Darkside

by P. T. Deutermann

  “No help from me,” Jim said. “I was trying for China after he combed my hair with that forty-five.”

  “China’s good,” the sergeant said with a grin. “Ah, and here comes Ms. Branner now.”

  Jim turned, to see Branner’s bottom easing backward through the window in the room where he’d been. Behind her were two TAC cops, who held a white-faced Julie Markham between them on the ledge until she, too, could climb through the window. One of the medics who had come up from the third floor took her in tow and wrapped a blanket around her. Branner turned to Jim and blew out her cheeks. “Some guys do all the work; some guys just sit and flap their jaws,” she said. The cops grinned.

  “Agent Branner here was the one on the end of the rope,” the sergeant said. “She was the lightest one up there, so she hung out there to tie the harness on while you kept him busy.”

  “Thank God you guys could hear us talking.”

  “Yeah. And it was all recorded down in the ops van. We catch his ass, he’s DA meat.”

  The radio squawked out a relay call from the perimeter cops. “Suspect broke the perimeter,” someone yelled. “Academy cops say he’s going into Lejeune Hall.”

  Jim looked at Branner. “He’s trying for his lab access.”

  “No way-that’s all flooded,” she said.

  “Not anymore-they drained it, remember?” Jim said. He turned to the TAC sergeant. “Tell them to get people into the basement, down where the swimming pool piping is. There’s a storage room, where they keep the chemicals for the pool. That’s where he’s been getting into the tunnels.”

  The TAC cops got on it while Jim and Branner started trotting down the hallway. “Can he make it?” she asked.

  “I don’t know,” he said, turning down the cross corridor, suddenly aware of his burning back again. Funny how that. 45 had taken the pain away, he thought. “If the approach tunnels to the magazines did collapse, then the magazines still ought to be flooded-nowhere for the water to go, right?”

  They ran down the stairs and outside, Branner flashing her badge as they raced through the perimeter of police vehicles and watching cops. When they finally got to Lejeune Hall, there were more cops milling around outside. By the time they worked their way down to the basement and found the storage room, the door was open and there were TAC squad guys poking flashlights down into the access hole. The big metal plate was still hanging askew, dimpled with bullet holes.

  “Is it flooded?” Branner asked.

  “Nope,” one of the cops said. “Can’t really see shit down there, but it doesn’t look flooded. Somebody better call Public Works. They’ve got crews down there.”

  “So,” a TAC cop asked no one in particular, “who’s volunteering to go down there after his ass?”

  Before anyone could answer, there came a deep sustained rumbling sound from beneath their feet, with the clatter of individual pieces of falling masonry echoing up from the access hole. Then it became very still. The access hole exhaled a small cloud of damp cement dust out into the storage room.

  “May be a moot point,” Jim said, staring at the hole. “With any luck, that right there was bye-bye, Dyle.”

  Just after sundown, a subdued Ev Markham was staring out into Chesapeake Bay from the fantail of the Not Guilty. Liz and Julie were down below, doing something in the galley, and he was sipping some scotch and reflecting on the day’s events. The boat was back alongside its moorings at the Annapolis Yacht Club after a two-hour cruise out on the Severn and its estuary. Ev was very proud of the way Julie was bearing up after her ordeal at the hands of Dyle Booth. She’d been virtually uninjured, unless you counted some bad bruising around her midriff and knees from hanging out the window and a small knot on her head from the rescue exertions. He was mostly relieved that the whole thing was finally over, and that they now knew who’d been behind all the awful things happening at or around the Academy. He heard footsteps approaching out on the floating pier and swung around in his deck chair. It was the security officer, Jim Hall, and Agent Branner. He got up and unlatched the railing gate.

  “Come on aboard,” he said. “Liz is down below. I’ll get her.”

  The two came up the plastic steps on the pier and walked onto Not Guilty ’s pristine deck. Hall was wearing a gray business suit, and Branner was wearing a form-fitting blue blazer over a gray skirt. She kicked off her low-heeled leather shoes as she stepped aboard, in deference to the shining deck. They both looked tired, and Ev offered them a drink, but they both declined.

  “I’d love one,” Hall said, “but then I’d probably fall asleep right here on the boat. We just came by to give you and Julie a quick sitrep. She is here, isn’t she?”

  “Here they are now,” Ev said as Liz and Julie came up the companionway and out onto the stern lounge area. Liz repeated Ev’s offer of a drink, but they again politely declined. Everyone sat down. Ev noticed that Hall was being careful not to rest his back against the curved Naugahyde sofa.

  “I imagine there’s been some paperwork to do after all this,” Liz said.

  Branner smiled. “Many trees’ worth,” she said. “Many trees. With all those cops out there this morning, there’s paperwork about the paperwork. Plus, the Bureau got into it.”

  “When will they want to see Julie?” Liz asked.

  “With any luck, they won’t,” Hall replied. He told them about a three-hour meeting with the commandant earlier that afternoon, after some semblance of order had been restored in Bancroft Hall. With the exception of the room that had been flash-banged, and several bullet holes and lots of broken glass up and down the fourth-deck corridor, the actual damage had been minimal. The mids, disciplined as ever, had reoccupied their building, cleaned everything up, and returned to their routine.

  “We went over the entire case with the supe and the dant during that meeting. I did the part about the tunnel runner, Branner here did the Dell case, and we jointly went over the parts where the two came together. Then we had a separate meeting with our cops, the town cops, and the Bureau people.”

  “So it was Booth in the tunnels?” Liz asked. Ev noticed that Julie still appeared to be distracted, as if she were mulling something over. She’d been very quiet ever since they’d picked her up at the dispensary earlier.

  “Yes,” Branner said. “And it was Booth terrorizing the back alleys of Annapolis with his vampire act. Mr. Hall here managed to get him to talk for the record, as it turned out, because the TAC squad always records its radiophone network anytime there’s an incident.”

  “We’ve been laying low all afternoon, Mr. Hall,” Ev said. “Liz suggested the boat because we could get away from any media and at least the landline telephones. We did call into Bancroft to tell them where Julie was, but no one seemed to want her back right away. Thanks to you, I assume?”

  “What really happened to Brian Dell?” Liz asked.

  “As best we can tell, Booth was hazing him, late at night. He made him do some bizarre things, such as wearing women’s underwear, and perhaps even sexually assaulted him. Our best take on the matter is that Dell did in fact commit suicide after being humiliated one time too many. I suspect that Booth saw it happen, or even egged him on. But that’s all we know, and, of course, that version came from Booth.”

  “So it wasn’t Dell who was gay, but this Dyle Booth?”

  “I think Dyle Booth was just your basic sadist, as well as being someone who hated everything the Academy stood for. He was never really accepted by his classmates, so he ended up holding the entire program in contempt. If I can indulge in a little amateur psychology, I think all this violence at the end, these increasingly outrageous acts, was an indication that he knew he’d never make it in the Corps. He wasn’t homosexual. He was just very badly bent.”

  “But he did do this to Brian to get back at me,” Julie said in a small voice, speaking for the first time. Ev wanted to reach out to her, but she had been so withdrawn all day that he’d been afraid to make the first move.

&
nbsp; A yacht rumbled into the marina from the outer harbor and blatted its horn for a line-handler. A young man came trotting down the pier from the clubhouse. “I think he did this to Brian Dell because he could,” Hall said, casting what looked to Ev like a quick warning glance at Branner. “The fact that Julie had pulled Dell under her wing probably made Dell a better target, but he was already a qualified target for the likes of Dyle Booth.”

  “Shit. Shit. Shit, ” Julie muttered, shaking her head. “I should have spoken up way earlier.”

  “Well, you had something to lose, didn’t you, Midshipman Markham?” Hall said. “He told us about the video.”

  “What video?” Ev asked, sitting up in his chair. Hall didn’t answer, but he looked at Julie expectantly.

  She took a deep breath. “After that weekend in Charlottesville, Dyle sent me a video clip over the Academy intranet. Somebody at the party had filmed everything. I guess you could say I was the star. Dyle said he’d put it on the Web unless I did what he wanted.”

  “When did he do this?” Branner asked softly.

  “The clip came right after the UVA weekend,” Julie said. “Come to think of it, that was probably where my underwear went adrift. But the threat to put it on the Web was yesterday morning. He called it my ‘graduation present.’”

  “Sweet,” Branner said.

  “Where’s the video?” Ev asked.

  “No one knows,” Jim said. He was watching Julie’s face, but she just shook her head.

  “And that’s how he was able to take you prisoner this morning?” Branner asked.

  Julie nodded. “I stewed about it all day and all night. Especially after having to run away from Bancroft Hall last night.” She flashed her father a quick look but then faced away again. “Then when I heard that something huge had happened down in the tunnels, I figured it must have to do with goddamned Dyle. I went to his room, but he wasn’t there. So I waited. A long time. But he didn’t come back. Thirty minutes before reveille, I gave up, went back to my room.”

  “And there he was?”

  “And there he was. All dressed out in his jarhead costume. He put a knife to my throat, said he’d stick Mel if I made a sound. She was asleep in her rack, right there, next to us. He pulled me out into the passageway and put a pillow-case over my head and taped it. After that, I don’t know where we went, but we ended up on the roof. That much, I could tell. Right as morning meal formation was going down, he started screaming crazy shit down into the court. Now I know what Hitler sounded like.”

  “Where’s Booth now?” Liz asked.

  “We think he escaped back down into the tunnels,” Hall said. “The old part, the Fort Severn magazines. Way down there, under Lejeune Hall. But we also think they collapsed while he was down there. Knowing what we know about those tunnels, we suspect he’s dead.”

  Julie just nodded. “Good,” she said. “Dyle needed to be dead. Hell, I think he wanted to be dead.”

  “The final part of our meeting with the heavies was about you, Midshipman Markham,” Hall said.

  “Oh, I can just imagine,” she said. “Four valiant years, down the tubes.” She looked over at Ev. “Sorry to disappoint you, Dad. Almost made it.”

  Ev really wanted to get up and hold her, but Hall was shaking his head.

  “Actually, I think you’re going to be all right,” he said. “There’s maybe something you didn’t know: Booth gave you a roofie that night at UVA.”

  Julie just stared at him.

  “What’s a roofie?” Ev asked.

  “Rohypnol,” Branner said. “The date rape drug. A tasteless, odorless, clear liquid you put in the girl’s drink and she’s all yours, all inhibitions gone, and, what’s even better, she won’t remember a thing.”

  “Holy shit.”

  “He said that? He slipped me a roofie?”

  “Did you get tested afterward?” Branner asked. “Anyone do a rape kit on you? Blood test?”

  Julie shook her head. “I thought it was all me, getting drunk, letting it happen. Just once, in four years, letting go, totally losing control. That was the Dyle effect. And let me tell you, I dreaded that commissioning physical exam like the end of the world.”

  “Well then, you had no way of knowing,” Branner said. “But he told Mr. Hall here that he gave you a roofie. Put it in your drink. You never would have noticed until the next morning, when I’m sure you did notice.”

  Julie blushed but then nodded. “I was so damned ashamed-of myself, of Dyle, even. Everything they teach us here…”

  “Well, like I said, I think this is going to come out all right for you,” Hall said. “The commandant does not view your mentoring Dell as a serious conduct offense. And the fact that you weren’t entirely forthcoming in the NCIS investigation can be justified by the grotesque blackmail Booth was running. They’re working on an official version of events, but your part in it is going to get sanitized. A lot.”

  “Why are they doing this?” Julie asked.

  “Because you really didn’t do anything so very wrong, Julie,” Hall said. “You tried to help some poor plebe who was barely afloat, and in the process you crossed paths with a sadistic monster who had fooled the system, big-time. I think they’re more than a little embarrassed about that too.”

  “But I lied when I said I didn’t know Brian very well!” she said. “That’s-”

  “Understandable, given the circumstances. Before this morning’s events, Booth was already responsible for two other deaths. If it hadn’t been Brian, it may well have been someone else. We think he was getting a taste for it. And what he did last night in the tunnels was absolutely homicidal.”

  Julie shivered. “When he hung me out that window, I thought it was all over. But then he said we’d go together when the time was right.”

  “Sometimes things work out,” Hall said.

  “So it’s finished?” Ev asked. “She can graduate?”

  “As best I can tell, unless she blows an exam or two.”

  Julie blinked and then put a hand to her mouth. “I want to go home, Dad,” she said, finally facing Ev. “I think I want a big sleeping pill and twelve hours to enjoy it.”

  Ev stood up, more than happy to oblige. “When does she have to be back?”

  “They said Sunday night, eighteen hundred,” Hall said, also standing. “Agent Branner will want to get a written statement for the record, but she can do that early next week. Why don’t you take her home, Prof? We’re gonna secure, too. It’s been a long damned night and day.”

  Ev gathered up his jacket and shoes, put his arm around Julie, and escorted her off the boat. He told Liz he’d call her later, and she just smiled and waved. He hoped, as they went up the pier, that the smile was a good sign. He was vastly relieved at the outcome of the meeting in Bancroft Hall and that Julie was going to graduate after all. But in ten days’ time, she’d be on her way to Pensacola, and he still had no damned idea of what he was going to do then.

  Jim watched them go as darkness settled on the marina, and then he and Branner got ready to leave. Branner unsuccessfully stifled a huge yawn as she went over to the railing and began putting on her shoes. Liz DeWinter came over as Markham and his daughter passed out of sight around the clubhouse building.

  “Okay,” she said, looking up at him. “How’d you really manage all that?”

  “Manage what, counselor?” he asked innocently.

  “Getting my client out of the shit. As all you boat-school types have told me repeatedly, they take that honor code very seriously over there.”

  “Oh, that,” Jim said, teasing her just a little until he saw Branner giving him that range-finding look over Liz’s shoulder. “Well, a certain captain, who shall forever go nameless, walked right into my little standoff with Booth on the fourth deck up there. Booth held this officer in somewhat low regard. He emptied a forty-five all around said individual, who was at the time attempting to find that fabled route to the Indies right through the center of the earth.”r />
  “And?”

  “And he may have pissed his pants. Just a little.”

  “Just a little?”

  “Well, perhaps more than a little. Think lake.”

  “Ah.”

  “Yes. And as he was winding himself up this afternoon to unleash the Honor Committee and the Brigade investigators and all the rest of the ethics and morality mafia, I called for a coffee break and had a private word, during which he and I reviewed certain aspects of the incident that had not yet reached the public domain.”

  “How you do go on, Mr. Hall,” Liz said.

  “He’s learning,” Branner said from across the deck. “Slowly, though.”

  “I certainly am. Anyway, in the fullness of time, you can share this insight with your erstwhile client. Maybe after she throws her hat in the air and swears the appropriate oath.”

  “And tell her what, exactly, Mr. Hall? That you blackmailed the dant into letting her go forward?”

  “Call it leverage, not blackmail. Plus it seemed like the appropriate thing to do, counselor. And I guess you can tell her, ‘Welcome to the real Navy, Ensign.’”

  Liz started to chuckle. Jim took Branner’s arm. “Come on, Special Agent. It’s tree time in the city.”

  They drove back over to Jim’s marina, which was not nearly so grand as the AYC, and then had to hunt for a parking place big enough to accommodate the pickup truck. After much backing and filling, he got the thing wedged in between two much smaller vehicles. Branner then discovered that she couldn’t open her door.

  “This damned thing needs tugboats,” she said. “Let me ask you something: You really think Booth’s dead?”

  “Shit, I hope,” Jim said with a yawn. “He was a resourceful bastard. I guess you’ll have to get out this side.”

  She didn’t move. “I mean, what if those tunnels didn’t collapse? What if that was something else caving in down there?”

  “They collapsed when we were running for our lives,” he pointed out.

  “So what was that noise this morning? When we were all trying to figure out how not to be the first one to go back down that hole?”