Agent Kerry read her handwritten recollection of the message, letting go a low whistle between his teeth as he reached the bottom of the page. He looked up at her. “Maybe you’d better tell me what else you found on her E-mail, as best as you can recall.”
Jacey laid out everything she could remember from the E-mail disks they had found in Carrie’s file box, including the names of the guys who had been at the party at the lake. When she was finished, Agent Kerry again picked up her handwritten recollection of Dorothy’s last E-mail and scanned it. “What do you think is going on here, Miss Slaight?”
“Every guy at that party was on the Honor Committee. I think somehow, in some way, these guys have been misusing the Honor Code.”
“You think this whole thing is about the Honor Code?”
“Yes, I do. I think Dorothy became aware of what they were doing and they did something to her. It’s right there in her E-mail message.”
“This is hardly enough to draw that conclusion.”
“They must have done something to frighten her, or why would she be trying to call her mother at four in the morning if she wasn’t really upset or scared?”
“What if all she was upset about was breaking up with her boyfriend? Girls call their mothers all the time when stuff like that happens.”
“If that’s all it was, why would they go to the trouble of stealing the disks out of my desk?”
“I’m going to need more to go on than speculation. From what you recall from her E-mail, she was very much in love with this guy Favro. Her message to her mother is interesting but inconclusive. What I’m trying to tell you, Miss Slaight, is that you’ve opened up a door for us here, but there’s not much I can see in there. You get my drift?”
“Well then, look at it this way. Dorothy died, Agent Kerry. If these guys were with her the night before, why haven’t they come forward and told you everything they know about her behavior in the hours just before she died?”
“You think they’ve got something to cover up.”
“That is why Rose stopped me outside my barracks. He said if I kept pushing on this thing, I’d be sorry. It was a threat, Agent Kerry. They’re covering up something, and they’re scared, and guys who are scared are capable of doing stupid things.”
CHAPTER 26
* * *
IT WAS just before lunch when Melissa buzzed him. Bassett was on the line. He knew of a new place in Cornwall, north of the Academy, only a few minutes away. It was just a little roadside spot, but the owners—Italians who had fled downtown Newburgh—were supposed to have excellent fried calamari served with a spicy marinara sauce and a fantastic Caesar salad swimming with sardines, laden with crunchy stalks of romaine, and drenched in the real thing, the raw-egg and Parmesan dressing that had made the salad famous before it had been watered down and mass-marketed to the passing masses at chain restaurants whose menus stated that they featured “our famous Caesar salad.” Anything on a menu preceded by the words our famous was like being warned you were about to be served freeze-dried scrambled eggs in a mess hall. There were two things dishes were “famous” for: They were either forgettable or dangerous to your health.
Bassett suggested they forgo the Supe’s staff car and meet instead at his privileged parking behind Building 606, where the beat-up Buicks and occasional six-year-old BMWs of the full colonels were parked. Slaight found Bassett’s own battered BMW parked in the spot marked PROF LAW. Soon Bassett ambled across the lot and unlocked the doors.
The BMW had seen better days. The visors were cracked and peeling and so was the dash. “Why don’t you get yourself one of those sun visor things?” asked Slaight, as Bassett backed out of his spot.
“You’re the Supe. Why don’t you build us a covered garage?” Bassett joked back.
The professor of law was one of those drivers who kept one hand on the wheel, but only as an afterthought. The other hand moved through the air like the wand of a conductor, bobbing this way and that as Bassett gave about 30 percent of his attention to the road and the other 70 percent to whatever was on his mind. It was the first time in years that Slaight had ridden with Bassett driving, and it brought back memories of the last time. He had been a cadet, and he’d been at Bassett’s house for dinner, and Bassett was driving him back to the Academy, all the while his hands flying around the inside of the car like they had lives of their own, which they did. When they had pulled up outside of Grant Hall, Slaight recalled thinking that if Bassett could successfully drive him back to the barracks, then the least he could do was successfully figure out who killed David Hand.
Bassett made a turn off 9W onto a side road that was a back way around Vails Gate. On the right was a little white cottage with about twenty cars parked in front. Bassett found a spot down at the far end of the line of cars and they made their way to the front door, where they were escorted to a table in what must have once been a pantry. There were pipes overhead, and every time somebody flushed the toilet on the other side of the wall next to them, you could hear it.
Bassett dipped a piece of bread in a little pot of olive oil and devoured it eagerly. “I thought you might be interested in knowing that your chief law-enforcement officer, Lieutenant Colonel Percival, has been serving as a funnel of information to the Commandant of Cadets.”
“How’d you find that out?”
“Well, two sources, actually. One of the clerks who used to work in my office is now pushing papers for Gibson. He, uh, reports to me informally on the comings and goings within the Commandant’s office. It seems that Percival showed up there late last week without an appointment. The clerk heard Gibson screaming through the closed door. He made out the words ‘that fucking bitch’ and ‘that fucking Vernon.’ I naturally assumed they were talking about our pathologist, Major Elizabeth Vernon, but I had no idea of the nature of their conversation until Major Vernon herself showed up in my office this morning.”
The waiter delivered two glasses of ice water and stood by, awaiting their orders. Bassett ordered calamari and Slaight ordered the Caesar salad, and they agreed to split a main course of ravioli stuffed with veal and broccoli, which Bassett guaranteed would be more than enough for the both of them. When the waiter departed, he continued: “Vernon was one of my students in military law when she was a cadet. She was one of those students who are a delight to teach. Fran and I became friendly with her and had her over for dinner several times. Major Vernon made a report to Percival last week and became concerned when she wasn’t immediately sent to see Colonel Lombardi, so she followed Percival when he left his office. He went straight to Gibson with a report Major Vernon had just made to him. It seems that Dorothy Hamner had sex with multiple partners shortly before her death. Major Vernon has isolated three separate DNA profiles from a sample taken during the autopsy. She asked Percival to limit knowledge of the DNA profiles to the chain of command, which would mean himself, Colonel Lombardi, and you. When she discovered he went straight to Gibson, she reported it to me, knowing I would take the information straight to you.”
“Smart,” said Slaight. “I know about the DNA. I met with Lombardi this morning.”
The waiter delivered the calamari and the salad, and Bassett speared a crusty set of tentacles, coated them with marinara sauce, and popped them in his mouth. “Man, you’ve got to try this stuff.”
Slaight stuck his fork in a tubular chunk of calamari and did the same thing. “That is good.”
“So what did Lombardi have to say?” asked Bassett.
“He said Major Vernon wants to cross-check her DNA samples against the DNA profiles we’ve got on male cadets. She told Lombardi if they turn out to be cadets, she can identify the individuals who had sex with the deceased girl just before she died.”
“She wants you to order what amounts to a search of the data bank on cadet DNA.”
“That about sums it up.”
“We know where Percival stands on the matter. What was Lombardi’s counsel?”
“He’s against it as we
ll. He said that even if we end up ID’ing the cadets, they could refuse to answer questions on the grounds that the search was unconstitutional, and we’d end up with a scandal instead of helpful information.”
“As a matter of fact, he’s got something of a point there. What can and cannot be done with DNA taken from members of the military is an area of the law that hasn’t been tested. But I’m pretty sure there’s a regulation in there that DNA samples taken under the battlefield ID requirement cannot be used in a criminal procedure. Remember the two marines who refused to be tested, when the whole DNA profiling began? They took the position that they didn’t want to be profiled for the purposes of battlefield identification because there was a chance their DNA might end up being used against them for other purposes. They said the test was an invasion of privacy.”
“I remember now.”
“They were found guilty and discharged for refusal of a direct order. The military court found that the marines had a legitimate interest in being able to ID the dead on the battlefield, which superseded their right to privacy.”
“That was the argument the Pentagon used in the chapel case, wasn’t it? Didn’t they say that the goverment’s interest in seeing to it that cadets received religious training superseded the cadets’ rights to freedom of religion under the First Amendment?”
“The analogy is close, but the cases are different in this way. The DNA test is in fact simply another form of inspection, which soldiers are required to submit to every day, so the military had only to establish there was a legitimate and rational reason for the inspection. In the chapel case, the government lost because the test was far more profound. Faced with the stricture of the First Amendment against the establishment of religion, it was up to the government to establish a compelling reason to require church attendance of cadets. The government lost the case on several grounds, but a major element of the court’s reasoning was that they couldn’t credibly define what the government’s compelling interest was. The government put on witnesses who said that it was absolutely necessary that cadets attend church every Sunday if they were to become effective and honorable officers. You may recall that the plaintiffs called the government’s bluff. If attending church was in fact a requirement to become a lieutenant, then why didn’t the government similarly compel attendance by ROTC cadets?”
“But you’re saying this DNA thing is different.”
“Correct. In the chapel case the cadets were able to prove that the government’s arguments were bogus because the requirement to attend chapel was limited to the service academies, and did not extend to all officers commissioned into the service. In the present case, the government is saying that they have a legitimate interest in being able to ID scraps of human bones and other fragments on the battlefield and so DNA typing should be required across the board. Every member of the armed forces is required to be DNA-profiled. They are not acting in an arbitrarily selective manner here.”
“These are complicated matters, aren’t they?”
“That’s why they pay you the big bucks,” Bassett joked. “You’re the guy wearing the stars. It’s your call.”
“What do you think I ought to do, Cliff?”
“Well, the regs are a little muddy here. While by law they preclude usage of the DNA samples in a criminal procedure, you don’t have a crime yet. No one has been charged. All Major Vernon is attempting to do is establish cause of death. You can make an argument that this is a health and safety issue. Cadet Hamner dropped dead at parade on a hot day. There are parades held in hot weather all the time at West Point. You don’t want any more cadet deaths out there on the Plain. What if Major Vernon discovers that Miss Hamner died because, say, she drank too much coffee in the mess hall that morning? With that information in hand, you could ban coffee on hot days when there’s going to be a parade. The health and safety of the cadets is arguably your highest priority as Superintendent.”
“So you think I ought to order the search.”
“Go ahead and do it. There’s a chance the DNA in the sample will turn out to belong to civilians. If it turns out to be cadet DNA, and we ID them, they’ll be called in and questioned. They’ll be afforded all of their rights, and if they refuse to answer, the legal process will run its course, if indeed there’s a course to be run. I just don’t see that there’s a downside. You can always defend your decision to execute the search on the health and safety grounds.”
Slaight ran his thumbnail between the two black stripes down the side of his uniform trousers.
“Cliff, do you remember back when I was a cadet and I came to see you about that Honor Code business? Officers were using the Honor Code to enforce discipline. They would ask cadets leading questions. If you told the truth, you got punished. But if you failed the tell the truth, they found you on Honor. I remember you told me it wouldn’t be the last time in my life that I would face a situation where you were damned if you did, and damned if you didn’t.”
Bassett laughed. “Here we are, back where we started.”
Slaight picked up his fork and stabbed another ring of calamari. “It’s tough, Cliff. What is it they say about DNA? It’s the building block of human life. I don’t think we should trifle with our genetic identities. Maybe our genes will end up being the last bastion of privacy we have.”
Bassett looked over at his old friend. “Like I said, that’s why they pay you the big bucks, Ry. But I’ve got to warn you not to overthink this thing. When you get to be our age, there are limits to the advantage which can be gained from pondering the damn thing to death.”
Slaight laughed. He knew exactly what his friend meant. When you’re young, going at problems from every possible direction is fun, and you can only gain from it. But there was an old Academy adage they used to tell plebes:
You’re not being paid to think, mister. You’re being paid to act.
The waiter delivered the order of ravioli and divided it between two bowls. As Slaight dug into the pillows of pasta floating in a rich meat broth, he made up his mind. It was time to act. “I’ve decided to order the search.”
“I think you ought to be careful with Gibson. There’s a reason he’s gotten Percival to leak the results of the investigation to him. He’s trying to stay ahead of you. He’s trying to find a way to influence the results of the investigation before they reach your desk. I don’t know what his motives are—”
“Let’s talk about Gibson for a moment, Cliff,” Slaight interrupted. “We’ve got a dead body here at West Point. Why do you think he is trying to influence the investigation?”
“I guess you never tried to figure out who killed David Hand, and you never came up against a Commandant of Cadets whose name was Hedges, did you?” said Bassett sarcastically. “Gibson is responding to the investigation of the death of Miss Hamner in exactly the same way Hedges responded to your investigation of the death of David Hand. He doesn’t want anyone messing with his cadets. They belong to him, don’t you see, Ry? It’s plain old turf, only this time the turf is human beings. He’s trying to protect his ownership of them.”
“Well, Gibson’s going to get a lesson about who’s running things at West Point if he keeps up this crap.”
“He can make real trouble for you, Ry. He’s got a pipeline leading directly to Thrunstone. If Thrunstone decides you’re the Antichrist, you had better believe the members of his National Security Committee will plaster ‘Slaight’s the Antichrist’ posters all over their districts and shout it from the rooftops.”
“You know what? I don’t give a damn. I’m going to push, and they can push back. If Gibson wants to play hardball, then I guess we’ll see who’s got the best bat.”
Each of them chomped away on their ravioli for a few moments, then Bassett looked up at Slaight and caught his attention. “This isn’t about who’s got the upper hand, Ry. What this is about is the future of West Point.”
CHAPTER 27
* * *
THE GATHERING that afternoon a
t four P.M. in the office of the Superintendent of the United States Military Academy included the entire law-enforcement chain of command at West Point: Lieutenant Colonel Percival, the Provost Marshal; Colonel Lombardi, the Staff Judge Advocate; Chief Warrant Officer Kerry, the CID Special Agent in Charge of the investigation; and Major Vernon, the pathologist.
They sat around a small conference table at the far end of the Supe’s office. There was no one else present. Not a secretary, not an aide, not even the Commandant. Gibson had been excluded because he fell outside the official chain of command in law-enforcement matters. Besides, Slaight knew Percival had been leaking every development in the investigation to him, and he didn’t trust Gibson’s motives. Slaight made a show of closing the door to his office. He walked over to his desk and punched the button on his phone for his secretary.
“Yes sir.” Melissa’s voice boomed over the speakerphone.
“Hold my calls. I don’t want to be disturbed unless there is an emergency.”
“Understood, sir.”
Slaight walked directly to the head of the conference table and leaned forward, placing his hands on top of the table with his fingers splayed. Glancing down, his eye caught one of the blue veins crisscrossing the backs of his hands. It was pulsing.
“What I have to say to you people does not leave this room. Is that clear?”
Heads nodded, more than one a bit uncertainly.
“I’ll say again: Is that clear?”
There was a chorus of “Yes sir’s.”
He took his seat at the head of the table, but he didn’t lean back. He sat forward on the edge of the chair and looked from one person at the table to another.
“You are aware of the current status of the autopsy conducted by Major Vernon. We do not yet have a positive cause of death, but we do know that Cadet Hamner did not die from heatstroke, and we know that she had sex with multiple partners less than twenty-four hours before her death. Major Vernon has DNA typing from the three males who had sex with Miss Hamner. I’m going to order a search of the DNA profiles of all male cadets at West Point and direct Major Vernon to conduct a cross-check in order to see if there are any matches. Questions?”
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