Mrs. Canton. And then after a while, I was sitting in my chair reading when I heard the gunshot.”

“Anything after the gunshot?”

“No…just Mrs. Canton calling the police.”

“That’s all? You sure that’s everything you heard. Nothing between the gun shot and Mrs. Canton calling the police?”

“Yes I’m sure. I may be old, but one doesn’t forget a night like that one. Maybe…thirty seconds after the gun shot I could hear Mrs. Canton on the phone, calling the police.”

Benson and Bennett looked at each other inquisitively, possibly because they found something amusing in what Ms. Donald said, or because they heard steps coming from the room next door, or perhaps because their tea desperately needed some sugar and milk, either way, Benson and Bennett tipped their hats to Ms. Donald, thanking her for her time and tea, then stepped out of room thirty-six, walking over to room thirty-seven.

* * *

As the two men approached room number thirty-seven, a number of things stood out in their minds. For one, the door was wide open. Two, the entire apartment was bare of any furniture except for a single antique wardrobe. Three, the wardrobe was being carried out of the apartment by two large men, and four, a much smaller and finely dressed man, was handing the widow, Lily Canton, a large sum of cash.

“Well Lily, it has been a pleasure doing business with you.” Came the rather squeaky voice of the finely dressed man, “you take care of your self.”

“Like I have a choice.” Came the bitter, resentful voice of Lily Canton.

Benson and Bennett stepped aside allowing the two men carrying the wardrobe, along with the small squeaky voiced man, to get through, leaving Lily alone in the empty room with nothing but her clothes.

She looked dazzling, the kind of dazzle you’d expect from a cheap showgirl in Las Vegas. She wore a glittering emerald dress that cut off above her knees, exposing her pale legs. She had long fake fingernails painted hot red, the same color as her uneven lip stick. Her solid black hair hung straight down to her shoulders, her eyes were drenched in too much eye shadow and her cheeks as pink as a pig’s bottom.

She looked over at the two men, her hand on her hip, eyes looking bored and haughty.

“One of you got a cigarette?”

Benson walked over to her, coolly handing her a cigarette. She took it and stuck it firmly between her lips, smearing red lipstick over the beige filter. He struck a match with a snap of his fingers and held it out towards her face. She leaned in letting the flames swallow up the tip of the cigarette, her inviting eyes looking up at James. She turned her head up and blew out a steady stream of smoke, then spoke.

“What can I do for you boys?”

Benson put the matches in his pocket then tilted his chin up.

“You Mrs. Canton?” he asked calmly, his eyes scanning over her face for any sign of discomfort.

She looked up into his eyes with a steady, cool gaze and took another puff of her cigarette.

“I used to be.”

Benson smiled.

“I’m detective Benson and this is my partner detective Bennett. We’d like to ask you some questions about your husband-”

“Late…husband” She corrected him with a distasteful look.

“Yes well, we were just wondering if you could fill us in on what happened from your point of view.”

She cocked one eyebrow, “Is there any other point of view I should know about?”

“Only one.” Benson said with a grin, “and you don’t hear his side till you’re six feet under.”

She grinned and took in another suck of smoke.

“My husband came home that night tired and depressed over the failure of his career. He was in his office when I heard the gun go off. I immediately ran in and found him slumped over his desk, big hole through his head, gun in his hand.” She paused, “I could still see smoke comin out of the barrel.”

She took a long drag on the cigarette then blew the smoke out casually.

“Did he say anything to you when he got home?”

“He said a lot to me…” She said raising her eyebrows mockingly, “Where do you want me to start?”

“The beginning sound good?”

“Sure…” she took in some fire before continuing, “He came home and asked me how my day was. As if he cared…” She smiled, “I told him it stunk. He asked me why and I told him cause I’m still married to a dead beat loser who couldn’t buy a hat to cover his balding head.” She opened her mouth letting thick plumes of smoke waft out. She sucked the smoke back in through her nostrils like an upside down tornado, her eyes still bored and resentful.

“That’s not a very nice thing to say to your husband.” Benson said with a grin.

She turned to him and gave a malicious smile, “What can I say?” She said innocently, “I’m an honest girl.”

Benson chuckled at that, “So what’d he do next? He give you a good smack?”

She tried to hold back a laugh cause she had smoke in her lungs, but she couldn’t help it. She coughed a little, making an unattractive gurgling noise in her nose, then composed herself with a smile.

“My husband?” eliciting a giggle, “Hit me?” Her hand held to her breast, fingers extended out, long fake lashes fluttering. She let out a forced chortle, then she cocked a brow and tightened her lips, “He wouldn’t dare…”

“No? Why’s that. He afraid of something?”

She laughed again, “afraid of something? Victor? Ha!” She cocked her head up, “There wasn’t a whole lot he wasn’t afraid of…it’s why he never made anything out of himself, he had no spine. A five year old could have bossed him around.”

“You don’t seem to have a lot of respect for your husbands business.” Benson added sarcastically.

She didn’t find it funny. Her eyes went cold and spiteful.

“I don’t know what you’ve heard about my husbands “business”, but I’ll fill you in.” She took a long drag on the cigarette. “My husband, the man with the degree, worked-at-a-soup kitchen.”

Benson held back a grin, but gave Bennett an “I told you so look”.

“You think that’s funny don’t you.” She said wrinkling her nose, “Well it aint! Their aint nothing funny about being married to a soup jockey.”

Benson struggled to straighten his face, “I’m sorry ma’am, no there isn’t.” he looked at the floor, composing himself, “Is there anything else you two talked about that night?”

She was clearly tired of the conversation, but complied anyways,

“Yea…he gave me crap for pawning my wedding ring.”

He raised his eyebrows questioningly, “Did you think it was wise to sell the ring?”

She snickered, “Well it wasn’t wise to marry the guy, so I didn’t see any harm in it.”

“I see…what did you do with the money?”

She gave a quick grimace then answered, “I survived. That’s what I did with it.” She paused and let out a faint sigh, “Now, can I ask you a question detective?”

“Sure.”

She turned and looked at him from a tilted head, “Who hired you?”

Benson stirred a bit, “I’m sorry but I don’t reveal any information about my clients.”

She smiled, “Don’t bother, I can guess. Ms. Canton?” She shook her head, “She’s always had it in for me, cold bitch. Pardon my French.” She said with a wink. “She thinks I murdered her brother...as if I had to.”

Benson didn’t respond, he just tilted his chin up and stared at her.

“Mrs. Canton.” Interrupted Bennett.

“Please…call me Lily.”

“My mistake…Lily. If you don’t mind me asking, why is your apartment empty?”

She dragged the cigarette down to her fake plastic nails, flicked it to the ground and stomped it out with her heel.

“Well I don’t have any money.” She said, obviously irritated with the question. “See Victor made all the money, however little it may have been, so now that he’s dead I have to scrape for myself.” She paused and smiled, “but don’t worry about me…I can fend for myself.”

“Yes…I’m sure you can.” Benson said with a grin, “Well thanks for your time Lily. If we have any further questions we’ll let you know.”

She smiled and gave him an inviting wink, “Any time…”

She walked to the door, turning her head as she held it open, “If you boys don’t mind I have an appointment to make. I trust you boys can let yourselves out.” She began closing the door behind her, then stopped and popped her head back in with a silly grin, “Don’t steal anything now.”

She could be heard giggling as she walked down the stairs, the two men standing in the vacant apartment.

Bennett took a big breath in, then let out a long exaggerated sigh, “Well what do you think?”

Benson smiled, lighting a cigarette, “I think I like her flare.”

“That’s wonderful James…do you think she did it?”

Benson laughed, “She may have driven him to do it,” He said shaking his head, smiling, still looking at the door where she exited, “But she didn’t do it.”

Bennett nodded silently to himself, thinking over the conversation.

“Either way, we should look further into it.”

Benson nodded, cigarette bobbing up and down, “That’s our job aint it?”

Benson and Bennett walked hastily down the stairs and out the door, just in time to see Lily enter a cab.

Benson waved his hand in the air and whistled. A cab pulled up and the two men clambered in.

“Follow that cab!” Benson said pointing through the front windshield window.

* * *

The cab driver knew how to tail and did it effectively, as if it were an every day part of his job, keeping a steady distance, blending with traffic. They followed Lily Canton until they came to a large parking lot for a flashy building. Over the entrance to the building, in big neon letters, read Tenard’s Place.

Benson already knew all about the place. This was Mr. Mike Tenard’s casino. The whole operation was illegal, but if you bribe enough people the law becomes nothing but a small nag.

Lily stepped out of the cab and strode over to the entrance, speaking briefly to bouncer, then stepping in.

Benson paid the driver. The two got out and walked over to the front door of Tenard’s Club. The bouncer at the front door was a big bald headed man wearing a suit that looked ready to be ripped to pieces by his very flexing of an arm.

Benson stepped toward the man looking up at his face with a cigarette placed coolly between his lips.

“Say big man, what did that hooker ask you before stepping inside?”

The big man laughed, obviously finding the reference to Lily Canton as a hooker amusing, but then straightened his face saying, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“C’mon…” Benson said, “Sure you do. She said something to you right before you let her in. what was it?”

“I’m sorry sir, I don’t remember.”

“Well what if I make it worth your while? You think you’d remember then?” Benson said holding a curled up bill between his fingers like he would a cigarette. The bouncer looked at the money cautiously, then took it with a grin.

“Yea now that I recall, she asked me where Mr. Tenard is. She seemed eager to see him.”

“Uh-huh, and what did you answer?”

The man grinned, “Sorry but that I can’t answer.”

“You answered her didn’t you?”

“She has business with Mr. Tenard.”

Benson turned and looked at Bennett who just shrugged his shoulders.

“Well I guess I’ll just go in and have some fun anyways, got to be plenty of hookers in there to choose from. Thanks big man.”

Benson and Bennett walked past the bouncer, who was laughing to himself over Bensons comments.

They stepped into the casino, the place looked like an amusement park on a foggy day, bright colors everywhere, a dizzying checkerboard of red and black squares, people laughing, people crying, smoke creating a haze everywhere you looked, so thick each breath was another step closer to the cancer ward, It was as if the toxic smoke was being pumped through air vents. Along with the palette of color stretched a sea of gamblers.

Benson scanned the room for Lily Canton and spotted her through a haze of smoke. being let through a door by yet another large bodyguard. The two men walked over to the guard, dodging an assault of stumbling men and spilled drinks.

“What’s behind this door?” Benson asked, looking up at the face of another bald head.

The bouncer just stared at him in silence.

“Another thing,” chimed Benson, “what’s with bouncers and baldness huh? Job can’t be that stressful? Can it?”

The bouncer glared silently at Benson then answered,

“This is for V.I.P. members, only acquaintances of Mr. Tenard are allowed through this door.”

“Well that’s great!” Said Benson enthusiastically, “I’ve been meaning to get acquainted with Mr. Tenard.”

The bouncer looked blankly at Benson without moving.

“Well how bout this,” Benson said moving his hands in an embracing manner, “How bout you tell Mr. Tenard there are two detectives,” He pulled out a badge. The badge was fake, but it fooled most. “and that those two detectives would like to talk to him.”

The man looked at the badge, then at Bennett standing next to Benson, looking smug.

“One moment.” He said dryly. The bouncer opened the door, poking his head through, and ushered a man over, whispering something in his ear. The man nodded, then ran back through the door.

“Wait here.” The bouncer said, emotionless.

They waited at the door for about five minutes before the man opened the door, urging both of them in. They stepped into a dimly lit room with purple wall paint and chandeliers hangings from the ceiling. Cushiony booths were scattered around, in which resided a variety of people: lavishly dressed aristocrats, a few cops, and Lily Canton, who looked like she was pleading with, what must have been, Mr. Tenard. Tenard looked annoyed with her presence as if he were stuck listening to a boring lecture, or perhaps he was annoyed by the idea of two detectives entering his casino.

“Mr. Tenard will be with you shortly,” came the weasel, “In the meantime, help yourselves to some drinks at the bar.”

The two of them sat at the bar, waiting to be called on. The lowered their heads, attempting to stay hidden from Lily Canton. They couldn’t hear her words but they could hear her tone, and it sounded desperate.

Finally Lily got up and stormed out of the room looking angry, but also scared, tears forming in the corners of her eyes.

“Mr. Tenard will see you now.” Came the voice of the man who let them in.

They got up and walked over to the table Mr. Tenard was sitting at.

“Sit down, please.” Said the cool slick voice of a man who has everything but afraid. “Would you like a drink or perhaps a cigar?”

“No, thank you.” Said both Benson and Bennett.

“So what can I do for you detectives?”

Benson lit a cigarette and began smoking, looking around the room curiously,

“You’ve got quite an operation going here Mr. Tenard, I’m impressed.”

Mr. Tenard didn’t look amused.

“How many cops you gotta bribe to keep this place running? Must be a ton. Don’t you think Roger?”

“Oh yea…I can’t imagine the money you must throw at people.”

Mr. Tenard cleared his throat, appearing uninterested with the detectives comments, “Is that what you came here for?” asked Tenard with a cocked brow, “Trying to make a collection? Or do you have a legal issue?” He laughed, “In which case, I can have you talk to my lawyer.”

“No…no…I could care less about what you do here and who you pay off.” Benson said casually, “We came here because of that girl you were just talking to.”

Mr. Tenard sat back looking amused.

“You’re investigating Lily?” Tenard said with a chuckle.

“What’s your connection to Lily Canton?” Roger asked inquisitively.

Tenard let out a slight chortle, “Lily? She’s nothing. Just another scuff on my shoes which I like to keep polished.”

“You didn’t answer the question.” Benson said aggressively.

Tenard shrugged his shoulders, “She owes me money. Nothing more. She came to make a payment and beg for an extension. I gave it to her.” He added, rolling his eyes. “I’m a kind man.”

“How long has she been in debt to you?”

“Pff-months. She’s owed me money for a long time and its been building up.”

“How much money?”

“Quite a bit, if her husband had chosen to take a more prosperous position it would be easy for her to pay it off.” He added with a smirk.

“Well her husbands dead.” Benson said firmly, looking at Tenard with piercing eyes.

Tenard smiled slightly, “Yes I heard. Quite unfortunate.” He turned and looked at Benson with an innocent expression, “He came to me a month or so before his death, begging to forgive Lily’s debt.” He smiled, “It’s was nice to see he cared so much for her. Obviously she didn’t feel the same way about him.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Benson said, his chin tilted high.

Tenard looked surprised, then smirked, “Well he killed himself didn’t he?” Tenard struck a cigar and stuck it in his mouth.

Benson just looked at Tenard with a cold glare.

“So why’d you give Lily the extension on her debt?”

Tenard laughed as if the question was completely ridiculous, “Well what am I gonna do? Kill her?” Tenard went on laughing while the two detectives stared coldly.

Tenard stopped laughing but continued smiling through his cigar, “Besides she told me she would have the money soon enough. Whether she does or doesn’t, we’ll see…but for the time being I’ll be merciful and let her mourn her husbands death.”

Tenard waved the man over, “Now if you gentlemen don’t mind, I’m gonna have to ask you to leave my casino.” He gave them a sly smile, “It’s nothing personal…it’s just your presence makes some people nervous.”

Benson narrowed his eyes, “Only if they got something to hide…”

Tenard laughed, “This is a casino my friend,” He removed his cigar and looked at Benson mockingly, “Everyone who steps through my door has something to hide.”

* * *

The two detectives got into a cab, heading back to the office. Benson sat silently, mulling over the series of events, trying to make sense of them all. There was something missing.

“Ms. Donald…” began Benson, “She mentioned Lily’s gambling problem…”

“Yea,” Bennett replied, “I got it all right here.”

He felt inside his chest pocket, then shoved both hands digging into his pants pockets, he felt all around himself looking confused.

“I can’t find my notebook…”

“What?”

“I don’t know where it is…”

“Where was the last place you had it?”

Bennett thought about it, “Well I guess I must have left it at Ms. Donald’s apartment…”

Benson sighed, “Driver, change of plans.”

* * *

They pulled up to the apartment just in time to see Lily Canton open the door and enter the building. The two of them got out and walked up to the door, peering through the window.

Lily Canton could be seen opening her mailbox. She skimmed through her mail, then came to an envelope and froze. She stared at it for a moment, then rushed up the stairs out of sight.

Bennett shrugged his shoulders.

They rang the doorbell of room thirty-six.

“Yes…?” came an old pleasant voice.

“High Ms. Donald? This is detective Benson, we met earlier. My partner believes he left his notebook in your room. Would you be so kind as to let us in?”

“Oh…a notebook you say? Why…sure, I’ll be down in a minute.”

They stood there in the cold breeze, waiting. Benson took out a cigarette and lit it, watching the smoke drift away, carried by the wind. Ms. Donald was at the door after six minutes.

“Thank you for letting us in.” Bennett said kindly, “We will only be a minute.”

“Oh it’s no problem at all, please come in.”

They were in the old woman’s room again.

Bennett looked around the room carefully, and spotted his notebook sitting next to the porcelain birds.

“Great, thought I lost it,” Bennett said placing the notebook in his chest pocket.

“I’m glad to hear it, would you like to stay for tea? Or perhaps cards.”

“No I think we need to get going.”

“Well take care you two.” She said with a wave.

They exited her room and began to walk down the stairs when they noticed Lily Canton’s room was open, sobbing could be heard from inside. Her sobs echoed across the bare walls as if she were at the bottom of a well.

Benson gave Bennett a curious look, then slowly opened the door, finding an unexpected scene.

Lily was sitting on the cold floor, hunched over, her knees bent and head hanging between them, hair dangling over her face, hiding it, muffling her tears, arms hanging loosely over her knees, a tear stained letter clenched in one hand, a six-shooter in the other.

“Mrs. Canton?” Said Bennett, shocked but still trying hard to keep his cool. His eyes narrow, staring at the gun in her hand, her finger on the trigger. Lily remained still, sobbing relentlessly.

“Lily?” Benson said, “Lily what’s going on.” His voice gave a slight hint of sympathy.

She turned her head up slowly revealing her hysterical face, makeup smeared so much that you couldn’t make out her lipstick from her blush, eyes flowing with tears and teeth clenched so tight they looked like they could have shattered under the pressure. She looked at Benson with rancorous eyes.

“Lily, don’t do anything stupid.” Benson said easing his hands back and forth in attempts to calm her down, “Lily…listen to me. Your husbands may be dead, but ending your life won’t change anything.”

She laughed, spraying out thick globs of mucus, then looked at Benson with malicious eyes, “I know my husbands dead!” She sneered, shaking her head, “I killed him!”

She sat there building up rage, heaving in and out as if she had just escaped from a perilous pursuit, then she slowly raised the gun, pointing it at Benson. Benson raised his hands and tilted his head, giving her a cautious look.

“I killed him.” She repeated, “I shot him in the head and watched his brains splatter across the walls.” She stood up, placing her elbow on the wall for support, keeping the letter firm in her hand, gun unwavering from its target. “He was useless. He did nothing for me!” She began to shake her head, walking slowly towards Benson, getting closer and closer, so close that the gun was now pressing hard into Benson’s ribcage. “He…was a failure.” She whispered softly through desperate tears, her breath wafting over Benson’s cheek. “We had nothing…we were nothing…and now…” She clenched her fist around the letter tightly, wrinkling it, perhaps even tearing it, “ Now I’m finished.”

Benson looked Lily in the eyes. For a moment their consciousness collided and he saw the anger, the hatred, and the desperation in her soul.

“I don’t get it.” Benson said, “I know you hated the guy, but what’d you have to gain from his death?”

Her eyes narrowed remorsefully, “It doesn’t matter anymore…,” she choked out a sob, then took in a deep breath, attempting to compose her tortured face. She looked as if she was full of a deep regret, perhaps coming to grips with her nefarious deed.

“So what now?” Benson said coolly, “You gonna kill me? Then Roger?” He said tilting his head towards his partner, “Then what? You get arrested? Tried for murder. Sentenced to death?”

“Don’t you get it!” She growled with such an animosity that Benson, even in his cool mind, was taken by surprise, “I’m already dead…”

There was a moment of silence. Lily looking up at Benson, teeth clenched and eyes wide like a wild animal, Benson looking down the barrel into an awaiting abyss, and Bennett, watching Lily with attentive eyes, moving slowly, cautiously towards the pair, trying hard not to be noticed.

“DON’T MOVE!” Lily cried, turning swiftly, pointing the gun at Bennett. In an instant Benson grabbed her wrist and yanked it up in the air. Lily, in a panic, fired repeatedly into her ceiling, plaster falling like snow down onto her face, screaming with a blind rage like a savage battle cry.

Benson flung Lily’s hand against the wall, knocking the gun out, then threw her to the floor, her other hand dropping the letter as she braced herself for the impact. Bennett immediately picked the gun up off the ground and pointed it at Lily.

“Freeze!” He shouted, gun held steadily in his hands.

Lily looked at the gun, paused for a moment thinking over her current situation, her possibilities, then after finding none, let out a heavy sigh, lowering herself against the hard floor, sobbing into its cold unwelcoming surface.

“Lily,” Benson said, wiping plaster off his jacket, “You’re under arrest.” He pulled out a cigarette and lit it, taking a long drag in, “I suggest you start thinking over your confession.” He walked over to where the wrinkled letter lay on the ground and picked it up.

“I see…” He let out a slight chuckle.

* * *

Lily Canton’s empty apartment was now filled with policemen, yellow tape streamed across the doorway where a guard prevented reporters and other residents from getting in. Lily sat grudgingly on the floor with her hands cuffed behind her back. An officer was talking to her, but it seemed she was not aware of his words nor anything else happening in the room.

After some time Ms. Canton, having heard the news, pushed her way through the crowd into the room. An officer attempted to stop her.

“It’s okay,” Bennett said to the officer, “Let her in.”

Bennett smiled at Ms. Canton and she threw her arms around him, hugging him tightly.

“I knew it!” She gasped through forming tears, “She did it! Right?” her voice elevating so that officers began turning their heads to look at her, “She killed Victor!” Bennett tried to calm her down but couldn’t, “She killed my brother!”

The room went quiet as everyone but Lily turned towards Ms. Canton.

“Yes.” Chimed Benson, interrupting the silence, “She did.”

Ms. Canton walked over to Lily and shouted, “Why!”

Lily didn’t react but Benson decided to fill her in.

“It’s really pretty simple,” He began as the room stood quite, listening to his every word, “See Victor and Lily Canton had very little money, which neither enjoyed, but it made Lily quite dissatisfied. Lily, always wanting to live a lavish lifestyle, began going to Mr. Tenard’s Casino, where she could pretend she was wealthy and enjoy the thrill of gambling.” he paused a moment and looked around the room, making sure everyone was listening. “Unfortunately, Lily was not a very good gambler, and quickly acquired herself a rather large debt to Mr. Tenard, a rather dangerous man to do business with. I can only assume that Mr. Tenard made a number of threats to Lily, pushing her to pay off her debt. Victor Canton had tried to plea with Mr. Tenard to give Lily some leeway, but he was unsuccessful, and I’m sure Mr. Tenards threats became increasingly more menacing. So Lily sold her wedding ring to make a down payment, but she knew damn well she was gonna need a lot more and fast. Well, as you can imagine, this didn’t sit well with Mr. Canton, and the two had themselves quite an argument, according to Ms. Donald next door. After the argument, Mr. Canton went next door to a more pleasant environment, and played gin with Ms. Donald. During this time, Lily was brainstorming how to pay off her debt when it hit her.”

“How?” Ms. Canton interrupted.

“I’ll get there.” Said Benson with an assuring smile, “Mr. Canton went back where he and his wife, at the moment, were not on speaking terms. He went into his office to sulk while she became worked up in a crazy scheme. After some time, Lily grabbed the gun that killed Mr. Canton, a gun I presume is locked away in evidence at the moment, came into the office and shot an unexpecting Victor Canton in the head, killing him. From there, it was simple for her to place the gun in his hand and claim he committed suicide. But Ms. Donald mentioned something very interesting about this chain of events.

“What?” whispered Ms. Canton.

“She never screamed.”

“What?” asked Ms. Canton again, very confused.

“She never screamed…or yelled or made any sort of noise. According to Ms. Donald, who can hear everything through these walls,” Benson banged on the wall connected to Ms. Donald’s apartment, “there was a gun shot, and then immediately after Mrs. Canton could be heard calling the police. Now, what kind of woman hears a gun shot, finds her husband with his brains all over the wall, and doesn’t let out a scream or a whimper, but immediately calls the police? Immediately! Ms. Donald said she heard Lily Canton on the phone in a matter of seconds. I find it hard to believe that the shock had left her that quickly.”

“But why did she do it! What had she to gain?” cried Ms. Canton.

“Money!” yelled Benson excitedly, “And a lot of it, if, that is, had Mrs. Canton played her cards right. But she made a very dimwitted mistake. Isn’t that right Lily?” Benson looked at Lily who was sulking in the corner. She responded by sinking her head between her shoulders and clenching her fists.

“You see…Lily Canton made Victor Canton’s death look like suicide, whereas if it had been almost any other way of dying, she would have received a large sum of money.”

“How?”

Benson smiled, “Life insurance.”

Ms. Canton opened her mouth slightly and her eyes went wide as it dawned on her.

“See Lily was in serious debt, and I’m sure she felt her life was in danger, and the only way she could get enough money to pay off Mr. Tenard was to collect on Mr. Canton’s life insurance. But Lily failed to realize that Mr. Canton’s policy, did not include suicide coverage. She was unaware of this until earlier today when she received this letter.” Benson pulled the wrinkled paper from his pocket, “Dear Lily Canton, we regret to inform you that your husband’s policy does not cover any act of suicide, and thus we cannot deliver any payment for his death. We are very sorry for your loss…etcetera…etcetera.” Benson folded the paper and handed it to an officer.

“So, when Lily got this letter of rejection, after selling all her belongings and still being in debt, she realized there was no way to pay off her debt, and assumed Mr. Tenard was probably going to kill her when she made no payment, being the hard thug that he is. So she sulked in the corner of the apartment for some time, ready to shoot herself when my partner, Mr. Bennett and I found her sobbing pathetically. She tried to kill me, she failed, and here we are now.

There were a few murmurs between officers, then Lily was dragged out, her legs scraping against the floor, her face pale, her eyes vacant of any hope.

* * *

After Lily Canton was locked away and everything was settled, James Benson and Roger Bennett went back to work at 348 Brunston, but it was not long before things changed dramatically.

It was a pleasant evening when Bennett stepped into the office greeting Benson rather shyly. When asked why he was acting so strangely Bennett replied that he was leaving town, and starting his own business elsewhere.

“We solve a major case, and you decide to pack it and leave?” said Benson dejectedly.

“It’s not that James,” Bennett said hesitantly, “Me and Ms. Canton are to get married in the fall. I’ve been seeing her regularly since we solved the case and we’re quite compatible.” Bennett had a big silly grin on his face when he spoke all this.

“Is that so…?” asked Benson with a grin, “Well then, I guess there’s nothing to say but congratulations to you both.”

“Thank you.”

“May you two have a long happy life together.”

And that was that. Benson went on working where he was and Bennett left with his new wife and started his own private detective business, where him and his wife lived happily for some time. And that’s how Ms. Canton became Mrs. Bennett.