“Midshipman Markham, this is a question we have to ask, for the record. It’s actually two questions. One, did you kill Midshipman Dell?”
“No!” Julie protested in a loud voice. She hadn’t even looked at Liz, who once again put her hand on Julie’s arm. This time, she squeezed.
“And the second question is this: Have you done anything, anything at all, in the entire time you have known Midshipman Dell, that might have contributed to his death?”
“My client will not answer that question,” Liz announced before Markham could say anything.
“Why not?” Branner asked.
“Neither she nor I has to explain our decision,” Liz said. “Next question?”
Branner leaned forward, looking directly at Julie. “You understand, Midshipman Markham, that by not answering that question, you necessarily draw our attention to you?”
“Let the record show that Midshipman Markham’s attorney considers Agent Branner’s last statement a threat and has therefore decided to terminate this interview.”
“Wait a minute, wait a minute. I withdraw that statement. It’s just-”
“Next substantive question?” Liz said, keeping her hand on Julie’s arm.
Branner sat back in her chair and slowly tapped her pen on the edge of the table. She glanced at her notebook. “You are on the women’s varsity swim team?”
“Yes.”
“Was Midshipman Dell connected in any way with the swim team?”
Liz cocked her head at Julie, then nodded. “Yes,” Julie said. “He was one of the managers.”
“Managers?”
“It’s not like in pro sports,” Julie said. “All midshipmen are required to participate in intramural sports, and they are encouraged to try out for varsity sports. Plebes, too. If you try out but eventually get cut, you can sometimes stay on with the team as a manager, a helper bee. They carry equipment bags, act as timers, unload luggage from the bus, stuff like that.”
It looked to Jim like this was all news to the lady lawyer, who was taking notes for the first time.
“Would you have had contact with Dell in his capacity as a manager on the swim team?”
Liz nodded. “Not really,” Julie said. “He would be helping out with the plebe swimmers, not the upperclassmen. Besides, he was a diver, not a swimmer.”
“Does the team travel as a group to away swim meets?”
“Yes.”
“But you had no contact with Dell?” This from Thompson.
“He was a plebe. I’m a firstie, a senior. I might talk to or coach another plebe swimmer who swam my own event, but not plebe managers.”
“Would he show up for practice sessions here at the Academy?”
“Yes, of course.”
“Does the team practice every day?”
“During the competition season, yes.”
“So it would be fair to say that you had daily contact with Midshipman Dell during the competition swimming season?” Branner asked, a tiny gleam of triumph in her eye. But the lawyer was ready.
“Don’t answer that,” Liz instructed. Julie said nothing.
“Why not?” Branner asked.
“Because I didn’t like the way you phrased that, Agent Branner. Plus, she’s already told you that she had little or no contact with Dell, that he helped out with the plebe members of the team, not the seniors.”
Branner started to say something, tapped her pencil three times, and then Thompson picked up the questions. Definitely rehearsed, Jim thought.
“Is the swim team a close-knit organization?” he asked.
Liz nodded. “Fairly close,” Julie said. “I mean, we all cheer one another on during the various events. We practice two, sometimes three hours a day, early in the morning and again after class. Swimming is extremely competitive, both within and among the teams.”
“Do the women on the swim team tend to hang out with the men on the swim team?”
Julie looked at Liz, who hesitated but then nodded. “Some do,” she said. “But most midshipmen date outside of the Academy.”
“How about you?”
Liz told her not to answer that. “That’s not germane here,” she declared.
Thompson, unlike Branner, appeared to take that in stride. “Okay. Do you know if Dell formed any close associations on the swim team?”
“No,” Julie said before Liz could give her permission.
“No, what? No he didn’t, or no, you don’t know?”
“No, I don’t know. He was a plebe. He wouldn’t have much time for dating in any event. And never an upperclassman.”
Thompson consulted his notes. Liz tapped Julie on the arm and pointed to her previous note about answering questions. Julie nodded and mouthed the word sorry.
“Are plebes allowed to date upperclassmen?” he asked.
“No.”
“Are plebes allowed to date anybody?”
“Dahlgren dates on Saturdays,” Julie said. “There are lots of rules. You really have to want to be with someone.”
“Did Dell date anyone that you know of?”
“Don’t know,” Julie said. “He was a plebe. Unless he was in my company, I wouldn’t know and wouldn’t care.”
Thompson nodded equably. “I’m done,” he said, looking to Branner.
“I’m not,” she said. “Midshipman Markham, are you involved romantically with anyone here at the Academy now?”
“She’s still not going to answer that, Agent Branner.”
“I think it might be pertinent to our investigation,” Branner snapped.
“Then go find out by yourselves,” Liz replied. “But based on the tone and drift of this interview, I’m assuming certain things about your view of my client.”
“Such as?” Branner snapped.
“Meaning that I think you’re investigating her, not Dell. So from now on out, there won’t be any more of these interviews. Is that understood?”
“You don’t get it, do you?” Branner said, her voice rising. Jim watched with growing interest. “We have the authority to interview Midshipman Markham anytime we please, as long as we execute the Article Thirty-one form. This is military law we’re talking about.”
“Fine,” Liz said. “You can, of course, interview her all you want, but she’ll have nothing to say, will she? Nor can you draw any inference from her silence, to which she is entitled under American law. As for now, this interview is concluded.”
Liz stood up and nudged a surprised Julie to do the same. She retrieved her recorder and indicated to Julie that she was to follow her. Neither agent said anything as the two women left the conference room. Jim saw Julie start to speak, but Liz put a finger to her lips until they had walked out of the commandant’s office area. Jim got up to stretch while Branner spoke into the recorder, stating that the interview was concluded. Then she turned it off. Branner swore.
“Wasn’t all that bad,” Thompson said.
Branner tossed her head impatiently. “Goddamned lawyers,” she said. “Mr. Hall, what was your take?”
“My job doesn’t involve real police work,” he said. “The only interviews I’ve seen are on television. That said, I think you hit the old blue-and-gold wall.”
“Is that like the cops’ big blue wall?” Thompson asked. “Like when Internal Affairs comes around?”
“Yeah, I think so,” Jim said. “I mean, I can’t feature one mid killing another for any reason. But there’s always been a cops and robbers atmosphere here, what with all the regulations, rules, laws, procedures. You ever heard the expression, You rate what you skate?”
“No,” Branner said, interested now.
“Well, it means basically that you can do what you can get away with. Usually applies to the chickenshit end of the book, as opposed to honor offenses and the serious stuff. And there’s a serious taboo against bilging a classmate. You know, ratting out.”
“She was a very uncooperative witness,” Branner said.
“For what it’s worth, I think the lady lawyer was right,” Jim said. “You kinda made it sound like Markham was a suspect, not a witness. There was one point, though-when you asked if she’d been in her room all night. I thought she hesitated.”