Full Dress Gray

by Lucian K. Truscott

  “We didn’t have to get our stories straight.”

  “Then let’s cut to the chase, and I’ll just pop the question you’re waiting for. Where were you between eight and nine P.M. on October third? It was the Monday before last, Mr. Rose.”

  “I was at the library.”

  “I see. Did you happen to run into Mr. Favro there?”

  “Yes, I did.”

  “Where would that have been?”

  “What?”

  “I mean, where did you see Mr. Favro? In one of the reading rooms? In the stacks? Down in the main lobby?”

  “I don’t remember.”

  “You don’t remember.”

  “That’s right, I don’t remember. And I want to know why we’re being questioned about our whereabouts. It was my understanding that you are conducting an investigation into the cause of Dorothy Hamner’s death.”

  “We are, Mr. Rose.”

  “What does that Monday night have to do with it?”

  “That was the night certain computer disks belonging to Miss Hamner were removed from Jacey Slaight’s desk without her permission. You know anything about that, Mr. Rose?”

  “No.”

  “I was certain that you didn’t.”

  “If that’s all you want to know, I’ve got classes to study for.” Rose stood and moved toward the door.

  “One moment, Mr. Rose.” Kerry’s voice boomed across the small room, stopping him. Rose turned to face Kerry, eyes flashing. “You were seen on the fourth floor of Building 606 that night, down there at the end of the hall where the Department of Law has its offices.”

  “So? I’m taking an elective in international law this semester. I’m down there all the time.”

  “You were seen there at eight-twenty, Mr. Rose.”

  “I had to pick up a copy of the Georgetown Law Review.”

  “And then you went to the library.”

  “That’s right.”

  “But first you stopped Jacey Slaight on Thayer Road and spoke with her. Is that correct?”

  “I think I recall seeing her on my way to the library.”

  “I can assure you that she recalls seeing you.”

  “I don’t know what this proves. I was down at the Law Department, and then I was at the library. So what?”

  “It seems as if your recollection about the events of Monday evening, the third of October, have improved as we’ve gone along, Mr. Rose. Let’s see if you can recall where you were between seven and eight P.M.”

  Rose’s face froze, his lip curled in anger. “I’m tired of your questions. If you’ve got evidence that I broke into Jacey Slaight’s room and stole something, go ahead and charge me. I will warn you right now that if you bring charges against the Chairman of the Honor Committee, you had better be prepared to make them stick, because if you don’t, I’ll file an Article One-thirty-eight against you, and I’ll bring your pissy little career to a screeching halt and have you discharged from the Army for malfeasance, dereliction of duty, and bringing an improper prosecution.”

  “Are you refusing to answer my question, Mr. Rose?”

  “You heard me.”

  “Very well. I’m going to send you back to the barracks with my sergeant. But before you go, allow me to explain a few details in military law of which you are obviously not aware. If you conspire with Favro, Ivar, or anyone else to falsify answers to questions in this investigation, that can be and will be construed as obstruction of justice and perjury. These are very serious charges under the UCMJ, Mr. Rose. Each of them carries a punishment of more than five years in the Fort Leavenworth Disciplinary Barracks.”

  “You are calling the Chairman of the Honor Committee a liar? Wait until the Corps of Cadets hears about this witch-hunt. We take our honor very seriously at West Point, Mr. Kerry. Maybe you’ve lost sight of that fact, sitting down here in your office, playing with your new phones.”

  Rose reached for the doorknob. Behind him, he heard the scrape of Kerry’s chair being pushed back from the desk.

  “You’ve maneuvered yourself into a corner, Mr. Rose,” Kerry called out behind him. “You know what a corner is? It’s a place with only one exit. And you know who’s going to be standing there waiting for you when you want to get out? Me.”

  Kerry picked up the phone and dialed. “Jacey?”

  “Yes sir.”

  “It’s Kerry. Rose just left.”

  “What happened?”

  “I figured he wouldn’t recall what time it had been when he broke into your room, so I put my question to all three of them about the eight to nine o’clock hour. I questioned Favro first. Rose managed to get him on the phone when he returned to the barracks. Favro told him he had been at the library, so Rose was all prepared to alibi himself with Favro at the library.”

  “What happened when you asked him where he’d been between seven and eight?”

  “He refused to answer.”

  “Jesus. He’s the one who did it.”

  “Yeah, but all I’ve got are a few scraps of circumstantial evidence. It’s not enough.”

  “What about Favro and Ivar?”

  “I can squeeze them, but I’m positive Rose will stiffen their spines.”

  “He will. But they’re going to know he’s in more trouble than they are now. They’ll want to start moving away from him.”

  “You’re right. I got the distinct impression from both of them that they didn’t have a clue what happened that night, which tells me that Rose stole the disks, and he never told them about it.”

  “That can mean only one thing, Agent Kerry. All three of them might have had sex with Dorothy, but Rose is the one with something to hide. He’s the only one who was so afraid of what might have been in her E-mail that he felt compelled to steal it.”

  “He’ll crack. He’s only begun to feel the pressure.”

  “I’ve been watching him for three years. I’d watch my step if I were you. He’s smart, he’s well connected, and he’s popular with the Corps of Cadets. He’s got more resources than the average cadet, and he knows how to use them.”

  “That may be so, but he’s already made his first mistake. He’s shown us where he’s vulnerable.”

  “I’m not sure I’m following you,” said Jacey.

  “What could have been in Dorothy’s E-mail that was so damaging to him that he would risk stealing it?”

  “I really don’t know.”

  “Well, think about it. If you come up with any ideas, let me know.”

  “Will do, Agent Kerry.”

  FAVRO’S DOOR burst open and Rose walked in, his face red from exertion. “Kerry knows I called you. He had auto-redial.”

  “But I don’t get it. You called me on one number, and he called me on the other.”

  Rose looked confused. “What do you mean?”

  Favro pointed to his phone. “I’ve got two lines, remember? One is my Second Regiment line, and the other’s the Honor Committee hot line. He called me on the Second Regiment line. You called me on the hot line.”

  Rose slammed his fist on Favro’s desk. “Goddammit! That bastard lied to me! How many calls did you get on the Second Regiment line?”

  “Two. One of them was a hang-up. The other one must have been Kerry. He asked for me by name, then he hung up.”

  “The bastard set the redial by calling you and hanging up. He didn’t know I called you!”

  “Did he ask you where you were Monday night?”

  “I told him I was at the library. He’s going to check, so be ready to cover for me.”

  “What’s that guy up to, man? I thought he was in charge of the Dorothy Hamner investigation.”

  “He’s after the Honor Committee. Jacey Slaight is helping him.” Rose kicked a metal trash can across the room. “We’re going to do something about that bitch.”

  “Hey, man. She’s not some dumb hair-rack like Dorothy. She’s the goddamn Supe’s daughter.”

  “Yeah,” mused Rose, a smile creepi
ng slowly across his lips. “That will make it fun.”

  “When are we going to do it?”

  “Tomorrow night.”

  “Man, tomorrow’s Friday. How can you be sure she’ll be around?”

  “I’ll get Gibson to put her on Guard.”

  CHAPTER 37

  * * *

  GENERAL MEULLER called on Thursday afternoon, the moment his office received the letter from Congressman Thrunstone notifying him that the House National Security Committee would hold hearings on the future of the service academies. On Friday morning, Slaight took the Air Force C-21 the Chief of Staff had put at his disposal. It was a military-spec Learjet, which made the flight to Washington both comfortable and quick. A Pentagon Town Car picked him up at Andrews Air Force Base and deposited him at the river entrance to the Pentagon.

  It had been a while since Slaight had walked across the sky-blue carpet in the office of the Chief of Staff. Out the window he could see the Potomac, and beyond, the Lincoln Memorial and the Washington Monument. To the southeast, he could see the dome of the Capitol.

  General Meuller and the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, the biggest of the big dogs inside the walls of the Pentagon and arguably the most powerful military man in the world, were waiting for him. General Douglas Drabonsky was a former commander of the 101st Airborne Division. He had also served in the 101st as a lieutenant in Vietnam. He was what they used to call “Airborne all the way.” His hair was buzz-cut, shaved clean on the sides with only a half-inch left on top. He was square-jawed and his eyes were a chilly shade of blue-gray. If perchance you were a civilian who walked into a room and found him among those present, your first instinct would be to conclude that he was the perfect West Pointer. However, this was not the case. He was the third chairman in a row who had come from what were euphemistically called “other commissioning sources.” This caused a measure of some pain among West Pointers, but it was of no concern to Slaight. Drabonsky served much the same function that other chairmen of the Joint Chiefs had served since the reign of Colin Powell. He was the voice of the Pentagon in the White House. He worked directly for the Commander in Chief. It was thus left to the chiefs of the individual services to actually get as far down in the trenches as they dared and run their respective organizations: Army, Navy, Air Force, and Marines.

  Slaight saluted the two generals, and the three of them sat down, not in the informal gathering of sofa and armchairs where generals usually conversed with one another, but down at the other end of the office at the conference table. General Meuller presided, while deferring to General Drabonsky at key moments of the meeting. Slaight took immediate note of the fact that they were the only ones in the room. Aides, secretaries, and other hangers-on had been banished. The message Slaight got was that they were nervous about the hearings, but they didn’t want their anxiety to leak into the corridors of the Pentagon where it would catch on like a bad flu.

  There was small talk about Army football to break the ice. Slaight had often wondered what Army generals would do without the ease of talking about Army football. It was the one thing they all had in common, West Pointers and non–West Pointers alike. Everyone rooted for Army.

  When the previous weekend’s game had been adequately dissected, Meuller stiffened his back and cleared his throat in a manner that had probably gotten its start in Alexander’s day, or at least Caesar’s.

  “Ry, I think I made you aware last night how concerned we are about these hearings.”

  “Yes sir. My transportation down here put quite an exclamation point on it.”

  All three generals chuckled at his remark, for indeed there was nothing like the expenditure of federal dollars, even the relatively few that had gone to buy gas for the Air Force C-21, to make a point quickly and forcefully.

  Meuller glanced at General Drabonsky as if to receive his approval, and Drabonsky followed through with a squinty-eyed smile. “Here’s the thing, Ry,” said Meuller. “We have only a sketchy outline about what Thrunstone is up to with these hearings. We’re counting on you to play your hand very carefully. Hopefully, we’ll know more about Thrunstone’s intentions when the press gets wind of what he’s up to. Reporters will start sniffing around Capitol Hill. I think we can count on some leaks from Thrunstone’s committee that will help us.”

  General Drabonsky stopped fiddling a fountain pen and faced Slaight. His squinty-eyed smile was gone, replaced by a grim, stony-faced scowl. “I don’t trust this son of a bitch Thrunstone. We’ve been dealing with him on the budget, but every time we try to pin him down and reach a consensus, he shifts on us, and every goddamned shift has been away from us and toward the Navy and the Air Force. He wants manpower concessions from the Army. Our force structure has been cut to the bone. We’ve gone as far as we’re going to go, and he’s still leaning on us for concessions. He’s trying to shove twenty more B-2’s the Air Force doesn’t even want through his committee. We could put five divisions on the ground and run them full force for ten years for that kind of money, and he knows it. This five-year budget plan has turned into a slugfest, Ry. I’m certain these hearings are a subterfuge. He’s going after West Point, thinking we’ll trade him the Military Academy for another division he wants us to mothball. I don’t know who he’s been listening to, or what he’s been smoking, but Thrunstone is in for one hell of a rude awakening.”

  “Sir, do we know if he’s called any other witnesses?”

  “No, not yet,” replied Meuller. “You’re the only one on the docket for the first day.”

  “Maybe we ought to concentrate some of our resources on his agenda,” said Drabonsky. “We find out who else he’s been talking to, it’ll give us some indication of which way he’s heading with this thing.”

  “I’ll put our Capitol Hill liaison people on it right away, sir,” said Meuller, making a note.

  “Anything we can do for you, Ry?” asked Drabonsky.

  “I assume I’ll be getting briefed by your liaison team,” said Slaight.

  Meuller looked up from his notes. “We’d like to hold that off until just before the hearing. That will give us more time to assemble our intelligence.”

  “How about if I come down the morning of the hearings and meet with your people for a couple of hours before I go in?”

  “That ought to work. You’ve been called for a one o’clock appearance. That should give you plenty of time to be brought up to speed by the liaison staff.”

  Drabonsky straightened his tie, preparing to leave. “I’m glad we’ve got you up there at West Point for us, Ry. There isn’t anyone I would rather have going up against Thrunstone.”

  “I met with him when he was up for the Southern Illinois game, sir. I think he’s got a few points of vulnerability. One of them is the 4-F he pulled down that exempted him from the draft during Vietnam. A friend of mine called a friend of his and looked up Thrunstone’s draft file. His record reflects that he was medically disabled by psoriasis. The day I saw him up at West Point, he looked like he had just stepped off the golf course. I don’t think his psoriasis has put much of a crimp in his style since his draft eligibility ran out.”

  “He plays at Burning Tree at least twice a week, and I’ve seen him at the Army-Navy Country Club course many times,” said Meuller.

  “I’d be careful challenging the Chairman of the National Security Committee as a draft dodger,” warned Drabonsky.

  “I don’t plan on calling him a draft dodger, sir,” explained Slaight. “But I do intend to tell him that I know he pulled down a 4-F exemption.”

  “How do you plan on accomplishing that?” asked Drabonsky.

  “I’ll figure out a way, sir. I think it’s time people learned how some of these drum-beating, flag-waving politicians served their country when duty called.”

  CHAPTER 38

  * * *

  JACEY FOUND a pink phone message slip on her desk when she returned from class on Friday afternoon. The Cadet Regimental Commander had called. She picke
d up the phone and dialed his number. “Tommy? It’s Jace. What’s up?”

  “I got some bad news. You’re on Guard Duty tonight.”

  “What? Company Commanders don’t pull Guard!”

  “It’s some kind of new policy that came down today. They want a four-striper in charge of the Guard Detail on weekend nights. You’re the lucky duck who pulled down duty for tonight.”

  “Who called you?”

  “Reade, Brigade Adjutant. He said the orders came down straight from Gibson this morning.”

  “Oh, man. That’s going to blow my weekend.”

  “Tell me about it. I’m on the schedule for Friday night on Navy weekend.”

  “Okay, thanks, Tommy.”

  “Sorry, Jace. Orders.”

  “I’ve got you. See you around.” She hung up the phone just as Belle walked in.

  “What’s up, girl? You look like you just flunked a test.”

  “Don’t ask.”

  “C’mon, Jace.”

  “I’ve got Guard Duty tonight. It’s some kind of new policy. They’re putting four-stripers on weekend nights.”

  “Oh, God, I’m sorry.”

  “You’re sorry! My weekend just went down the toilet.”

  “You can’t get out of it?”

  “No, but it cuts you loose for the weekend, Belle. Long as I’m pulling Guard, you may as well take the weekend and go to the game.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Your turn will come soon enough. When it does, you can take company duty officer for me.”

  “Okay. If you’re sure . . .”

  Jacey threw her cap at her roommate. “I’m sure! Get packed! You’re out of here!”

  Belle opened her closet and started going through her civilian clothes. Jacey walked out the door and down the hall. She stopped at Ash’s room and looked through the open door. He was curled up under his comforter taking a nap. She tiptoed into his room and closed the door behind her.