Page 52 of Don't Hate Me
There was another way, beside divorce, to end a marriage.
“I don’t know you. I’m certainly not getting in a car to go anywhere with you.”
John stepped closer to me and I appreciated his loyalty. It would be no small thing to try to abduct both of us standing outside the correctional facility, where lawyers and police officers were constantly entering and exiting.
Entwhistle dipped his head inside the car. Then another suit stepped out of the car. Older than me by maybe ten years. Obviously wealthy, judging by the Rolex on his wrist. That, and his coat was tailor made to fit him. He was blond, tall, and wore the serious expression of a man who didn’t fuck around.
“Marc Campbell, my name is Dean Benfield.” He stretched out his hand and instinctively I shook it.
I knew that name. How? It was definitely in the context of work. Then it clicked. “You used to work for Landen.”
He nodded. “I did. Now I do better self-employed.”
“What do you want with me?”
“I heard your story and I thought maybe we should talk. Because I have the feeling you and I are the only two people who know the truth.”
“That Landen’s a crook. That the twenty million dollars he says Istole,is how he’s covering his scheme of using new investor money to pay off bad investments. I’d bet on it. No one who is drinking the way he does is making money for his clients at the rate he says he is. Which means he’s lying.”
Benfield smiled. “Exactly. And you’re going to help me prove it. Now, join me?”
I nodded. I turned to John. “Thanks, but I’ve got this covered from here.”
He laughed. “Fuck yeah, you do. Call me if you need me. I can at least be co-counsel.”
I stepped inside the limo, and both Entwhistle and Benfield followed. Comfortably, we sat on the deep leather seats while the driver moved us effortlessly into New York traffic.
“I’ve already notified the prosecutor who has your case to turn over all evidence to your defense team, but I can already see flaws,” Entwhistle said.
“Flaws sounds good,” I said. “Flaws sounds like freedom.”
“Don’t get your hopes up,” Entwhistle said sternly. “You did take the two thousand dollars. They can clearly follow that trail of money.”
“It was money I earned,” I insisted. “That was in an account in my name. The growth was from my investment strategy. It wasn’t Landen’s money.”
“Not according to the agreement you signed,” Benfield said.
“There was no agreement,” I said. “I was given an account and told to grow it.”
“It was there, trust me,” Benfield said, looking out the window at the passing city. “Somewhere in the paperwork you signed when you were first hired. It wouldn’t have been explained. You might have thought you were enrolling for the health-care benefit, and, the next thing you know, they’ve got you dead to rights. But it doesn’t matter.”
“Doesn’t matter? If I’m convicted of embezzlement, that’s the end of my career. My fucking life.”
Benfield pressed his fingers together in a triangle. “No, going to prison for ten plus years is the end of your fucking life. This is an obstacle to overcome.”
I didn’t agree, but I’d spent over a week in prison learning to stifle my emotions. Swallow them, suppress them, bury them so deep I was only left with numbness. This was no different. I was still a pawn in this game, only now there was a new king on the chessboard.
“Why are you doing this?” I asked him. “Why do you even care what happens to me?”
“I don’t care what happens to you,” Benfield said bluntly. “I care what happens to Arthur Landen. He’s a cheat and a thief. For a time, he made my life very difficult. I’m in a position now where I can repay that difficulty, and I feel you’re the tool, or shall I say weapon, that can make it happen.”
“What do you want from me?”
“I want you to find the evidence that proves Landen is every bit the crook I say he is.”
“How am I supposed to do that?” I asked, exasperated. “It’s not like he’s going to let me in the front door?”
Dean smiled blandly. “Then I suggest you use the back door.”
