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    Janus a Bullet for Benji
    Janus a Bullet for Benji
    Janus a Bullet for Benji
    Ebook81 pages1 hour

    Janus a Bullet for Benji

    By J.D. Blair

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    About this ebook

    Janus is an old school detective fighting modern day crime in San Francisco and the Bay Area and beyond. He is brash, witty and cunning. Is he dumb enough to enter the dark side? Of course he is. Fate takes a hand and pulls him into a murder case the takes him into the glitzy world of Hollywood and as far as he's concerned it is a fate worse than death.
    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherBookBaby
    Release dateDec 10, 2018
    ISBN9781543956450
    Janus a Bullet for Benji

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      Book preview

      Janus a Bullet for Benji - J.D. Blair

      2018 by J.D. Blair

      ISBN: 9781543956450

      60 Maple Lane

      Walnut Creek, CA 94595

      925-935-4290

      Blairj28@gmail.com

      Table of Contents

      Chapter One

      Chapter Two

      Chapter Three

      Chapter Four

      Chapter Five

      Chapter Six

      Chapter Seven

      Chapter Eight

      Chapter Nine

      Chapter Ten

      Chapter Eleven

      Chapter Twelve

      Chapter Thirteen

      Chapter Fourteen

      Chapter Fifteen

      Chapter Sixteen

      Chapter Seventeen

      JANUS

      A Bullet for Benji

      She was lashed naked to a slab of granite. They used rose stems. They cut the roses off then with the thorny stems tied her to the granite in a crisscross pattern from her neck to her groin. Her arms and legs were splayed behind her around the slab and her wrists and ankles were tied together with the stems. A weird hieroglyph was burned into her chest, a symbol of a lizard or a snake. Her face was painted with animal blood, like war paint. They made strange totems out of twigs. They were all over the place. They put one on her head like a dunce cap. From the amount of blood around the base of the slab she must have bled out.

      There was a deafening pause in the room. She was everything to me Bender. We brought each other out of the gutter. I loved her.

      I took a deep breath and waited for Dr. Bender to say something. I waited for a long time.

      Bender propped his foot up on the lower drawer of his desk leaned back in his chair and lit a cigarette. Who else have you told this to?

      Nobody, I thought you would understand being an ex-cop and a shrink.

      Why now? What took you so long?

      I paused and looked at my shoes, I’m having dreams.

      What kind of dreams?

      You know, dreams, nightmares.

      Bender knocked an ash off the cigarette, About this?

      And other stuff.

      Gina Mattioli has become a big part of my life and was pushing me to see someone because I was apparently cracking up or melting down or going nuts. Stuff from past cases were running out of space and escaping my subconscious, I guess to find some other place to screw up. Gina being wakened next to me in the middle of the night and me having bad dreams and night sweats wasn’t her idea of a stable relationship.

      Alex Bender ditched policing for a psychology degree and set up shop in Palo Alto and agreed to see me.

      You figure because I was a cop I would have an answer?

      Well, yeah, you’ve had experiences.

      Bender smiled, Not with the kind of shit you’re talking about.

      You can’t help?

      I didn’t say that. Most of this is on you to sort out. I can guide you and suggest things. I’ll listen. Just keep in mind, shit happens.

      At a hundred-fifty an hour I guess shit happens is a bargain. I needed to move on and carrying around past baggage was holding me back. For now Bender’s tough love would have to do.

      Sunday was one of those precious days in the city, fog kissing the gate, the smell of fresh roast coffee and Simon and Garfunkel tripping Feelin’ Groovy on the stereo. Fall had fallen on San Francisco and there wasn’t any space for bad guys. The smell of Gina’s hair lingered on the pillow. She left a note on the bed stand stating sweetly that I was a hot-blooded stud with cold feet and offered to buy me booties to wear especially if I was sharing my bed. I will consider it.

      Golden Gate Park was crowded with bikers, hikers and roller blade fanatics each claiming their share of the city’s sweetness. I don’t hike, bike or blade but I strolled at my pace staking out my little space of nirvana. It was a day for shedding bad dreams and hang-ups but there are nasty realities to life in the city and one of them stopped me cold when the guy strolling in front of me was shot in the chest from a long distance away; a high-powered sniper rifle I would guess by the size of the wound. No more bad dreams or hang-ups for him.

      They say you never hear the shot that kills you and for this poor guy I’m positive he didn’t hear a thing; too many beautiful distractions on this idyllic San Francisco Sunday morning. Trying to stop the bleeding was futile; he was thrashing in panic and shock. His skin was naturally pinkish and his face began to visibly flush as his life drained out of him. He tried to speak but could only manage quiet coughs as blood filled his throat. In a final spasm he grabbed my shirt and pulled me close; one final cough then he was gone. His face paled and his blue eyes froze on me. His name was Benjamin Trumbo and any illusions he and I had regarding nirvana or any other dreamed of Eden exploded in a nanosecond.

      As Bender said, shit happens but what happened in the park can’t be defined by a throwaway line and the episode nagged at me and was still nagging when I unlocked the door to my office on Monday morning. For whatever reason the late Benjamin Trumbo pitched his tent in my brain; another scrap of messy debris I would somehow have to toss.

      The coffee pot just began to bubble when someone knocked on the door. It was just

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