A Long Day for Dying Page 10

  General Morley came forward, saying easily, “A van is being arranged to transfer them here, General.” He extended a folder to Simon. “The information on the passengers you requested. Office and home phone numbers, addresses—everything.”

  Smoothly done, I thought. Markel and Morley were trying to appear the picture of cooperation in front of Senator Garber and Secretary Churchfield.

  Simon took the folder, scanned the contents, closed it. “When exactly, General?”

  Morley frowned.

  “The passengers,” Simon said. “When will you have them here, General?”

  Morley hesitated. “Twenty minutes,” Markel snapped.

  Simon nodded and stepped back.

  Amanda whispered in my ear. I nodded; I’d already decided to get this commitment in the presence of Senator Garber.

  Secretary Churchfield addressed Simon, “Well, if everything is satisfactory, Lieutenant, I think the senator and I would like to go—”

  I was about to bring up the request, when Amanda cleared her throat. Churchfield frowned at the interruption. A glance at Amanda’s face told me that she’d decided to handle this. I thought that unwise, since she was in the military, and tried to shake her off.

  But she was already stepping past me, saying, “Madam Secretary, we still need to interview the Joint Chiefs who were aboard the plane.”

  Her eyes went to Markel.

  No smile this time. He contemplated her with open disdain. If Amanda was unnerved, she gave no sign. She kept looking back expectantly.

  “General?” Churchfield said.

  “It would serve no purpose, Madam Secretary. It was an accident. We have nothing to add.” He shrugged, checked his watch.

  “Sir,” Amanda said, “we still have questions that we need—”

  “It was an accident,” Markel repeated. “This is ridiculous. A complete waste of time.”

  A pause. Senator Garber was frowning. Secretary Churchfield quickly said to Amanda, “Something will be arranged.” She nodded to the admiral, who dug out a notepad. “Admiral Wheeler will contact you with a time and date.”

  She looked away, signaling that Amanda was dismissed.

  But Amanda didn’t move. She just stood there stubbornly. While I admired her resolve, I thought she was foolish to push this now.

  Yet her ploy worked, and Churchfield was forced to acknowledge her again. “Something else on your mind, Major?” Her voice was ice.

  Amanda took a deep breath. “We need to talk to the generals this afternoon, ma’am.”

  Churchfield appeared stunned. So did General Markel and the rest of the entourage. A junior officer making demands to the SECDEF? Unthinkable.

  “Major,” Churchfield said, “I’m afraid that’s impossible. Perhaps next Monday or Tuesday, but I cannot guarantee—”

  Simon said, “Senator.”

  Taking the hint, Garber said to Churchfield, “Look, Joanna, the president made it clear he wants a determination by this evening—”

  Churchfield angrily interrupted him. “I’m aware of that, Benton. But General Markel and the Joint Chiefs are planning the deployment for Iraq. You know the details have to be formalized by—”

  “I’m not asking, Joanna.”

  Garber said it casually, but his words had an instantaneous effect. Churchfield froze, staring at him. She slowly nodded. “As you wish, Benton. General Markel…”

  Markel said, “Madam Secretary, I must protest—”

  Senator Garber coughed loudly.

  Markel glared at him. The two men stood there, staring at each other. Markel’s face darkened, and tiny veins appeared above his temples. He seemed on the verge of losing—

  Abruptly his face relaxed, as if a switch had been turned off. He turned to Amanda and said stiffly, “Twelve hundred hours. In the Tank. We can give you thirty minutes.”

  “Thank you, sir.” She drifted back.

  The Tank was the Joint Chiefs’ secured briefing room, located in the Pentagon. Ideally, I would have liked to question each general individually, but I didn’t want to push our luck, since I had a follow-up request.

  After I asked it, Churchfield again nodded to Admiral Wheeler, who made a quick call. A plainclothes Pentagon policeman would secure Garber’s office.

  “Anything else?” she asked me.

  “No, ma’am.”

  As Simon, Amanda, and I led the entourage up the stairs to view the body, we saw Markel pivot and walk rapidly toward the exit. He took out a phone and furiously began punching in a number. Simon murmured something under his breath that I was close enough to hear.

  “We have a suspect,” he said.

  14

  Andy and the entire forensics team were packed in the hallway outside the compartment. Their awed faces followed Secretary Churchfield and Senator Garber as they went inside. Even though I’d never been a fan of the senator, it was wrenching watching his reaction to the body of his son. He bent down and gently stroked a cold cheek. He kept it up until his eyes brimmed wetly. Seeing his grief reminded me of my own devastation when Nicole passed away. As painful as that was, I thought how much I loved my daughter Emily and knew nothing could compare with the loss of a child.

  Glancing at Amanda and Simon, I saw they were also moved by what they were witnessing. Particularly Simon, who two years earlier had lost his chauffeur Romero, the former NYPD cop who had been his father figure, mentor, and protector.

  Senator Garber rose from the body. He took out his handkerchief, wiped his eyes, and blew his nose. Simon gently placed an arm around his shoulders. They spoke quietly, and Simon removed his rosary beads.

  My eyes went down the small semicircle of faces. Most were respectful, but devoid of any real empathy—an understandable reaction, considering the way they felt about General Garber.

  Then I noticed the figure standing near the door.

  For an instant, I thought I must be seeing things. This was the last person I would have guessed would feel any compassion for General Garber. But there was no mistaking the constant swallowing or rapid blinking. The face turned, and our eyes locked.

  This time the secretary of defense was the one who looked away.

  “Shall we pray?” Simon said.

  When the prayer ended, Secretary Churchfield immediately ducked out the door with her security men. Everyone else slowly filed out behind them. Simon and Senator Garber left together, conversing quietly. I came up behind Amanda in the hallway and whispered in her ear. We continued up to the front of the plane as the group exited out the passenger door.

  “What’s up?” she said, facing me.

  She was already shaking her head before I’d finished. “No way. You must have misread Churchfield’s reaction, Marty.”

  “I didn’t.”

  “Isn’t it possible you—”

  “No.”

  “But it doesn’t make any sense. Churchfield couldn’t stand General Garber.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Everyone knew it, Marty. It was common knowledge at the Pentagon that they didn’t get along.”

  She was talking about the Pentagon’s rumor mill. I said, “That doesn’t prove anything.”

  “Katietold me Churchfield despised Garber.”

  “She said those words exactly.”

  “Well, no. But she did say Churchfield considered Garber incompetent and immoral—”

  She stopped. She realized what I was getting at. Just because Churchfield considered Garber professionally inept didn’t mean she couldn’t have had a personal relationship with him. And with Garber’s history as a womanizer…

  Amanda sighed. “You know you’re reaching big-time on this.”

  “Maybe.”

  “I suppose you want me to check.”

  “Please.”

  She reluctantly took out her phone and made the call. “Katie? Amanda. Got a quick question—”

  Amanda listened, then held out the phone to me. I could hear someone laughing out
loud.

  “Satisfied?” Amanda asked me.

  As Amanda and I went down the portable staircase, we saw that the hangar was empty except for the two security cops. We headed out across the concrete toward the side door and pushed through into the bright sunlight. Simon was standing a few feet away, his back to us, his eyes on two air force staff cars that were pulling up to a military Blackhawk helicopter. The passengers, led by Churchfield and Senator Garber, emerged from the cars and began climbing aboard.

  “I don’t like this, Martin,” Simon murmured.

  “No.”

  The two staff cars swung around and sped out across the ramp, away from us. In the lead vehicle driven by Major Vega, we could make out two hulking shapes in the backseat, members of the SECDEF’s entourage who were remaining behind. Mutt and Jeff.

  Amanda eyed us grimly. “Can we stop them from interfering with the investigation?”

  “I doubt it,” Simon said. “They’ll justify their presence by saying they only want to observe.”

  She gestured toward the hangar. “So we let them poke around. Intimidate the hell out of our people.”

  He shrugged.

  The helicopter’s engines roared to life. The rotors started turning, picking up speed. Moments later, the helo rose awkwardly into the air and chattered across the field toward the west.

  Simon checked his watch and gazed down the flight line toward base operations. “Five minutes.” He was talking about the time remaining until General Morley promised to deliver the passengers. I wasn’t holding my breath.

  Amanda said, “Better get here soon. We need to be on the road in an hour, to make the meeting with the generals.”

  “We’ll question the key people first,” I said. “Anyone we don’t get to, Paul and Tommy can handle.” As I spoke, I was watching the staff car driven by Major Vega. It had stopped at the far end of the flight line, near a group of SPs. The SPs turned to look in our direction.

  “They’re up to something,” Amanda said, voicing the obvious.

  “Screw them,” I said. “I got an idea.”

  After I explained, Simon said I was wasting my time. And I probably was. Still, it was better than letting them waltz in here without a fight.

  When the staff car finally drove off, I walked over to the entry control point.

  When the female cop passed me her access list, I saw that two pages had been added. The first contained the eleven passengers that we were expecting. The second had only two typed names: Tom Hansen and Ernie Kelley. There was no rank, and the unit affiliation read simply “Dept. of Defense.”

  I crumpled the page and shoved the ball in my pocket.

  The cop stared at me in shock.

  Returning her clipboard, I smiled pleasantly and read her name tag. “Mind doing me a favor, Airman Reardon?”

  She hesitated, then slowly shook her head.

  “Tell Major Vega what I just did. Tell him that if anyone gets into the hangar without my okay, I will personally arrest his ass. You got that?”

  She tried to speak, and coughed. Her head bobbed.

  As I turned away, I heard her key her radio. Her words streamed out in a nervous falsetto. “Chief, it’s Airman Reardon. You’ll never believe what happened. That OSI cop Mr. Collins just ordered me to…”

  I caught movement to my left and looked toward base operations, half expecting to see the staff car roar around the corner. Instead, a shiny blue air force passenger bus was rolling toward us.

  I checked my watch. A minute to spare.

  I about-faced to wait.

  I glanced around as Amanda joined me near the entry point. “Where’s Simon?”

  “He’ll meet us in the maintenance offices. He wanted to give Andy a check before he leaves.”

  “Acheck? Why?”

  “Didn’t say.”

  An ear-splitting screech as the bus braked to a stop. We could see the passengers in the back. As Amanda and I went over, it gradually dawned on me what Simon was up to. I shook my head, thinking I shouldn’t be surprised. After all, this wouldn’t be the first time he’d resorted to a bribe.

  The cop started toward the bus, carrying her clipboard. I waved her off, saying, “We’ll handle this, Airman Reardon.”

  She slowly nodded and backed away from the door.

  Amanda and I entered the bus. Eleven sets of eyes were focused on us, their luggage piled on seats beside them. A female lieutenant colonel was sitting right up front, a mousy-looking blonde with stringy hair and tired eyes. I dismissed her and moved on to the remaining women. A matronly major sat to the right. Behind her, the female security cop with the killer bod whom Andy had mentioned. But I agreed with Amanda’s assessment that even a oversexed hound dog like Garber wouldn’t be crazy enough to screw around with an enlisted girl who might squeal to her dorm mates.

  My eyes came to rest on a slender brunette sitting in the last seat. She easily passed the looks test, but seemed too young to be the aide to a four-star.

  I looked to her shoulders. Her silver oak leaves glinted in the sunlight.

  “Bingo,” Amanda said.

  Innocence.

  I decided that was the quality Colonel Weller most exuded. Her rank told me she had to be in her mid-thirties, but she looked ten years younger. A fragile, petite woman with liquid blue eyes and full lips, she possessed a Kate Moss–like vulnerability that a lot of men would have found hard to resist. Then there was her voice, deep and husky and sensual as hell.

  Weller hesitantly entered the big office across from the maintenance break room, where the remaining passengers were cooling their heels. I had to ask her twice before she joined Simon, Amanda, and me at the circular conference table. As she recounted the events leading to the discovery of General Muller’s body, she continually clasped and unclasped a handkerchief in her hand. Occasionally her voice would quiver, as if the memory was hard on her. Everything she’d told us jived with what we’d learned from Andy.

  When she finished, she looked at her perfectly manicured hands and seemed to will them to relax. Up close, I could see she wore eyeliner and a hint of rouge, but no lipstick. She focused her beautiful eyes on me, saying, “That’s everything. That’s what happened. Agent Hobbs suggested I wait because there would be questions. I thought that was…silly. I mean, it was an accident. That’s what I thought, and now…” She trailed off with a little head shake.

  I said, “We don’t know he was murdered, Colonel.”

  “But you obviously think he was. That’s what all this…why you’re asking all these questions.”

  “Do you think he was murdered?”

  She appeared startled. “No. Of course not.”

  “Isn’t it true that General Garber had enemies?”

  She gave me a long look. “You already know the answer.”

  “I’m talking about the other members of the Joint Chiefs.”

  “There was some…resentment.”

  “Over his appointment to the chairmanship?”

  A nod.

  I said, “I assume they also resented him for other reasons?”

  “You mean like some kind of personal grudge?”

  “Yes.”

  She thought, then shook her head. “Not that I’m aware of.”

  I frowned. “You must have overheard something. Witnessed arguments, or—”

  “I didn’t,” she said.

  “Surely, Colonel—”

  “Look, I’m not saying they didn’t have their disagreements. I’m only telling you I never witnessed any. The only time I was around General Garber and the other chiefs was in social settings or when we traveled. In public, their relationship was a little strained, but cordial. You might check with Garber’s exec, General Bryar. He was the one who accompanied him to the meetings in the Tank. If any of the chiefs got into an argument with Garber, it would probably be there. You know. Behind closed doors.”

  She looked and sounded completely sincere. I said, “None of the other generals’ a
ides ever mentioned any particular grudges their bosses had?”

  “Not to me.”

  Amanda’s head popped up from the notes she was making. Like me, she knew this couldn’t be true. Generals’ aides were notorious for gossiping among themselves about their bosses. Now we had to ask ourselves why Colonel Weller was reluctant to reveal what she knew.

  Before I could press her, she said quietly, “You’re wrong about the chiefs.”

  “Wrong?”

  “You’re thinking maybe one of them did it. Killed General Garber. They didn’t.”

  I got it now. She was playing the loyal staff officer, unwilling to give me anything that could be construed as a motive. “You sound pretty sure about this.”

  She slowly interlaced her fingers and set them on the table. “I am.”

  “Mind telling me why?”

  “I know the kind of men they are.”

  “That’s hardly specific.”

  She gave a little shrug.

  “You mentioned the relationship between General Garber and the chiefs was strained”—I waited for the nod—“implying they disliked him. In your opinion, who resented General Garber more? General Markel or General Johnson or—”

  The head shaking began.

  “—perhaps General Sessler?”

  She sounded exasperated. “Noneof them. I told you they wouldn’t have killed him. Theycouldn’t. ”

  Her pretty face was locked on me in a glare. Watching her, I thought she either truly believed in the generals’ innocence or was one hell of an actress.

  I also detected something in her reaction that didn’t quite fit. It was the same contradiction I’d noticed earlier, when she’d described finding General Garber’s body. I glanced to Simon and Amanda. They were both watching her with interest.

  “Loyalty,” Simon said, “is an admirable trait, Colonel.”

  Weller blinked, as if surprised that he’d actually spoken. Since the introductions, Simon hadn’t said a word. This was often his pattern during the initial phases of an interview. He liked to sit back and gauge things, coming to life only when he saw an opening.

  He must have seen one now, because he continued smoothly, “You impress me as a dedicated officer, Colonel.”