Jim looked over at Branner. “When did all this happen?”
“The E-mails started during dark ages-January or thereabouts. It was like I was his best friend, so he could tell me all this shit. He’d even send pictures. There was this one, where he dressed up as Dracula or something. It just bannered on my screen one night while Mel and I were retrieving some papers. It even had sound. Mel damn near fainted, it was so real, so clear…and so Dyle.”
“You think he was getting into your room, messing with your computer?” Branner asked.
“No, I think he did it over the Brigade intranet. Dyle can make computers do anything he wants. He claims to have done shit on the faculty intranet, too. Like penetrate the faculty servers? He sent me a single history exam question once, and it was on the exam the next day.” She looked at both of them. “He talked about you two. That he’d done stuff to you.”
“Did he ever threaten you?” Branner asked.
“What do you mean?” Julie said, looking at Liz as if for help.
“Did he ever say that if you didn’t come across, he’d do something to you? Hell-o, Julie? A threat, you know?”
Liz intervened. “Where are you going with that question?” she asked.
Branner sighed. “If this guy was threatening Midshipman Markham, she should have gone to her chain of command. Obviously, she didn’t. I’m wondering why.”
“Julie was a three-striper,” Hays said. He saw Liz’s confusion. “A striper, you know, a midshipman officer. She was a three-striper on the battalion staff. If she’d gone to the Dark Side about Dyle, she would’ve had to tell what happened down at UVA. That she got drunk and had sex with a classmate. Total loss of personal control. It would have destroyed her reputation in the battalion and probably in our class. Wasn’t going to happen.”
“From what you’ve told us, I’m wondering why Dyle Booth didn’t tell,” Branner said. “To get even for you shutting him down.”
“Not his style,” Julie said. “First, because that would be bilging a classmate. Not done. And second, I think he wanted to hurt me himself. The E-mails were some kind of campaign, as if he were exposing himself to me. And then he found out about Brian Dell. That I was secretly helping him. I think he decided it would be more fun to terrorize Dell than to come at me directly. And since, strictly speaking, I was outside the chain of command in helping Dell, I couldn’t report Dyle for that, either.”
“But surely Dell’s own mentors, his youngster, the other youngster in his own company-they would have known that Booth was going after this kid.”
Julie shook her head. “That was the thing. Dell’s youngster resigned halfway through the year. Didn’t come back after Christmas leave. He was failing three subjects, and he’d decided he hated being here. So Dell didn’t have a youngster. No top cover. That was one of the reasons I took him on.”
“Wouldn’t somebody in his company have seen it happening?”
“Not with Dyle. He’d come in the night. Or catch Dell out on one of the athletic fields. Ambush him coming back from an E.I. you know, extra instruction, session. Sometimes Dyle just…appears. Plus, that company isn’t one of the better ones. The youngsters in his company knew that Dell was adrift, but it meant they had one less plebe to worry about, so they let it slide. They probably were clueless about what Dyle was doing. Hell, I didn’t know about Dyle’s running him until just before…before Brian, you know.”
“What happened?” Jim asked.
“Dell came to my room shortly before taps. Melanie was studying in the next room with some of her friends. He wanted to go topside. He was really upset. We used to talk sometimes, up on the roof. Guys go up there when they want privacy. He asked if we could meet that night, after taps. I said okay. He seemed really down, really tired. He was this little guy, you know? He looked about fourteen that night. So I said I’d meet him.”
“And did you?”
“Yes. That’s when he told me about Dyle. That he’d been ordered to come around to Dyle’s room at all hours. That Dyle was putting shit in his E-mail account, that Dyle had penetrated his computer, erased homework assignments, shit like that. Dyle would appear after midnight sometimes, or real early in the morning. Brian said he was scared of Dyle. That Dyle was making him do stuff.”
“‘Do stuff’?”
“He wouldn’t say what exactly, but I got the impression that Dyle was, like, turning him out. You know, maybe sexual humiliation stuff? Like he assumed Dell was gay. You have to remember-Dyle was twice Dell’s size.”
“ Was Dell gay?” Branner asked.
“I don’t think so,” Julie said. “More like weak. Math wizard, supposedly a high-scoring diver, but I don’t know where he ever competed. He was wiry, but too small.”
“Why didn’t he report what was going on? Tell me this wasn’t normal plebe year stuff,” Jim said.
“Not at all. It’s really changed, even since I’ve been here. It’s much more structured now. That’s what all the mentoring layers are about. But even so, plebes don’t go to the Dark Side with complaints against the upperclass, not if they want to stay here.”
Jim knew this was true. The way the system was supposed to work was that a plebe’s own upperclassmen would step in if someone got out of hand. “Was he suicidal?”
“No. Just down. Felt he couldn’t win. And Dyle was scaring him. He wanted to put his chit in. Resign. But not kill himself. He talked about going to another college. ‘A real one,’ he said.”
“What did you do?”
“When I heard how bad it was getting, I told him to go back to his room and that I was going to get it stopped.”
Branner had been taking notes. “How?” she asked, looking up.
“I didn’t know at the time. But I had pretty much decided to go to Dell’s company officer and tell him everything I knew. They had some other problems in that company that I’d heard about, so I figured they’d be in the mood to deal with an outside firstie running one of their plebes.”
“And did you?”
“No,” she said. “Because I ran into Dyle Booth on the way back to my room. I’d swear he knew I’d been up there with Dell. I don’t know how, but Dyle gets around, especially at night. He said he’d been to my room, and then he’d come topside to find me. Anyway, I told him off. Said I was going to get this shit stopped, one way or another.”
“And what did he do?”
“He went all cold. Gave me his big-deal shark look. That’s what we call it on the team. That wall-eyed thing he does underwater. Told me to go ahead, knock myself out. Got real calm, like he had a plan all ready. That scared me, actually. I’d expected him to get in my face. But he backed off, said he had something to do that night out in town, and that he’d be ready to deal with the Dell problem in the morning.” Julie shivered. “I had no idea then-”
“Did he actually threaten to do something to Midshipman Dell?”
Julie shook her head. “No, it was more like I could do or say anything I wanted to, but it wouldn’t make any difference. To him or to Dell. I know now I should have gone right to the OOD, right then and there. But I was scared, and I didn’t know what I was going to do the next morning. It never occurred to me that he’d-” She stopped, tears forming in her eyes.
Jim was about to ask another question, but he felt Branner’s hand touch his arm. Wait, she was signaling. See what she says next. Jim waited for her to continue.
“I got back to my room, and Mel was already asleep. I decided just to hit my tree, regroup in the morning. Like I said, it never occurred to me that Dell was in physical danger. I figured that Dyle might run him harder, or do some physical hazing. But he’d said he was going over the wall, out into town. So I figured nothing would happen that night.” She looked up at them, anguish in her eyes now. “I got that wrong, didn’t I?”
Tommy Hays moved sideways in his chair and took her hand. He looked at both Jim and Branner. “Hey?” he said quietly. “This is the Naval Academy. This kind of
shit, this kind of guy-this doesn’t happen here. We’re here to become naval officers. We all bitch and moan about the system, but we believe in it. The officers believe in it. Somehow, this evil bastard got in, and the system can’t see him because they’ve forgotten how to look for some psycho like this.”
“Julie,” Liz said, “do you think Dyle Booth actually killed Brian Dell?”
“I don’t know,” Julie said in a very small voice. “He was big enough, and Brian was small. If he got him up on that roof, you know, by ordering him to go there, walk the ledge, something like that, he could have. Why don’t you ask him?”
“That’s next,” Jim said. “Liz, I think you and Julie here need to go see the commandant. The supe, even. They need to hear this.”
“I disagree,” Liz said. “At least for the moment. You said yourself they were going to blame her for what happened to Dell. I wouldn’t advise her to make it easy for them.”
“I failed to take action,” Julie said in a low voice. “I am responsible.”
“Dyle Booth is responsible, Julie,” Jim said. “From everything I’ve heard about this guy, he’d have found a way to get to Dell even if you’d gone to the OOD that night. It’s not like you could have proved it.”
“What are you two going to do?” Liz asked Jim.
“Mr. Hall and I are going over into the Yard and summon Mr. Booth to the front office for a little chat,” Branner said.
“Good luck with that,” Julie said.
“Excuse me?”
“Because he probably already knows you’re looking for him. I don’t know how, but that’s just Dyle. I mean, there were lots of people around when the mate came down and said I had to go see NCIS. Bancroft Hall is a hive. Word gets around fast.”
“We’ll see about that,” Branner said. “But we have other business to discuss with Mr. Booth, over and above the Dell incident.”
Jim stood up, and so did Branner. “Ultimately, you’ll have to go talk to them, Julie,” she said.
“Why?” Liz asked.
“Because they need to hear the truth. Up to now, the administration’s been playing the usual political game. Protect the Academy’s image at all costs. But this is very different. We have a damned good indication of homicide here. And even if the dant still wants to run for cover, the supe won’t. Admiral McDonald’s not that kind of guy.”
“You have an awful lot of faith in the system, Agent Branner,” Julie said.
“I think Tommy here was correct,” Jim said. “This system wasn’t designed to spot a psychopath.” He looked at his watch. “Liz, we’ll call you when we get something. Right now, we need to move out.”
Jim and Branner walked into the OOD’s office in Bancroft Hall fifteen minutes later. Branner asked that they summon Midshipman First Class Dyle Booth to the office. The OOD said he first needed to get permission from the deputy commandant, Captain Rogers. Two minutes later, Rogers came into the OOD’s office and asked them both to step into his office. Closing the door, he told them that he had orders to refer any requests from NCIS directly to the commandant.
“This is basically a continuation of what we started with the honor board,” Branner said. “We have new information.”
“I hear you, Special Agent,” Rogers said. “But we’ve had a SecNav determination in the Dell case, and now the commandant has directed that NCIS activities in regard to the Dell case be suspended. Mr. Hall, we were told that you had been informed of this.”
“The commandant told me to back out, yes,” Jim said. “But Agent Branner here hasn’t received any such instructions from her chain of command. I came along to see what was going on.”
Rogers gave him a peculiar look, as if to say, Nice try, sunshine. Just then, Captain Robbins opened his door and summoned them both to come in. He told Jim to close the door and then, standing behind his desk, addressed himself to Branner.
“Special Agent Branner, what’s this all about? Where have you been? Your people have been trying to contact you.”
“We’ve been meeting with Midshipman Markham and her lawyer,” Branner said. “We have new information on the Dell case.”
“There is no more Dell case,” the dant said firmly. “The SecNav has directed a finding of death by misadventure.”
“But my investigation wasn’t finished. How can anybody make a determination until the investigation is finished?”
“There are larger issues at stake here, Agent Branner,” Robbins said, sitting down. “We know that Dell went off the roof and died as a result. You were directed to rule out homicide. You were directed to proceed expeditiously. I’m assuming you did that. You reported no evidence of a homicide.”
“I didn’t report at all,” Branner said, obviously getting angry.
“Mr. Harry Chang would contradict you, I think,” Robbins said. “At least he told the SecNav that no evidence of homicide had been uncovered.”
“We weren’t finished, damn it. Mr. Chang knows that.”
“That’s not what he said to the SecNav. He said you had no evidence.”
“But there is new information,” Jim said. “And we need to-”
“You, sir, need to go back to your regularly assigned duties,” Robbins said. “Any taskings related to the Dell case are hereby rescinded.”
They just stared at him. He put up his hands. “Look, this thing has gone on long enough. We’ve been beaten up in the media. Rumors and innuendo abound. Dell’s parents are being torn this way and that. The Board of Visitors is asking questions. The supe and I are of the opinion that any further rooting around will only make things worse. We need to move on. The SecNav agrees.”
Jim could see that Branner was about to unload with both barrels, so he tried to preempt her. “Captain Robbins, we have reason to believe that another midshipman, a firstie, was involved in what happened to Brian Dell. Maybe even had a hand in it. We can’t close this case until we at least pull that string.”
“ We can and will close the case, Mr. Hall. This is no longer a matter for your concern. If Special Agent Branner has reservations, she should take them up through her own chain of command. We are done with this thing.”
“And you’re willing to let a murderer graduate from your wonderful institution?” Branner asked.
“Ms. Branner. Those are strong words. Let me ask you right here and now: Do you have a single scrap of physical evidence that someone, anyone, murdered Brian Dell?”
“No, but I do have evidence that a senior naval officer is obstructing me from ever getting our hands on such evidence.”
The word obstructing hung in the air for almost fifteen seconds while Robbins and Branner glared at each other. Then he punched the intercom and told his secretary to get Mr. Harry Chang at NCIS headquarters on the line. Then he swiveled around in his chair and stared out the windows down into Tecumseh Court. Jim and Branner looked at each other. They were still standing in front of the dant’s desk like a pair of truants. Then one of the lines lighted up and the secretary announced that Mr. Chang was holding on line one. Robbins, still facing away from them, reached back for the phone.
“Harry? Have you been in contact with Special Agent Branner lately?”
He waited for a reply. “No, but actually, she’s right here. I’ve explained to her that the Dell thing is being shut down. She says that she has new information and that I’m obstructing a murder investigation. Would you like to do some calibrating?”
He listened for a few seconds, then turned around to hand the phone to Branner. “Mr. Hall, come outside with me, if you please.”
Jim followed Robbins out into the secretarial area, closing the door behind him so Branner could have some privacy. No doubt Chang was going to go off on her.
“Mr. Hall, you like your job here? You want to keep it?”
Jim looked down at him. Robbins’s face was controlled, but the anger was clearly visible in his eyes. The secretary tactfully got up and left the room. Jim tried to think of something really c
lever to say, but before he got anything out, Branner appeared in the doorway.
“Captain Robbins?” she said in a perfectly neutral tone of voice. “Mr. Chang would like a word.”
Robbins gave Jim one last meaningful look and went back into his office. Branner looked at Jim and tipped her head in a “Let’s go” motion. They left the office suite and went out into the Rotunda. He started to ask her what had happened, but she shook her head. They went on outside into Tecumseh Court. Night had fallen. They walked in silence down the wide worn steps, flanked by ancient bronze cannons, and continued down Buchanan Road until they reached Jim’s truck. They got in and sat there in the shadows created by the streetlights. The white bulk of the superintendent’s quarters, Buchanan House, gleamed in a bath of floodlights to their right.
“I am so pissed off, I can’t see straight,” she growled through clenched teeth.
“I got asked if I liked my job,” he offered. “If that’s any consolation.”
She grunted.
“I was trying to think of some really cool reply just when you came to the door,” he continued. “And how’s Mr. Chang this evening?”
“Showing lots of teeth.”
“Neat trick over a phone.”
“But one he does rather well. I think he figured out I’d been playing coy with the phones this afternoon.”
“Did you get to explain that we have new information on the Dell case?”
“There is no Dell case. And, no, I didn’t, because I was invited to go into the receive mode right from the start.”
“Know that feeling,” he said. “I really did want to ask the dant what it was he was going to do to Julie Markham, but he seemed to have a locked transmitter, too.”
“I can’t believe they’d just fold the whole thing under a rug like this.”
“Well, I don’t agree with it, but I can see how the people up in D.C. might talk themselves into it. The SecNav asking Chang, ‘You have evidence of anything other than an accident?’ ‘Negative,’ Chang replies. SecNav says, ‘The security officer down there, you know, that world-famous detective? He’s got some wild-ass theories, but evidence?’ ‘Why, no, Mr. Secretary.’ ‘All right, then. Wrap it up. Whole Navy’s getting a black eye. Enough, awreddy.’”
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