“Thought you said you hadn’t done interviews?” Branner said.
“You said you wanted my impressions. You just got one.”
Ev heard the phone ringing as he went up the back walk from his boat dock, but it went to voice mail before he got into the house. He’d gone out rowing on the Severn again to take advantage of an almost-perfect afternoon calm. The Academy’s varsity eights had swept by in a glorious echelon formation, but he hadn’t even tried to keep up. There was a message from Liz to please call her. He showered, changed clothes, and then made a drink. He called her back from the study. She told him that there had been another short-notice interview that afternoon, which is why she hadn’t had time to alert him beforehand.
“Interesting. So, how’d it go?”
“Just fair,” she said.
That got his attention. “Only fair?”
“Well, it was definitely adversarial. Part of that was a function of my MO when dealing with police interviews: I try real hard to control the flow, and I can be abrasive about it. Part of the problem was that Agent Branner. She came in with a pretty big chip on her shoulder.”
“But what were they looking for?”
“As I anticipated, some connection between Julie and Dell. Something besides the underwear thing. Julie did get it on the record that he could have obtained the underwear in a laundry mix-up. Apparently, that happens.”
“That’s true. Or it did in my day. Although they usually just lost it, period. Or sent it back full of holes. Is this a homicide?”
“They’re acting like it, and yet I’m not sure they’re sure.” She reviewed the questions and answers, and explained why she’d shut some of the questions off. “Based on some of the questions, I think they’re case building.”
“Against Julie?”
“Against whoever emerges out of the fog of evidence. With some cops, it’s often a toss-up as to whether they want to find the truth or just close the case. The latter outcome is often preferable.”
“Shit.”
“Yeah. Look, you said you wanted to help.”
Ev put down his drink. A mission. “Shoot,” he said.
“I learned some things today that neither you nor I knew. For starters, Dell was a manager on the swim team. Which means that Julie could have had daily contact with him during the competition season.”
“Wait a minute. He would have been working the plebe bench, so she-”
“Yes, Julie explained that. But in their words, she could have had daily contact with Dell. It is possible.”
“But hardly likely.”
“You understand that; I understand that. But a jury might not understand the system, the fact that plebes and firsties don’t associate, other than in the Sturm und Drang of plebe year.”
“O-kay, I guess I can see that.”
“You’re thinking like a human, Ev. I’m thinking like a lawyer.”
He chuckled. “Got it,” he said. “And my assignment?”
“I want to know more about Julie’s love life, if she has one.”
“Why don’t you just ask her?”
“I intend to. But I’d like you to corroborate and elaborate.”
“Well, as you observed, I might be the least informed in that area, and I don’t exactly pry. She is an adult, about to be a commissioned officer.” He moved his appointment book to make room for his drink, knocking the book off the table in the process.
“I know, Ev, but she talks to you. I’m just asking for some backup here.”
There was some frustration in Liz’s voice. Ev reached down to retrieve the book while he considered it. “Sure, Liz, I’ll try,” he said. “There’s Tommy Hays, of course, but I think he’s on the outs right now. I can make up a list of the kids she’s brought back here on weekends this past year. But I’m going to guess the swim team is the place to look. They’re together for hours a day in practice, and then at the away meets, long bus rides, parties after the meets in away towns.”
“Do they practice a lot?”
“Oh, hell yes. Actually, I was on the swim team when I went through. That’s where Julie gets it, probably. We used to get up before reveille, zero dark-thirty. Hit the pool until zero six-fifteen, then went back to our rooms for regular reveille and morning formation, then did it all again after class.”
“Really,” she said, and he heard something in her voice.
“What?”
“Well, I wasn’t going to bring this up, but they asked her where she was when Dell died. She told them, asleep in her ‘rack,’ as she called it.”
“Rack, right. Mids love their racks.”
“Then they asked her if she’d been there all night.”
Well, of course, he thought. Then he understood. “Ah. And she said?”
“She said yes.”
“But you had the sense that she would have preferred not answering that question.”
“Right.”
Ev thought about that. “Well,” he said slowly, “if she’d gotten up for swim practice, then technically she was not in her room all night. Oh, I get it: If she wasn’t in her room, then she could have been what-throwing him out a window?”
“I know, I know, it’s ridiculous, but visualize the interview transcript being read into evidence: ‘Were you in your room all night?’ ‘No, I wasn’t. I was-’ ‘Thank you, Midshipman Markham, you’ve answered my question.’”
“Holy shit!”
“Cops. Case-building cops. That’s how they do it, Ev, which is why potential suspects do not go to interviews without their shysters.”
“Damn. Does she fully understand that?”
“I think she got a glimmer today, although she’s still resisting it. I told NCIS there wouldn’t be any more interviews. They can, of course, tell me to pound sand. If they detected what I detected, they’re going to pull the string on the early-morning swim practice routine. I’d like to know in advance.”
“Well, that’s easy enough. I’ll find out if there was early practice, and if she was there. I can do that through the Athletic Department. Although, the season’s over. And she’s graduating. I would guess they’re not doing that anymore.”
“I need to know, and then I’ll sort it out with Julie. And Ev? Let her call you. Let her tell you about the interview. I’m going to go through all of this with her. What I need from you is-”
“Right, ‘corroborate and elaborate.’”
She didn’t say anything for a moment. “If you’re uncomfortable with this, I can do it on my own,” she said.
“Hell yes, I’m uncomfortable, but I want her protected. You’re the protector. It’s my job to help you.”
“Thank you. I do understand how you feel.” She paused. “There’s this eight-hundred-pound gorilla that’s beginning to materialize in the back of the room, isn’t there?”
“You do have a way with words, counselor,” Ev said wearily. “But yes, there is. You’re saying Julie, in some fashion or other, might be involved in this mess after all.”
“I’m sorry, Ev.”
“Thank you. I appreciate what you’re doing.”
“Hold that thought,” she said, and hung up.
At ten o’clock on Friday evening, the two investigators met in back of Mahan Hall, by the grating entrance. Jim indicated the map. “I propose to take you down the way I went the last time. Show you the main tunnels, the access points. See what you think about catching this turd.”
“Let’s do it,” Bagger said.
Jim took Bagger into the main tunnel that ran under Stribling Walk, heading back toward Bancroft Hall this time. He showed the agent the main utility vaults, the access flap doors to the big storm drain, and the branches leading to the various academic buildings. The closer they got to Bancroft Hall, the more pronounced was the hum of machinery and electricity.
“This system is supporting all eight wings of Bancroft Hall, and the four thousand people inside,” he said. “Heat, lights, potable water, sewer, telephone, electricity, computer networks, and, pretty soon, chilled water for air conditioning. Every dorm room has water, steam heat, computer lines. Group heads for men and women. It’s big.”
“Yeah, it is,” Bagger said, speaking softly. Something about being in the tunnels had them lowering their voices. “Can they get directly from Bancroft into any of these tunnels?”