“It’s Wolfgang von Rensel,” the big man said. “In high school, they called me Train. It was a football nickname.”
“Train,” Pennington said, savoring the image with a grin.
“Perfect. Train it is. Anyhow, this JAG plays a lot of things pretty close to his vest-. Likes to work the back channels, set things up before he makes any significant moves, especially when it concerns flag officers. Your predecessor here was unfortunately not very adept at that kind of work.”
“Having pancreatic cancer might have had something to do with that,” von Rensel observed.
“Yes, indeed, and we’re sorry that he passed away. But Warren Beasely was not the kind of guy this JAG had in mind for the liaison job. I’m told that you, on the other hand, are not unused to working off-line?”
Train smiled noncommittally. “I think Admiral Carpenter and I reached an understanding during my reporting-aboard call, Captain,” he replied. “I hope to make myself useful.
I was pleased to find that he seems to know exactly what he wants’from people.”
“Oh, yes, he certainly does that. You may not be aware that he’s short-listed for a judgeship on the Court of Military Appeals. So he’s being especially careful these days, which is probably why he’s having Karen look into whatever this is all about.”
“Oh, supposedly Captain Mccarty will be in touch with you about all this,” Karen said.
Pennington sat back. “Ah, the chain of command. Better late than never, I suppose. Okay. Mr. von Rensel, since you’re replacing Beasely, you might as well take over his cube. The yeoman will set you up.” Thank you, Captain,” von Rensel said. He nodded at Karen and backed out of the captain’s office, being careful not to knock any walls down. Karen remained behind.
“So,” Pennington continued. “In the meantime , you will be acting on private instructions. As before.”
“Yes, sir,” Karen said. She had done one other investigatory assignment for Admiral Carpenter, involving a seale had sent her after the Tailhook scandal. She had information on three individuals, but she had never learned how that information had been used or what, if anything, had happened to them, or why he wanted it in the first place.
That also was vintage Carpenter.
“And no shipping-over lectures?” Pennington asked gently.
She smiled. “Not this time. Although I suspect he has some high hopes that this kind of assignment might change my mind about leaving.”
“I can’t imagine the admiral being so devious,” Pennington said with a straight face, and then they both laughed.
“I’m not going away mad, Captain,” she reminded him. “I’m just going away. The Navy’s been terrific. Oh, okay, not always terrific, but certainly far more interesting than doing corporate law or political flack work here in D.C. It’s just that with Frank gone, the fun’s gone out of it. I’m forty four years old, no kids, no family to speak of.
Going on with the career just seemed … pointless.”
Pennington nodded sympathetically. “The only observation I can offer is that your Navy work could at least fill the void for a while.” He paused to let her consider that, but she said nothing. “Qkay. Get on with whatever he’s got you doing this time. And I’ll pretend to be appropriately surprised when Mccarty calls down.”
She gave him her best smile. “Thanks, Captain.”
She checked her voice mail when she got back to her cubicle, but there were no messages. Frank had often called her during the day, usually leaving a mildly obscene message or a two-line joke on her voice mail.
And yet, try as she might, she could not quite sustain a perfect halo of love and remembrance around her late husband because of that nagging detail that nobody wanted to talk about: why Frank had been at that hotel in the first place. The question that would not go away. And the roaring silence that followed whenever she asked the question, along with the inescapable conclusion that perhaps her whole marriage to that congenial, successful, and ostensibly loving man had been a sham.
She sighed and placed a call to Sherman’s office. She was put on hold.
Then there was a click. “Admiral Sherman.”
“Admiral, thank you for taking a moment. I wanted to let you know that I’ll be calling the Fairfax County Police this afternoon to see ‘what I can find out about their investigation. Basically, my tasking is to find out if they are going to continue with it or declare victory and go home.”
“That sounds reasonable,. Commander,” he said. “It wasn’t exactly clear after the meeting what they were going to do. ” t
“No, sir, it wasn’t.
Anyway, I’m going to be in contact with them, low-level sort of thing.
They may choose, of course, not to give me the time of day.”
“That would tell you something, wouldn’t it?” He was silent for a moment. “Look,” he said. “I’m going over to her house this evening.”
There was another short silence on the line. “To Elizabeth’s house,” he continued. “Elizabeth Walsh. I’ve got this need to see where it happened-her accident. I don’t know if that makes any sense-“
“Yes, actually, I do understand, Admiral,” she interrupted. “Frank, my husband, had a heart attack in a hotel lobby.” She heard a sharp intake of breath, although Sherman said nothing. “I got to him in the hospital, but he never … surfaced, as they put it. A week later, I found myself standing in that hotel lobby. There was nothing to see, of course, but I felt that need just to, well, go there.”
“Yes, exactly. I can’t explain it, either,” he said. There was a thread of relief in his voice. “Elizabeth and I weren’t married, of course, but we were pretty close. I’m having trouble with this notion that she just fell down the stairs.
Anyway, if you’re going to try to get some info on what happened, you might want to see the uh, scene, as it were.”
She tried to think if there was any reason not to go there.
Then she agreed.
“Okay,” he said. He gave her the address. “That’s in Reston. Do you live in northern Virginia?”
“Yes, sir. Great Falls.”
“Oh. Okay. I live in Mclean.” He gave I her directions, then told her he still had a key.
That was interesting, she thought. She wondered if the police knew that.
“I can find it,” she said. What time will you be there?”
“I’m supposed to be at Mrs. Klein’s house-she’s next door, on the left, as you face it-at seven this evening. Let me give you her phone number.” she copied it down. “Will Mrs. Klein be going into the house with you, Admiral?” she asked.
“She might, although I haven’t asked her. But I thought that would be a good idea. Or maybe You can, I don’t know.
But I’m just thinking I shouldn’t be in there by myself just now.”
“Yes, sir, that probably wouldn’t be a good idea.”
There was another moment of silence. “Right. Okay, I’ll see you there.
I’ll be in civvies, by the way.”
“Yes, sir. I’ll see you there.”, She hung up, wondering if she should tell von Renset about this. She looked out of her cubicle, but he wasn’t in sight. She asked the yeoman where Mr. von Rensel had gone.
“Anywhere he wants,” the yeoman said with a grin.
“Actually, into the checkin pipe, Commander. Building pass, parking pass, Opnav security briefing, then Crystal City for the other stuff.
Probably be back tomorrow-if he’s lucky.”
Okay, so much for that, she thought, wheeling her chair back into her cubicle. We’ll just have to go meet the admiral on our own.
Train von Rensel waited patiently in the line for parking passes down on the Pentagon concourse. After nearly twenty-five years in the federal and military bureaucracy, he was resigned to the all-day routine of checking into a new organization. As the line shuffled forward, he reviewed his first meeting with Admiral Carpenter. The old man had pulled no punches about his disappointment with Train’s predecessor.