“But it does, as a theory, bring us right back to Markham,” she said. “Again. Funny how that keeps happening.”
A plebe walked by, eyed Jim, and finally, just to be safe, saluted. Jim nodded back at him distractedly. “But if I’m right, and I hope I’m not, Dell’s getting killed may actually have been incidental.”
“As in target of opportunity?” Branner said softly. “Like I said, you’re implying a psychopath got through the Academy’s admissions process.” She looked around. The late-afternoon sunlight was filtering through the green haze of new leaves on all the big trees guarding the Yard. There were lights on in some of the rooms facing inner courtyard rooms, and they could see the figures of midshipmen passing by windows. The hum of ventilation systems mixed with the sounds of the Brigade settling into Mother Bancroft for the evening, as one more day in a 150-year tradition subsided. The gilt in the dome of the chapel gleamed its approval.
“The service academies are all about honor, duty, country,” Jim said. “Like you said, Boy Scouts. Young men and women of integrity who want to do something patriotic.” He paused as a final gaggle of mids hurried by, anxious to get into Bancroft Hall before some magic bell went off. “Both sides here are supremely idealistic, when you think about it, both the candidates for admission and the administration. With all those sincere expectations, would they ever see a real psychopath coming?”
“I think I need a drink,” she said, looking at her watch.
“I need to get back to my office, see what’s shaking,” Jim said. He was halfway tempted to ask her over to the boat, but it was clear she’d been very disturbed by his theory. She was definitely going to be working this evening. Besides, he hadn’t forgotten that remark about his current career, or lack of one.
“Let me call you when I’ve had time to think,” she said. “I want to get a second opinion on the forensics report, and I need to talk to my boss. I do appreciate the support, Mr. Hall.”
He smiled. “I’ll tell you my first name if you’ll tell me yours,” he said.
She gave him a bright smile. “What’s yours?”
“Jim.”
“That’s great, Jim. You can still call me Special Agent, I’m afraid.”
“I knew that.”
Ev was gathering up some papers and his briefcase when Liz called. “I’ve heard from Julie,” Liz announced.
“How’d it go with the gestapo?” He tried not to sound too anxious, although Julie had not called him.
“Pretty straightforward, actually. They were following up on the clothes in the locker. Wanted to know how they got there. She told them she had no idea. She also reiterated that she had nothing to do with what happened to Brian Dell.”
“How’d they react this time?”
“They wanted her to take a polygraph test. She told them no.”
“Good girl. Did they ask where you were?”
“Apparently not. She just kept repeating that she didn’t do anything to Brian Dell, not then, not ever. She says she basically told them to chase somebody else.”
“How did they leave it?”
“The interview? That woman just terminated it, after the security officer passed her a note.”
“What? The Academy security officer?”
Liz told him what Julie had said about Jim Hall being at the interview, and that he’d been there when she had accompanied Julie for the last one.
“You mean the black guy wasn’t there?” Ev asked. “This is the Naval Academy security officer we’re talking about?”
“I guess so.”
“Interesting. I ran into him today while I was out for a run. We just sort of fell in together. You know how that goes when you’re running around a track. Now I wonder if that was as accidental as it seemed.”
“I’m not sure what his role in this case is,” Liz said. “The first time, he was just an observer, as Branner put it. But he was definitely there today, and the black guy, Agent Thompson, was not there. As I said, Hall apparently passed her a note and then Agent Branner shut it off.”
“How’d Julie like going solo with the cops?”
“She was brave, but I think she’s getting the picture. I told her that she was living dangerously; then I shut her off.”
“Prolong the feeling of exposure.” This is Julie you’re talking about, he reminded himself.
“Exactly. But the security officer being there bothers me a little bit. That sounds like the Academy might not be keeping itself at arm’s length from this investigation. I’m going to make some calls, see what I can find out.”
“Anything I can do?”
“No, I think we should let it play out for now. They might just move on to some other track.”
“Okay, you’re the boss on that, no matter what my darling daughter says.”
“See the article in the paper today?”
“I did, finally. They never found that guy, I suppose.”
“Not yet,” she said. “The bay doesn’t always give her victims back.”
“Well I know,” he said without even thinking. The comment caught Liz off guard.
“I’m so sorry, Ev,” she said quickly. “That was heedless of me.”
He sighed. “Yesterday was…perfect. Until life intruded again.”
“Think of it this way,” she said. “We-but mostly you-saved two people’s lives yesterday. I saw their faces from the pilothouse. They were finished. That makes it a pretty damn good week, in my book.”
“I was talking about us. You.”
“I know, silly. We can deal with life and us, if we play our cards right.”
“Okay, then, how about coming out to my house tonight?” he asked. “You’re as positive as it gets for me right now.”
“Listen to you! Give me an hour. No-make it two. I think I’m going to take a chance on something.”
Jim went back to the boat after checking in with his office and the chief. Nothing out of the ordinary happening, other than the usual semifrantic preparations for commissioning week, the logistical and security issues caused by the presence of the vice president, the hand-holding sessions being set up for the Board of Visitors, and the media siege over the Dell incident. As he drove through the eternally crowded streets of the harbor area, he wondered if he should lay out his own theory on the Dell case for the dant. Probably not. He wasn’t a trained investigator. Even Branner wanted to consult with her own people. And he could be so wrong. Hell, the kid might have gotten depressed, gone up on the roof to stew about it, and tripped. Plebes were, by definition, screwups.
As he passed by the small marina office, Charlie Mack, the dock manager, stuck his head out the door. There was a woman standing behind him in the office.
“Yo, Big Jim, you got a visitor.”
Jim stopped as Charlie stepped aside and a tiny but fully equipped brunette came out of the office. “Mr. Hall?” she said. “I’m Liz DeWinter. Remember? Julie Markham’s attorney? Can we talk?”
“I’m going to have a beer,” Jim said as he turned on more lights in the main lounge. “Can I get you something?” Jupiter was perch-walking, trying to get a better look at the lady lawyer.
“Thanks, no,” Liz said. “I’m a scotch drinker, but I still have to drive home.”
“I’ve got some twelve-year-old Laphroaig back here,” he said, pausing at the door to the galley area.
“Well, in that case,” she said. “Make it a truly wee dram, though.”
“One wee dram coming up,” he said. “So, how’d you find me?”
“Some serious investigative work. The phone book? You were the only Jim Hall. The other three were all listed as James.”
“That’ll do it,” he said, returning with her scotch in a snifter and his glass of bright black Guinness. “Cheers and confusion to the redcoats.”
“Remember Culloden,” she replied. She tasted the single malt. “Lovely, as always.”
“DeWinter,” he said. “That was your boat yesterday? Picked those people up? You and Professor Markham?”
“Small world, isn’t it?” she said. “And now you’re wondering why I’m here.”
Jim sat down across from her in one of the big leather chairs. She was probably ten years older than he was, but definitely a Slinky Toy, even if she was only about five-one in her stockings. Nice stockings, too. He smiled instead of answering, then waited.