Birdsongs by Jason Deas Read Free Book Online

Benny?”
        “I was thinking about trying something new this go around Larry. What do you think?”
        Larry thought for a moment and said, “You need to add some more Dylan to your collection.”
        “I wouldn’t exactly call that new, Larry. What do you suggest?” Larry pulled a couple of compact discs out of the fancy milk crate dividers and rung Benny up with an ear-to-ear smile.
        “If you don’t like those Benny,” Larry began, “I’ll give you that money back.”
        Benny took the discs, turned towards the door and said, “How could Bob do me wrong brother?” He walked out the door and Larry headed towards the back room again.
      
 
       With Bob crooning through his speaker system Benny headed to the boat to check his messages, mail, and to take a possible nap. No such luck. He played his one message, which was from Vernon that solely said, “Call me now.” Benny scrambled for the phone and dialed the number as fast as his fingers would let him.
        Vernon was in such a rush he could not even get out an entire hello and answered, “Lo.”
        Sensing the worst Benny asked cautiously, “What now?”
        “Another body Benny,” and there was a pause before he said, “god dammit all.”
        “Where are you?”
        “Hank’s Bar and Grill.”
        “Be there in ten,” Benny stated as he threw the phone on the couch and ran out the door and down the dock.
      
 
       Officer Andy Mandelino was guarding the front door. He informed Benny that Vernon was waiting for him inside. From the look on Officer Mandelino’s face, Benny surmised he had been inside. His blood-drained face and empty stare told Benny that something special awaited his viewing. Hank’s Bar and Grill was a Jimmy Buffet kind of hangout with more bar than restaurant. Rafts, fishing nets, poles, and fake anchors hung from the ceilings and walls. A large stage for live music took up one side of the restaurant. It was filled with musical and sound equipment. Microphones and stands, speakers, a drum set, endless feet of wires, and a grand piano filled the stage. Taking in the scene, Benny thought their silence was deafening. Vernon stood stage left. He examined the scene, frozen with disbelief.
        “What in the wide world of fuck happened here?” Benny asked as he approached the scene.
        “You can say that again,” Vernon commented.
        “What in the wide world of fuck happened here?”
        “Thanks smart ass,” Vernon quipped. “Do you have any other cases going Benny?”
        “A couple.”
        “Cancel them and start me a tab, will you?”
        “I’ll do it.”
        The main lights in the bar were turned off. A spotlight threw a circle of brilliant white around the grand piano. Benny gazed within the confines of the tremendous light. He stood still as his eyes inspected and his mind processed. Vernon remained silent. The victim was a male. Benny guessed to himself he was at least ten years older than the first victim. The body sat on the piano bench, slumped over, with the face of the corpse resting, profile revealed, against the piano’s keys. His left hand was glued to the keys. The victim’s right hand hung down towards the floor and had a tambourine stitched into his palm. Drawn on the face of the tambourine was a star.
        The crime scene at Hank’s Bar and Grill offered few clues. There was not a fingerprint, shoeprint, fiber, or jacksnipe discovered besides the obvious strangulation. Vernon and Benny pored over the site searching for traces of anything; the search resulted in very little. The killer was obviously well versed in crime scene methodology. The middle aged, soft looking male melding with the grand piano reminded Benny of a Salvador Dali painting. When the coroner arrived, she and her crew pulled the body away from the piano to put it in a body bag. Luckily, the glue had not fully dried and his hand pried