“Sir,” Hays said, eyeing Jim warily, “all I can say for sure is that Julie wouldn’t hurt Brian Dell. But Dyle Booth? That’s another story. I think he’s the guy did my computer up that way.”
“Did you get any threats?”
“Not directly, but the last time we did swim practice together, he was giving me the shark shit. And of course he knows Julie and I were…well, what we were. Before he did whatever he did to her down in Charlottesville.”
Jim heard the rationalization in Hays’s voice. He clearly was not willing to accept the notion that whatever happened at UVA might have been entirely consensual.
“And that’s all I know,” Hays said. “And, like I said, I can’t prove shit.”
“You didn’t tell this to Captain Rogers? Even after somebody tried to zap you?”
“No, sir. No proof. Plus, Julie’s really sensitive about Charlottesville. Besides, today? Captain Rogers was in the transmit mode. He didn’t want to hear anything from me or the other guys other than ‘Aye aye, sir.’”
Jim remembered the shark tag with the WD entwined in the limbs of the stick figure. “What was Dell’s first name? Brian?”
“No, sir. William was his first name. William Brian Dell.”
Jim thought it over. WD. And we’re back to Markham, he realized. Plus Midshipman Dyle J for Jones Booth. “I’ve got to discuss this with Special Agent Branner,” he said. “She may want to hear this firsthand, or she may go directly to Markham.”
“Sir?” Hays said, his expression tense. “Julie-Midshipman Markham-won’t talk about what happened between her and Dyle Booth. Not to me, and probably not to anyone. I got the impression it was humiliating in some way.”
“Not as humiliating as what happened to Brian Dell,” Jim said.
Hays didn’t respond.
“You’re on the honor board, Mr. Hays. We both know the Academy is about to slam the lid on this incident. Maybe even as we speak. Look, Branner and I are not after Julie Markham. But if she won’t talk to us, her expectations for a glorious commissioning week are going to blow up in her face. You understand what I’m saying?”
“Not exactly, sir.”
“Ultimately, Mr. Hays,” Jim said softly, “even if the Dark Side buries it, internally they’ll want to blame somebody. This dant always has to blame somebody, right? And it’s never gonna be the system’s fault, is it? She won’t commission.”
Hays blinked but then nodded. He stared bleakly at the Severn River, where three haze gray YPs, signal flags flying, were rumbling in toward the seawall to practice mooring, pursued by a cloud of diesel exhaust. Jim prepared to get up from the bench. “You and Julie Markham still talking?”
“She’s polite. As long as I keep it casual.”
“Okay. If Markham won’t talk to us, we’ll question Booth. Tell her that. Ask her which version of the story she wants us to hear.”
Hays frowned.
“Another thing,” Jim said. “I’m telling Branner for two reasons. One is to find the truth. Second, to protect Markham.”
“From?”
“From Booth, dummy. If he’s the badass you say he is, once we bring him in, he may decide that Markham pointed the finger.”
“But she didn’t-I did.”
“He can’t know that, can he? So if you still value that young lady, make sure you stay in touch with her tonight, at least until you hear from either Branner or me that we have Booth. Got it?”
Hays nodded again while he massaged his calf muscles. A breeze off the river stirred the trees around them.
“There’s more to this than I’m telling you,” Jim said, thinking now about that shark business. “This guy could be a whole lot more dangerous than you appreciate. Does Markham’s lawyer know any of this?”
“I don’t know, sir. Julie’s not exactly sharing right now.”
“You better start. You’re done exercising. Go find Markham. Tell her that we know. Tell her we’re going to confront Booth. And even if she doesn’t want it, stay nearby.”
“Yes, sir.” Hays gulped, looking afraid. “I got it.”
It was 3:30 by the time Jim got cleaned up and back to his office, where he put a call in to Branner. Voice mail. Then he called her cellphone. More voice mail. He hung up without leaving a message. Okay, Special Agent, where the hell are you? he wondered. He called her cell phone back and left a message this time for her to call him ASAP, adding that he had a line on a possible suspect in the Dell case.
He had a big decision to make. Tell the dant what he’d uncovered about a possible link connecting Markham, Dell, and this Dyle Booth, or wait to talk to Branner first. If the heavies were coming back in the cover-up mode, they’d tell him to go back to supervising parking tickets in the Yard. The dant had put him into this spider fight, and the dant could take him back out, or even take his job. A direct order from Captain Robbins was never an exercise in ambiguity. It would be a lot more difficult to back Branner off the case, unless she, too, received some unambiguous guidance from her own chain of command, who had apparently been present at the elephant conclave up in D.C. today.
His phone rang.
“You try to call me?” Branner asked.
“Yeah, both lines.”
“And you didn’t get me, just like Harry Chang can’t get me right now unless he drives down here and clamps my wheels. I got back-channel word that they’re shutting the Dell case down. SecNav decision. They’re gonna rule it an accident, a DBM. Kid went up on the roof, fell off. End of story. I was on my way up to headquarters when a little bird whispered in my cell phone, so I shut off my phone and turned around. Checked voice mail and got your message.”
“Right,” he said. “Tommy Hays, Markham’s ex-boyfriend? He came to me with a name. We need to talk, but not on an open line.”
“Well hell, detective,” she said. “How about your place?”
Ev checked his voice mail when he got back to the office at 4:15. No messages from Julie or anyone else. He could understand not hearing from Julie. She might not even get back to her room until five o’clock or later, and she wouldn’t be carrying her cell phone around the Yard. But he was a little worried about Liz, after basically having told her he didn’t want to see her last night. He shut his office door, took a deep breath, and called her office.
“You’re not mad at me, are you?” he blurted.
She laughed. “Of course not. Besides, my first ex blew into town last night for some corporate board meeting. He called me and we went out, got seriously drunk, and I think we had a grand time. Have you heard from Julie?”
He was so taken aback by what she’d said that he was about one second slow in answering. He consciously had to keep the surprise out of his voice. “Uh, no I haven’t. I put a call in to her cell phone voice mail, but, um, heard nothing.”
“Ev?”
“What?”
“I was kidding, Ev.”
“Oh, good,” he said without thinking. He heard her laughing again. Now he felt like an idiot. A teenage idiot at that.
“I’m so damned frustrated,” he said. “With all this… stuff going on with Julie. Cops in Bancroft Hall. Having to pretend that either the mids or I give a shit about classes at this point in the year. The dant taking me aside to make threats.”
“I did talk to Jim Hall. He confirms that they can hold up a commission. He says it’s usually done with football players who can’t pass the commissioning physical, but they can do it to anyone.”
“Great,” he groaned. “And where the hell’s Julie?”
“She’s got her head down. Exams are imminent. I’d suggest we leave her alone until something definitive happens. You’re letting your imagination wear you down.”
“That’s for damned sure,” he said, running his fingers through his thinning hair. “It’s just that I feel I’m supposed to be doing something. Not just sitting here.”
“Actually,” she said, “the less you do, the safer Julie probably is. Call me tonight.”
“I will. If I don’t shoot myself first.”
“Go row your boat again. But only half as hard this time.”