The Mayor

By Robert Gonko

Assassination!

Moments before kicking off his campaign for governor, Port Mason Mayor Eric Hawkins and his wife are shot dead by hired assassins.

Who’s behind these crimes? The mob? Hawkins’ political enemies? And what do the murders have to do with an unresolved case from private investigator Steve Bennett’s police days?

With his own life in danger from the assassins, Steve must fight not only for himself but the lives of his family as he navigates the web of intrigue surrounding the murders. That web will lead him face to face with those behind the murder of The Mayor.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Robert Gonko
• Release date: Sep 10, 2019
• ISBN: 9780463024416

Robert Gonko

Robert became a fan of thrillers as a teenager when he discovered Clive Cussler's Dirk Pitt series. These works, and others, inspired him to start writing his own books and a life-long dream was born. He first created his central characters Steve Bennett and Amanda Clark in college, though it would be many years before he hit on the right stories for them. In his early forties he conceived the Port Mason series, stories set in and featuring a fictional city 'somewhere in America' that he describes as inspired by St. Louis and Portland (Oregon) with a strong dose of Chicago-style politics and corruption to keep things interesting. His first Port Mason story, "The Inheritance", was originally released in 2013. An updated and re-written edition was released later that year. Book two in the series, "The Servant", was released in 2014 with book three, "In the Crosshairs" coming out in 2017. He has just released the fourth installment, "The Mayor", and is getting started on book five. Robert was born and raised in Illinois, where he lives with his wife, Angela, and their children, Josie and Jimmy.

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Robert Gonko

Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2019 by Robert Gonko

All rights reserved.

Cover Design by Edward Howell

Cover Concept by Josephine Gonko

ISBN: 9780463024416

This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient.

Table of Contents

Title page

Copyright

Table of Contents

Also by Robert Gonko

Dedication

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

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Six

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Chapter Thirty

Chapter Thirty-One

Chapter Thirty-Two

Chapter Thirty-Three

Chapter Thirty-Four

Chapter Thirty-Five

Chapter Thirty-Six

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Chapter Thirty-Nine

Chapter Forty

Chapter Forty-One

Chapter Forty-Two

Chapter Forty-Three

Chapter Forty-Four

Chapter Forty-Five

Chapter Forty-Six

Chapter Forty-Seven

Chapter Forty-Eight

Chapter Forty-Nine

Chapter Fifty

Chapter Fifty-One

Chapter Fifty-Two

Chapter Fifty-Three

Chapter Fifty-Four

Chapter Fifty-Five

Chapter Fifty-Six

Chapter Fifty-Seven

Chapter Fifty-Eight

Chapter Fifty-Nine

Chapter Sixty

Chapter Sixty-One

Chapter Sixty-Two

Chapter Sixty-Three

Chapter Sixty-Four

Chapter Sixty-Five

Chapter Sixty-Six

Chapter Sixty-Seven

Chapter Sixty-Eight

Chapter Sixty-Nine

Chapter Seventy

Chapter Seventy-One

Chapter Seventy-Two

Chapter Seventy-Three

Chapter Seventy-Four

Chapter Seventy-Five

Chapter Seventy-Six

Chapter Seventy-Seven

Chapter Seventy-Eight

Chapter Seventy-Nine

Chapter Eighty

Chapter Eighty-one

Chapter Eighty-Two

Chapter Eighty-Three

Chapter Eighty-Four

Chapter Eighty-Five

Chapter Eighty-Six

Chapter Eighty-Seven

Chapter Eighty-Eight

Chapter Eighty-Nine

Chapter Ninety

Acknowledgements

Connect

Also by Robert Gonko

The Inheritance

(E-Book novella)

The Servant

In The Crosshairs

For absent friends

ONE

Steve Bennett was on high alert. His eyes darted back and forth, scrutinizing every face in the crowd. His right hand was at his side, ready to grab the Sig Sauer P229 pistol concealed under his suit jacket. He didn’t like much about his current situation. There was an electricity in the air combined with something else, an intangible quality that filled him with a sense of foreboding. Something was wrong here; he just wasn’t sure what.

The beautiful redhead standing next to him saw the look on his face and nudged him with her elbow. It’s just a political rally, Amanda Clark said. Stop being so twitchy.

Crowds make me edgy, he said.

I’ll add that to the list, she replied.

Sorry, force of habit, he said, trying to relax. Always on the lookout for trouble.

And frequently finding it, she conceded.

He nodded. I know why you’re here, he said. He wants to try to talk you into working for the campaign—again. But what does the mayor want with me?

Maybe he wants you to campaign for him, Amanda suggested, teasingly. Or hit you up for a contribution.

Steve snorted, which made her laugh. As far as he was concerned, all politicians were crooks and liars. Remind me again, he began. How did I let you talk me into this?

She whispered into his ear. Oh, yeah, that’s how, he said, hoping he wasn’t turning red. When I first met you, I never would have guessed you had such a dirty mind.

You’re a bad influence, she said.

He shrugged his shoulders. I’ve been called worse things, he said.

She laughed, her green eyes sparking with that look he’d come to realize was reserved solely for him. How he’d gotten so lucky was beyond him but he wasn’t about to question it. In all his life he’d never known love like this.

They’d met during a string of grisly murders a few months before; he was investigating it, and she was reporting on it. After some rough moments, they were now madly in love; she had recently moved into Steve’s condo. For Steve, who’d spent most of the last twenty years avoiding serious relationships, this kind of commitment was something of a miracle.

Amanda took his hand and led him through the crowd towards a touring bus parked in front of City Hall on Center Street. The legend FIGHTING FOR OUR FUTURE was emblazoned on the side of the vehicle. Beneath, in smaller letters, read HAWKINS FOR GOVERNOR. Had Steve not been personally invited, there was no way he’d have come within a mile of a political event.

They reached the bus and Amanda showed her press pass to the campaign worker at the door. The worker checked Amanda’s name against an iPad, then knocked on the door. Within moments they were conducted to a section of the bus that was set up as a mobile office.

Behind the desk sat a man in his early fifties with reddish-brown hair, wearing an expensive suit. Eric Hawkins, the mayor of Port Mason, gave them his best politician’s smile as he rose to greet them. He hugged Amanda and shook hands with Steve. The city’s best reporter and its resident daredevil private detective, he said. It’s good to see you both.

Steve did his best not to bristle at the word ‘daredevil’. He didn’t actively seek the dangerous encounters that seemed to be a normal part of his life. Still, he could see that the mayor was only teasing. He replied with a neutral, Your Honor, and left it at that.

Amanda was more relaxed. I’m still not coming to work for the campaign, Eric, she said. No matter how much you flatter me.

Can’t blame an old pol for trying, the mayor replied.

Zac said that you wanted to see both of us, Amanda said as she took out her reporter’s notebook and voice recorder.

Hawkins held up a hand. Not for an interview, he said. Sorry, but you’ll have to wait for the speech. No, I have some other things in mind. Amanda, I know you won’t work for the campaign and believe it or not, I’m not going to try to change your mind. There’s something else I want you to think about. When I’m elected—

If, Amanda corrected.

You haven’t seen our polling data, Hawkins said. Dalton doesn’t stand a chance. Anyway, when I’m governor I’m going to need a press secretary. I’d like to have you. No, don’t answer now. It’s a year and a half to the election. Plenty of time to make up your mind.

Before Amanda could reply, two people emerged from the rear compartment. Steve recognized Laurie Hawkins, the mayor’s wife, and their son; whose name escaped him. The son was tall, like his father, but his softer features and blonde hair favored his mother.

Oh, there you are, dear, Mayor Hawkins said. I was just offering Amanda the press secretary’s job after the election.

You’ve got to win first, Dad, the son pointed out.

That’s what I told him, Amanda added.

Hawkins shrugged his shoulders. Laurie, Josh, I’d like you to meet Steve Bennett, the man who turned down the key to the city.

Because I didn’t deserve it, Steve said, shaking hands with them.

I disagree, but what’s done is done, the mayor said. There is something else I’d like to talk to you about, though. I spoke to Chief Alexander this morning about putting you back on the department at your old rank of detective. He said he’d contact you about it sometime next week.

Steve found himself speechless. After all this time?

I wanted to wait until the new chief got settled in before I started the ball rolling, Hawkins exclaimed. After everything you’ve done for this city, the least we can do is give you your job back.

I…I don’t know what to say, Steve stammered. Except, of course, thank you, your honor.

No, thank you, the mayor replied. If it hadn’t been for you, we never would have been able to start fighting the corruption in our city.

It wasn’t just me, sir, Steve said.

Don’t sell yourself short, Hawkins said. Nobody else risked what you did. And you captured the Servant. We haven’t forgotten that, either.

Another woman appeared at the front of the bus. She was short, even in high heels, and had cropped blonde hair. Steve remembered the mayor’s former chief of staff, Kelly Bigelow, who’d left City Hall to run the new campaign. Eric, we’re waiting for you, she said, fixing Steve with an icy look. Steve did not let his amusement show but was pleased by her obvious disdain. He wasn’t exactly fond of her, either.

Then let’s get going, Hawkins said, buttoning his suit jacket.

The mayor and his family headed for the door. Steve and Amanda made to follow them but were intercepted by Bigelow. There won’t be any opportunity for blackmail photos today, she said.

Good, I left my camera at the office, Steve replied.

They heard the cheering from the crowd outside as the mayor, and his wife and son, exited the bus. Bigelow turned and headed out herself. She’s as fond of you as ever, Amanda observed.

The pictures were your idea, Steve reminded her.

As they emerged from the bus, Steve took a moment to size up the event. It was a bright Friday morning in early May and there wasn’t a cloud in the sky. It was almost too warm to wear a suit but Steve had to go to work after this event and was dressed accordingly. He hoped this didn’t take too long; he’d only signed out for the morning.

In front of City Hall, a platform had been set up with a ‘Fighting for our Future’ banner hanging above. Steve looked down and saw Hawkins and company headed that way, utilizing a path that had been laid between two rows of barricades. The mayor was shaking hands and waving as he made his way down the narrow path, his wife and son in tow. Steve was glad to see a pair of police officers about halfway down the walkway but thought there should be more. The wannabe governor did not seem to take his personal security seriously.

Bigelow stepped off the bus and started to catch up with the Hawkins trio, who were just reaching the police officers. Suddenly, the cops drew their sidearms. Steve’s hand went for his own gun but it was too late. The cop on the left aimed at the mayor’s head and fired. The other cop did the same to Laurie. Husband and wife crumpled to the ground.

TWO

The gunshots sent the crowd into a panic. People screamed, knocking the barricades over as they fled in all directions. Steve could see a throng of police officers struggling to reach the mayor and his wife. He put himself in front of Amanda. Get back in the bus, he said.

She did not argue as Steve scanned the crowd. Where were the shooters? Dressed as cops, they could be anywhere.

To his surprise, they emerged from the chaos, heading for the bus. One of them took aim at Kelly Bigelow, who was just in front of Steve. The private detective already had his gun up and he did not hesitate to squeeze the trigger. The shooter went down.

Steve turned his weapon on the other, who stared at his fallen partner in utter shock. Drop the weapon! The shooter started to raise his gun. Don’t make me shoot you! Steve barked.

Before either he or the shooter could act, Steve was tackled from the side and brought to the pavement. His gun was kicked away and powerful hands grabbed his wrists. It only took a second for him to realize that he was being arrested. They shot the mayor! he exclaimed.

Shut up! a voice barked into his ear. He could feel the handcuffs as they were slapped onto his wrists and tightened. The voice barked in his ear again. If it weren’t for all these cameras, I’d shoot you right now, you cop-killing bastard! the cop exclaimed.

He’s not a cop! Steve exclaimed as the shooter hesitated before plunging into the crowd, leaving his fallen comrade behind. He’s getting away!

I told you to shut up! the voice barked.

Taylor! a new voice shouted. What are you doing?

Steve breathed a small sigh of relief. The voice belonged to Sergeant Dave Hill, his good friend and former police partner. Dave! he shouted. There’s another shooter in police uniform!

You, you, and you, find that other shooter, Dave snapped. Taylor, get him on his feet.

Steve was roughly hauled up, bringing him face to face with Dave, who looked ready to pound someone. That was a fearsome sight. Dave was six foot five and weighed almost three hundred pounds, virtually all of it muscle. Steve, for your own good, keep your mouth shut, the sergeant said. We’ll get it sorted out. Taylor, you and Nettles get him to the MCU. He’d better not ‘fall down’ on the way, either, got it?

Yes, Sarge, Taylor replied, resentfully.

The cops quick-marched him across the still-chaotic plaza toward police headquarters. Something told Steve that he was going to be late to work.

Amanda watched the chaos unfold from the relative safety of the campaign bus. She could feel the tears running down her face but did nothing to hide them. Yes, she was a newspaper reporter. Yes, she should be covering this event. But she had just seen two friends gunned down. She could see paramedics with them, now, but wasn’t able to shake the feeling that their ministrations would be too little, too late.

Then she saw Steve being hustled off by a pair of cops and her paralyzing grief turned to motivating anger. She got off the bus and went after them, fighting the crowd to keep her love in sight. It looked like they were taking him to police headquarters but that did nothing to allay her fears. For one, it was clear he’d been arrested. For another, she had little faith in the ability of the Port Mason Police Department to keep Steve from harm while he was in their custody.

The cops pushed Steve through the front door of the headquarters building. She fought her way through the crowd and ran after the three men. By the time she reached the lobby, she saw the cops take Steve into an elevator. As the doors began to close, he saw her and shouted, Call Charley! One of the cops jerked him back and as the doors shut, she thought she saw the other ball his fist.

Amanda pulled out her cell phone.

I told you to shut up! Officer Taylor barked as Steve gasped from the blow to his abdomen.

Jeez, Chris, are you nuts? his partner said.

It won’t leave a mark, Taylor replied. And nobody’s going to take this bastard’s word over ours.

Before the partner could say anything further, the elevator reached the second floor and the doors opened. The cops marched Steve across the hall to a set of double-doors with the words MAJOR CRIMES UNIT stenciled on them. The door swung open as Taylor was reaching for the door handle, and two people came out. One was a woman with short brown hair and a world-weary expression. The other was a tall, young black man who always struck Steve as being ready to take on the world. Seeing both made him feel infinitely better about his situation.

Detective-Sergeant Shelley Wheeler was an old friend of Steve’s, going back to their days at the police academy, but she didn’t seem overly thrilled to see him. What this time? she asked.

He fucking killed a cop, Taylor barked. Right in the middle of the plaza!

Uh-huh, Wheeler replied, sounding skeptical.

I saw him do it! Taylor protested.

We’ll see about that, Wheeler said. Farlow, put Steve in interview one. I’ll be right there.

Okay, Sarge, Farlow said, taking Steve by the elbow and leading him through the ‘bullpen’, the main work area of the MCU. Steve tried not to return the stares of the detectives. He knew many of these people, having informally assisted the MCU on several occasions. There’d been a time where he harbored dreams of being part of this unit. No, he thought, he still dreamed of it.

Farlow took him to the interview room. Got to cuff you to the table, the young detective said as he undid the handcuff on Steve’s right wrist and fastened it to a steel rail mounted on the table. Sorry, but the new captain is a stickler for procedure.

That’s okay, Steve replied. I’m supposed to be a dangerous person.

What do you mean, ‘supposed to be’? Farlow asked. In spite of the circumstances, Steve smiled. Farlow was a bright young detective who’d shown his worth more than once. In addition to his regular duties, Farlow was working on the still-unsolved murder of Steve’s brother, Tom—a crime nearly six years cold.

After a few minutes, Wheeler returned with another woman Steve didn’t recognize but guessed must be the MCU’s new boss. Steve, this is Captain Ditiway, Wheeler said.

Steve offered his right hand but Ditiway did not move to accept it. You killed a police officer, Ditiway said. You’re lucky you’re still alive.

Steve didn’t bother reading the copy of the Miranda warning they gave him, just scrawled his name at the bottom and handed it back to Wheeler. If that guy was a cop, then the PMPD is in worse shape than I thought, he said. He shot the mayor, you know. And his partner shot Mrs. Hawkins. Then they came at me. Or at Kelly Bigelow. Either way, I was perfectly justified in using deadly force.

Ditiway’s expression was stony and, Steve had to admit, a little scary. He was no imposter, she said. Officer Gilbert Moore has been on the force for five years. He has two commendations and a stellar work record. Not even an IAB complaint, which is more than you can say.

He shot the mayor, Steve repeated. And it looked like he was going to shoot me.

We’ll see, Ditiway said. Put this lunatic in lockup. We’ll talk to him after we’ve finished processing the crime scene.

Captain— Wheeler began.

Now, Sergeant, Ditiway commanded.

Steve again had to be marched through the bullpen but this time was different. Before the stares had been of astonishment. Word must have spread fast because now they were stares of loathing. Cop killers were considered the lowest of the low.

How was he going to get out of this one?

THREE

The surviving shooter removed the blond crewcut toupee he’d worn and put on another that gave him a fuller head of hair, red this time. He still wore the PMPD uniform but had changed the nametag beneath the badge. The finishing touch was a fake mustache. Now he could move, bearing little resemblance to the ‘cop’ who’d shot Eric Hawkins.

It was all he could do to stay professional and focused. He was in shock over the unexpected killing of his partner. To say that they’d been through a lot together was a gross understatement. They weren’t just partners, they were family. The first chance he got—

No! He had to stay on task. There could be no vengeance if he was captured. The escape plan would work just as well for one person as for two. He took out his smartphone and used it to check the tiny cameras he’d planted throughout the tunnels. With all the piping and wiring down here they’d been easy to hide. Luckily, none had been found, much less disabled. The police had already been through here so unless they doubled back, he should be able to make his escape.

He stepped out of the maintenance room and walked down a tunnel well away from the search parties. Within minutes, he was beneath police headquarters, approaching the door to the building’s underground parking area. He held the access card over the scanner. The light turned green and the door clicked, granting him access.

A shiny, new Ford Police Interceptor, painted the traditional black-and-white still employed by the PMPD, was waiting exactly where it was supposed to. The killer found the key fob taped to the inside of the fender. He drove out of the garage unnoticed, already planning his revenge.

But first, he had someone to see.

In the basement of police headquarters is a large room filled with computers, communications equipment, a wall-sized digital map of the city, half a dozen 85-inch LED monitors. A horseshoe table faces the wall of monitors. This is Port Mason’s Emergency Command Center (ECC), created after 9/11 to coordinate the response to any crisis that might befall the city. This was the first time the city had used it for anything other than a weather emergency.

Craig Blackburn, chief of staff to the mayor, sat near the head of the table next to the attractive Latina woman occupying the chair that until a few minutes ago had belonged to Eric Hawkins. Deputy Mayor—no, Interim Mayor— Ann Sanchez looked almost timid as she watched the activity in the ECC. She’d been like this since he had arrived, and it was easy to see why; she’d been among the dignitaries on the rally platform and had seen the whole thing. The poor woman was in shock. He supposed he would be in her place.

Who was he kidding? He was just as scared. Craig knew better than most just how deeply rooted corruption was in Port Mason. Organized crime had its fingers in everything and had eyes everywhere. Mayor Hawkins was the first mayor in decades to take any kind of stand against the corruption. Now he was dead, along with poor Laurie. In Craig’s mind, the two things had to be connected.

A tall woman with two stars on her collar tabs approached them. Stephanie Schahl was the deputy chief of the PMPD’s patrol division and the highest-ranking command officer in the ECC. There haven’t been any more shots fired, she reported. The plaza is secure and we’re looking for the second gunman right now. We think he got into the tunnel network.

That’s not good, Craig said. It’s a labyrinth down there.

He tried to keep his attention focused on her face but it wasn’t easy; Schahl was a very attractive woman. What’s more, he was wearing one of our uniforms, so folks likely assumed he was just another cop, she continued.

Cops did this? Sanchez asked, speaking for the first time.

We don’t know that, ma’am, Schahl replied. We’re trying to identify them now.

The deputy chief excused herself to return to the row of computer terminals where her people were working. I told Eric he was making a mistake, Sanchez whispered to Craig. I don’t like the way things are in this city any more than he does…did but giving the FBI a blank pass to comb through the police department was bound to have consequences.

Craig wanted to argue the point but found himself wondering if his new boss was right. Had Eric brought this on himself? Would the police be able, or willing, to find out? He wanted to make a phone call but couldn’t do it in front of all these people. It would have to wait.

FOUR

It took some time, but the detectives investigating the assassination finally got around to talking to Amanda. She was glad Shelley Wheeler was among them.

To this day, Amanda was considered persona non grata at police headquarters as a result of her series of articles about corrupt police officers the previous year. Wheeler, probably because of her longstanding friendship with Steve, was one of the few cops who treated Amanda fairly.

She took Amanda’s statement, right down to the moment she saw Steve shoot the assassin. When told why Steve was seeing the mayor, the detective’s eyebrows went up. Really? the detective asked.

That’s what Eric, I mean, the mayor, said, Amanda confirmed.