“I’m still willing to help,” he said.
“But you’re not really on the inside, in Bancroft Hall,” she said. “I mean, I appreciate it all to hell, but we’ve got to break through this wall.”
“Let me think about it, too,” he said. “If we can inject the honor system into the problem, we might be able to crack that wall. You really think someone killed that plebe?”
“I’m not hearing any substantiated reasons for him to commit suicide,” she replied. “Other than that he was a little guy who kept mostly to himself. As I told you, my orders were to rule homicide out first. If I can do that, then it becomes a question of accident or suicide. That’s a whole lot less pressing than homicide.”
They stood there on the wide marble steps while midshipmen came and went around them. “I’ve never understood suicide,” Jim said. “But if you were a guy and you were depressed, despondent, suicidal even, would you kill yourself wearing women’s underwear?”
“One might,” she said. “In theory, suicide is very often a statement. A final ‘Screw you, world. See what you made me do? Now it’s all your fault. And by the way, I was a flaming faggot, and now you know. So there, world. I showed you.’”
“But there was no suicide note. The roomie says Dell was making it through. Nobody was on Dell’s ass so hard that the roomie was willing to point a finger. You said that the parents reported no indication of a suicidal frame of mind.”
“All true. On the other hand, he’s wearing Markham’s panties, and forensics indicates he may have had some help going off the roof.”
“So what the hell was this?”
“I don’t know,” she said.
Jim thought about those clothes. He had a bad thought. “What if Dell wasn’t the real target here?” he said. “What if the real target was Markham?”
Branner blinked. “Whoa,” she said. “Kill Dell to frame Markham? That’s pretty damned cold. You’re talking psychopath now.”
“Dell jumps wearing Markham’s underwear. X days after Dell goes over, some of his uniform items turn up in Markham’s locker. She even picked up on it: If she had been involved in Dell’s death, she never would have allowed those clothes to show up anywhere near her.”
“But that brings us back to a connection between Dell and Markham, something more than their being on the same sports team.”
Jim kicked at a small stone. Circles. “Yeah,” he said. “I know.”
“But it does, as a theory, bring us right back to Markham,” she said. “Again. Funny how that keeps happening.”
A plebe walked by, eyed Jim, and finally, just to be safe, saluted. Jim nodded back at him distractedly. “But if I’m right, and I hope I’m not, Dell’s getting killed may actually have been incidental.”
“As in target of opportunity?” Branner said softly. “Like I said, you’re implying a psychopath got through the Academy’s admissions process.” She looked around. The late-afternoon sunlight was filtering through the green haze of new leaves on all the big trees guarding the Yard. There were lights on in some of the rooms facing inner courtyard rooms, and they could see the figures of midshipmen passing by windows. The hum of ventilation systems mixed with the sounds of the Brigade settling into Mother Bancroft for the evening, as one more day in a 150-year tradition subsided. The gilt in the dome of the chapel gleamed its approval.
“The service academies are all about honor, duty, country,” Jim said. “Like you said, Boy Scouts. Young men and women of integrity who want to do something patriotic.” He paused as a final gaggle of mids hurried by, anxious to get into Bancroft Hall before some magic bell went off. “Both sides here are supremely idealistic, when you think about it, both the candidates for admission and the administration. With all those sincere expectations, would they ever see a real psychopath coming?”
“I think I need a drink,” she said, looking at her watch.
“I need to get back to my office, see what’s shaking,” Jim said. He was halfway tempted to ask her over to the boat, but it was clear she’d been very disturbed by his theory. She was definitely going to be working this evening. Besides, he hadn’t forgotten that remark about his current career, or lack of one.
“Let me call you when I’ve had time to think,” she said. “I want to get a second opinion on the forensics report, and I need to talk to my boss. I do appreciate the support, Mr. Hall.”
He smiled. “I’ll tell you my first name if you’ll tell me yours,” he said.
She gave him a bright smile. “What’s yours?”
“Jim.”
“That’s great, Jim. You can still call me Special Agent, I’m afraid.”
“I knew that.”
Ev was gathering up some papers and his briefcase when Liz called. “I’ve heard from Julie,” Liz announced.
“How’d it go with the gestapo?” He tried not to sound too anxious, although Julie had not called him.
“Pretty straightforward, actually. They were following up on the clothes in the locker. Wanted to know how they got there. She told them she had no idea. She also reiterated that she had nothing to do with what happened to Brian Dell.”
“How’d they react this time?”
“They wanted her to take a polygraph test. She told them no.”
“Good girl. Did they ask where you were?”
“Apparently not. She just kept repeating that she didn’t do anything to Brian Dell, not then, not ever. She says she basically told them to chase somebody else.”
“How did they leave it?”
“The interview? That woman just terminated it, after the security officer passed her a note.”
“What? The Academy security officer?”
Liz told him what Julie had said about Jim Hall being at the interview, and that he’d been there when she had accompanied Julie for the last one.
“You mean the black guy wasn’t there?” Ev asked. “This is the Naval Academy security officer we’re talking about?”
“I guess so.”
“Interesting. I ran into him today while I was out for a run. We just sort of fell in together. You know how that goes when you’re running around a track. Now I wonder if that was as accidental as it seemed.”
“I’m not sure what his role in this case is,” Liz said. “The first time, he was just an observer, as Branner put it. But he was definitely there today, and the black guy, Agent Thompson, was not there. As I said, Hall apparently passed her a note and then Agent Branner shut it off.”
“How’d Julie like going solo with the cops?”
“She was brave, but I think she’s getting the picture. I told her that she was living dangerously; then I shut her off.”
“Prolong the feeling of exposure.” This is Julie you’re talking about, he reminded himself.
“Exactly. But the security officer being there bothers me a little bit. That sounds like the Academy might not be keeping itself at arm’s length from this investigation. I’m going to make some calls, see what I can find out.”
“Anything I can do?”
“No, I think we should let it play out for now. They might just move on to some other track.”
“Okay, you’re the boss on that, no matter what my darling daughter says.”
“See the article in the paper today?”
“I did, finally. They never found that guy, I suppose.”
“Not yet,” she said. “The bay doesn’t always give her victims back.”
“Well I know,” he said without even thinking. The comment caught Liz off guard.
“I’m so sorry, Ev,” she said quickly. “That was heedless of me.”
He sighed. “Yesterday was…perfect. Until life intruded again.”
“Think of it this way,” she said. “We-but mostly you-saved two people’s lives yesterday. I saw their faces from the pilothouse. They were finished. That makes it a pretty damn good week, in my book.”
“I was talking about us. You.”
“I know, sill
y. We can deal with life and us, if we play our cards right.”
“Okay, then, how about coming out to my house tonight?” he asked. “You’re as positive as it gets for me right now.”
“Listen to you! Give me an hour. No-make it two. I think I’m going to take a chance on something.”
Jim went back to the boat after checking in with his office and the chief. Nothing out of the ordinary happening, other than the usual semifrantic preparations for commissioning week, the logistical and security issues caused by the presence of the vice president, the hand-holding sessions being set up for the Board of Visitors, and the media siege over the Dell incident. As he drove through the eternally crowded streets of the harbor area, he wondered if he should lay out his own theory on the Dell case for the dant. Probably not. He wasn’t a trained investigator. Even Branner wanted to consult with her own people. And he could be so wrong. Hell, the kid might have gotten depressed, gone up on the roof to stew about it, and tripped. Plebes were, by definition, screwups.
As he passed by the small marina office, Charlie Mack, the dock manager, stuck his head out the door. There was a woman standing behind him in the office.
“Yo, Big Jim, you got a visitor.”
Jim stopped as Charlie stepped aside and a tiny but fully equipped brunette came out of the office. “Mr. Hall?” she said. “I’m Liz DeWinter. Remember? Julie Markham’s attorney? Can we talk?”
“I’m going to have a beer,” Jim said as he turned on more lights in the main lounge. “Can I get you something?” Jupiter was perch-walking, trying to get a better look at the lady lawyer.
“Thanks, no,” Liz said. “I’m a scotch drinker, but I still have to drive home.”
“I’ve got some twelve-year-old Laphroaig back here,” he said, pausing at the door to the galley area.
“Well, in that case,” she said. “Make it a truly wee dram, though.”
“One wee dram coming up,” he said. “So, how’d you find me?”
“Some serious investigative work. The phone book? You were the only Jim Hall. The other three were all listed as James.”
“That’ll do it,” he said, returning with her scotch in a snifter and his glass of bright black Guinness. “Cheers and confusion to the redcoats.”
“Remember Culloden,” she replied. She tasted the single malt. “Lovely, as always.”
“DeWinter,” he said. “That was your boat yesterday? Picked those people up? You and Professor Markham?”
“Small world, isn’t it?” she said. “And now you’re wondering why I’m here.”
Jim sat down across from her in one of the big leather chairs. She was probably ten years older than he was, but definitely a Slinky Toy, even if she was only about five-one in her stockings. Nice stockings, too. He smiled instead of answering, then waited.
“I talked to Julie Markham today, or this evening, actually. She told me that you were present for an NCIS interview on the Dell case. Again. I’m curious.”
“You’re wondering why the Naval Academy security officer’s involved in an NCIS matter.”
“More specifically, still involved in their investigation of what happened to Brian Dell.”
He told her about what had happened to Bagger and his offer to help, leaving out any reference to the tunnel incidents or the dant’s instructions. “NCIS has a two-man office here. Without Agent Thompson, she was on her own. I offered to help, and she took me up on it. I have no official status in her investigation, though.”
“So how can you help Agent Branner?”
“I’m an Academy grad. She needs an interpreter. Someone who can translate what the mids are saying when she does her interviews. A consultant.”
“And what they’re not saying?”
Whoops, he thought. Careful: This one’s switched in. “Yes, and what they’re not saying. I’m going to help her look through the blue-and-gold wall. If I can.”
Liz nodded. “I’m having similar difficulties with that wall,” she said. “What do you think of my client?”
“She was there without her lawyer,” Jim said with a smile. “Not as smart as she looks.”
Liz inclined her glass at him in a small salud.
“Actually, I’ve met her three times,” he continued, in case this was a test. “The first interview, the one today, and a chance encounter at the Natatorium, where I sometimes work out. But you should understand that I didn’t participate in the interview. I was just there, observing and listening.”
“And passing notes. Julie said you passed Branner a note and that then she terminated the interview. If you’re willing to share, I’d like to know what was in that note.”
He frowned. This lady was a defense lawyer. He worked for the government, and, while not really a police officer, he wasn’t sure what he should be telling a possible homicide suspect’s lawyer.
She put down the snifter and shifted in her chair, revealing a flash of great legs. “Look, Mr. Hall, I’m not asking you to divulge details of a government investigation or anything like that. But if I understand the process correctly, the NCIS investigation was turned on by the superintendent. You work for the superintendent. You being in that room gives the administration a direct line into the NCIS investigation, which is supposed to be conducted entirely independently of the command convening it. As I understand it, of course.”
Jim heard more mental warning bells. She was talking directly about command interference. “I could quibble, I guess,” he said. “The investigation was turned on by the commandant, not the supe. Either way, there’s command influence only if I’m reporting back to the administration.”
“Tell me something: Do you think Midshipman Dell was murdered?”
Jim tried not to blink. “Don’t know,” he replied. “I believe that’s what Special Agent Branner’s trying to rule out.”
“You’re a graduate. Do you think it’s possible? Murder at the Naval Academy?”
He sipped some beer to give himself time to think. “Possible? Anything’s possible, I guess. It’s a high-pressure place. But likely? No. I’d hope that the admissions process was better than that. Let me ask you one. Do you think your client caused Dell’s death?”
“I guess I’d have to say that that’s between my client and me, Mr. Hall.”
“Well, there’s a one-way street,” he said with a smile. “But that wasn’t a definite no.”
“You shouldn’t infer anything from what I said or didn’t say, Mr. Hall, especially when I’m crouching down behind lawyer-client privilege. Is that where your investigation is going right now?”
“It’s not my investigation, Ms. DeWinter,” he reminded her. “I’m just helping the NCIS with its inquiries.”
She gave a short laugh, finished her scotch, and stood up. “Thanks for your time and the wonderful scotch,” she said. “It seems we’re too much on opposite sides of this thing to share information.”
He got up to show her out. “You could always ask Agent Branner,” he suggested with a straight face.
“Oh, right, sure I could,” she said, and they both laughed. Over in his cage, Jupiter chuckled agreeably.
Jim followed her up the companionway. She was tiny, but extremely well made. Up on deck, she glanced around. “Nice boat, Mr. Hall. Consulting pays well, I take it?”
“Consulting pays nothing, unfortunately,” he said. “Guess I’m not doing it right.”
“You must be doing something right,” she said. “I don’t think Agent Branner suffers fools gladly.”
“Agent Branner hunts fools on her days off, for fun and pleasure. You shouldn’t attach any significance to my being in this picture, Ms. DeWinter. I’m helping her read the mids when she interviews them. Sometimes they speak in code. Mids don’t think much of civilians.”
“So I’ve discovered, talking to Julie.” A large yacht glided by under power, headed out of Annapolis for the bay. They watched it for a minute. “The more I get around the Academy, the more I think it’s an anach
ronism in today’s America.”
He nodded. “It probably is, although I think there’s still a place for duty, honor, country in today’s America. Maybe especially in today’s America.”
They both glanced over at the gray mass of Bancroft Hall. The stoical buildings, with their regimented squares of light in rows and columns, dominated the shoreline of Colonial Annapolis. Jim watched the lawyer out of the corner of his eye. Her head came up to about the level of his upper arm. She seemed to be making up her mind about something. He could just detect her perfume.
“Look, Mr. Hall-”
“Call me Jim, if you’d like.”
“Okay. Jim. I’m a civilian. I was married to a military guy once, but he didn’t go here, so I’ve got the same problem that Branner has. Basically, I’ve been hired to keep the system, as everyone seems to call it, from railroading Julie Markham.”
“I suppose that’s possible,” he said slowly, thinking of the commandant. “But Branner sure isn’t approaching it that way. I believe she’s looking for answers.”
“Do you?” she asked. “Or maybe you’ve been invited into this investigation for another reason.”
“Which is?”
“Most of my clients are politicians in trouble. I know how that system works. Whether you know it or not, you might be running top cover for Branner.”
“I don’t get it.”
“Suppose they’ve already decided to lay this off on Julie. Outsiders perceive a midshipman’s death as an Academy failure. This way, they’ll have you to stand up and say that, no, Branner didn’t just go through the motions. You can say you were there and that she conducted a fair and square investigation. Defend her, like you did just now.”
“I still don’t get it,” Jim protested. “I think she is conducting a fair and square investigation.”
“Or she’s going through the motions for your benefit, the decision having been made by the commandant that Julie Markham’s going to take the fall.”
“Branner’s not that devious, counselor. What you see is what you get with her, like it or not.”
“Well, tell me this, then: Whom does Branner work for, as the resident agent for NCIS at the U.S. Naval Academy?”
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