“Yeah, class of ’93. Went Marine option. I was CO of the MarDet here a coupla years back. Got out, and walked into this job.”
Thompson let the obvious question hang in the air. Shit, Jim thought. This is turning into an interview. Chief was right. “Sure, I ran the tunnels,” he said. “Back then, we didn’t have town liberty like the guys do now. But let me tell you what happened last night.”
When he’d finished describing the attack with the spray paint, the laser pointers, and the vampire getup, Thompson was writing busily in his notebook.
“Thing is,” Jim said, “Chief Bustamente mentioned something about some kids being attacked in town. By a ‘vampire,’ according to the one who was most seriously injured.”
Bagger got a pained look on his face. “A vampire.”
“Yeah, well, some guy dressed up like one. Big guy, too, from what I saw. That’s what those townies said, too. Big motherfletcher. Came up behind them, surprised them. Clapped their heads together while they were gawking. Then he beat up the third guy.”
“And you saw this guy?”
“I mistook the direction from which those laser beams were coming. You know, lasers: They’re instant light. He came from the town side of the tunnel. I was hiding down under a cabinet, and he surprised me. I flashed a Maglite into his face, trying to blind him. Instead, there’s fucking Dracula. In the flesh. In the moment it took me to get my brain around it, he’d blasted a can of spray paint into my face. Then he ran down the tunnel.”
“Why come to NCIS?” Thompson asked, still writing.
“Guy ran back into the Academy side of the tunnels. This is probably a mid.”
“Ah,” Thompson said. “But it could also have been a townie, who ran the opposite way to confuse you into thinking he was a mid.”
Jim shrugged. “That’s possible.”
“And were you able to follow, to see where he actually went?”
“Nope. Had an eyeful of paint.”
“And he was made up like a vampire?”
“He was indeed. I have to tell you, when I got that one look, it didn’t register as makeup. It registered as just what it looked like. Big white face, really red lips, a mile of teeth, red eyes. Too many movies, I guess. But man!”
Thompson nodded. “I’da just plain shit my pants, I saw something like that,” he said. “Don’t much care for vampires and ghost shit.”
“Not that we believe in such things, right, Special Agent Thompson?”
“Call me Bagger,” Thompson said. “And I don’t know what the hell I believe anymore, comes to shit like that. I didn’t believe it was possible to have a homicide here at the Naval Academy, either, Mr. Hall.”
Jim seized the opening. “It’s Jim. And I heard that rumor, via Chief Bustamente. They really have something solid that indicates this kid was murdered?” He used the word they to keep his focus ambiguous.
“Solid?” Bagger said, putting down his pen and closing his notebook. “Forensics have some indications. Indications of restraint. Of course, these marks could have been made under different circumstances. You see what I’m sayin’?”
Jim nodded. “Maybe some kind of sexual fun and games that involved the kid wearing panties.”
“There you go,” Bagger said. “Branner thinks it could even have been some kind of sex domination. Then maybe the kid got so humiliated, he offed himself afterward. But it’s also possible someone threw his ass off the roof.”
“He was alive when he went down, though.”
“That’s the indication. You view the body?”
“Vividly.”
“Well then, you can understand the forensics problem. Plus, there’s major political and media heat. The dant wants accident, death by misadventure, even suicide, anything but homicide.”
Jim shook his head. “Whole thing is pretty sordid,” he said. “When I was here, we didn’t have time for much of anything except studying, classes, sports, and endless tests.”
“And yet you ran the tunnels,” Bagger said.
“Weekends, first class year, and not many of them,” Jim said. “But it was a game, a way of beating the system. Gave you bragging rights, but you kept that within the company classmates you could trust.”
“What would have happened had you been caught?”
“Class-A conduct offense, going over the wall. Unauthorized absence. A bunch of demerits, restriction, shitty grease grade.”
“‘Grease’?”
“Mid slang for military aptitude. Guys who worked hard at pleasing the officers in Bancroft Hall were known as being ‘greasy.’”
Bagger smiled.
“So what happens next with the Dell thing?” Jim asked, trying to keep it going.
“Who wants to know?” a woman’s voice asked from the doorway. Uh-oh, Jim thought. The Branner is back. He saw Bagger tense up a little when she strode into the room. Her face was colorfully made up this time, but she was wearing a severe-looking pantsuit as if to compensate. No leg show today, Jim thought as she slipped into a chair at the head of the table. Her hair was copper-colored in the office light. “Bagger and I were talking about how life at the Academy has changed since I went through,” he said, trying to deflect any questions on the Dell case.
“Why are you here, Mr. Hall?” she asked.
“Came to report a vampire attack in the tunnels under the Yard,” Bagger said with a perfectly straight face.
Branner leaned back in her chair and cocked her head. “A what? Did you say vampire?”
Jim realized that the window of opportunity to talk about the Dell case had just slammed shut. But maybe he could keep something going with Bagger Thompson.
“Bagger here has all the details,” he said, pushing back in his chair. “You guys decide whether or not you want to work it. Although I know you’re busy just now with this Dell thing.”
“I’ll call you,” Bagger said before Branner could say anything. “Maybe you can show me where it all went down.”
Jim handed him one of his cards. “Right. Be glad to take you down there. If this is a mid, we need to catch his ass.”
Branner was looking from Jim to Bagger, obviously in the dark and not happy about that. “If this relates to the Dell case,” she said, “then please remember we have exclusive jurisdiction.”
Jim nodded. “Absolutely, but this has nothing to do with the Dell matter. Bagger, thanks for your time.”
Bagger nodded pleasantly and Jim let himself out the conference room door. He pulled it almost all the way shut and walked down the hall, but slowly. He heard Branner ask her assistant angrily what he’d revealed about the Dell case. Didn’t fool her, did we? Jim thought as he left the building. Plus, she knows for whom I work. But maybe if I can get young Bagger there to run the tunnels with me, I can get him talking again.
He got into his official security officer’s car out in front of the old postgraduate school building. Next stop, the town cops. See what they had on the vampire incidents. But first, he should call the chief. No point in going through channels if Bustamente could get him straight through to the right guy.
At 3:30 Friday afternoon, Jim got a call from Branner, asking him to meet her at the commandant’s office in Bancroft Hall. She and Agent Thompson were going to reinterview Midshipman Markham, and she wanted Jim present as an observer. Jim checked it out with his boss, who shrugged. Jim walked over to Bancroft Hall, where he found Branner and Thompson getting set up in the commandant’s conference room. Somewhat to his surprise, Branner had changed clothes. She was still wearing visible makeup, but now she had on a see-through blouse, which revealed layers of frilly underwear, and a tight short skirt. Thompson, on the other hand, was positively drab in a plain dark brown suit. Branner greeted Jim politely and told him that they would do the talking.
“What, if anything, do you want me to do or say?”
“Say nothing. Just be here. Afterward, we may have some questions for you.”
“Questions?”
“It’s our experience that mids don’t trust civilians. Sometimes they speak in code. You’re a graduate. I’d like you to watch Markham, then tell me afterward if you think she’s lying, holding back, or just giving us the CivLant brush-off.”