Flying Too Close to the Sun George Jehn (best non fiction books of all time .txt) 📖

Morganthaler responded with gray eyes as cold as steel, “So you knew about the armed guard and the money?”

“Only after I discovered a Treasury agent was doubling as the sky marshal, which explained the delays and was all I cared about. The rest didn’t concern me.”

“Let me repeat myself. You did know there was money on board your flight. Correct?”

“Of course.”

“Why didn’t you previously mention this?”

“Because it was strictly a security issue and didn’t have anything to do with your supposedly missing money.”

The cops just stared blankly at each other. They had hit another stone wall.

“Who else lives with you?” Morganthaler continued, grasping for something, anything.

She sighed. “Like I told you, I have a friend who’s a baggage handler and he stays over occasionally.” When asked, she voluntarily provided additional information about David, including the gym where he worked out in Manhattan. After the cops left Christina immediately called his cellphone she was paying for, but there was no answer. The phone was probably in his locker and she didn’t want to leave a voice message.

.     .     .

The two policemen drove to the upscale PUMP health club in midtown Manhattan and parked their unmarked in front of a fire hydrant. Daly placed his official FBI business tag on the dashboard, hoping they wouldn’t be ticketed. After showing their credentials, the clerk pointed out David, who was bench pressing a lot of weight.

“Mr. Bennedeto?” Daly asked the powerfully built man.

“Who are you?” David answered, continuing to lift.

Both men took out their shields. “I’m chief FBI inspector John Daly and this is Port Authority Police Sergeant Frank Morganthaler. Stop what you’re doing and take a seat over here,” Daly said, pointing to a small table in an area where shakes and protein drinks were dispensed. After David re-racked the weights he became visibly antsy. Maybe the cops wanted to question him about the missing baggage items?

Both policemen immediately took note of his edginess. Daly’s innards involuntarily tightened and his cop’s sixth sense, which was really a sharply-polished talent of close observation and interpretation, honed in. The cops stood while David was seated and kept his eyes on the table, not looking directly at either law enforcement officer. Daly read him like a polygraph machine. “Where were you on Wednesday night the 10th around 9 P.M.?”

His mind raced. When had he pilfered the ring? “I, uh, think I was working.”

“What do you mean you think you were working? Were you or not? Just to refresh your memory, it was raining lightly that night and we wanna know exactly what you were doing.”

“Yes. I worked at LaGuardia airport where I’m employed as a baggage handler for Shuttle Air. My shift runs ‘til around 10 P.M. when the final flights arrive.”

“Can you prove that?”

“I’m paid by the hour. The airline has a record of all of my time down to the minute.”

“We’re not referring to an official record. Are there any fellow workers who can vouch for you?” a frowning Daly asked, knowing it was likely the heist didn’t occur at LaGuardia as the jet never stopped until at the gate. After that, no unauthorized persons were near the forward cargo hold. But something was definitely amiss here as this guy’s behavior said he was lying or withholding something.

As his mind started to clear, David recalled the last time he lifted any jewelry was before the 10th. This must concern something else. Finally looking up, he said, “There were a number of people I worked with for the entire time.”

“Write down their names,” Morganthaler demanded, handing him a pad and pen. David jotted down the first and last names of three people, one a supervisor and two other co-workers who could verify his presence.

“You know Captain Christina Shepard?”

David glanced from one cop to the other, still avoiding prolonged eye contact. “Why do you ask?”

“Let’s get something straight, right now. We’ll ask the fucking questions; that is unless you would rather do this at the stationhouse?” Daly said.

“Go ahead and ask,” David replied. Both cops noticed beads of sweat on his forehead that weren’t there before.

“Are you living with her?”

“What goes on between us is our business. I didn’t know it was a crime to live with another consenting adult,” now a more confident, almost sneering David replied. “I don’t think it’s proper for you to be asking me this question.”

Morganthaler was pissed. “Not proper? Oh really? A serious crime was committed, and—”

“I don’t know nothin’ about any of that shit,” David interrupted. “All I do is slam bags at the airline, go to school and work out at here—”

“Shut the hell up,” a now red-faced Morganthaler told him. “I’m tired of listening to you. You have another address other than Shepard’s where we can reach you? Or like I said, we can get the information in a more formal setting? You’ll also have the right to an attorney there.”

The word attorney immediately got David’s attention. “Yes. I have a small place I rent in Brooklyn,” he gulped, not wanting to go anywhere near a police station or lawyer. “I sleep there sometimes, usually when I work out late. But listen, Shepard doesn’t know about that and—”

“Give us the address and phone number,” Daly ordered. He was losing patience with this asshole. “Do you use email and the internet? Have a cellphone?”

“Yes.”

“Jot down your cell number, your internet provider and your email address.”

David scribbled all the requested information, stating he used a jointly owned laptop computer with Shepard for the internet.

“You don’t have your own?”

“No. I use hers for school.”

“We’ll find out if you’re lying.”

“I swear. I’m not.” He whined.

“You’d better not be.” The two policemen looked suspiciously at him and handed him their cards. “Rest assured we’ll be speaking with you again, shortly. Can we assume you’ll either be here, at work, Shepard’s or at this other dump?” Morganthaler added, knowing the lousy section in Brooklyn where it was located.

“Yes,” a now contrite David replied.

After leaving the gym Daly commented, “I