“And tell them about the slippers?” he asked, looking sideways at her.
“Well, yes, sir, I think we should. Oh, you think they’ll attach significance to the fact that you came here tonight?”
“They just might.”
She shook her head. From her perspective, it was a perfectly normal thing for an ex-lover to do. “I disagree, sir,” she said. “But I do think they ought to hear about the slippers from you, or from you via me. If they think this is a murder, they’ll be back to see Mrs. Klein anyway.”
“And find out I was here, and maybe what we talked about.
“Yes, sir.”
He nodded. “You’re right. See what you can find out tomorrow, and please keep me informed. Now I’m going home. I’ve had a long day with a depressing ending. No offense intended, Commander.”
She tried to smile, but there was that bleak look in his face again.
Still waters, she thought. Be careful. You know nothing about this man.
But then he gave her a sudden, almost intuitive look that said, I know what you’re thinking, and then he did smile. It transformed his face, revealing an unexpected charm. “Thanks for coming tonight, Commander. I mean that. Call me when you have something.”
“Yes, sir. Good night.”
She smiled to herself as she started up her car. “Call me when you have something,” he’d said. It was almost amusing, how he just assumed she was working for him. Admirals did that, she had noticed: They automatically assumed that everyone in the room was acting in support of the Great . Man at the head of the table. She would call the police first thing in the morning and see if she could arrange another meeting with Mcnair. As she drove away, she glanced back at the Walsh house, and she realized Sherman had left all the lights on. The windows blazed out at the’ dark street as if to defy the lingering presence of death inside.
WEDNESDAY At 10: 15 on Wednesday morning, Karen Lawrence met with Detective Mcnair in Fairfax. He offered her coffee, but she declined; they sat down in his office. “So, Commander Lawrence. What can we do for you?”
“As I said when I called, Detective, I’m working for Admiral Carpenter.
He asked me to act as liaison between you and your efforts to solve the Walsh, um, situation and Navy headquarters.”
Mcnair kept a neutral expression on his face. “And the reason for establishing this liaison, Commander?”
Karen looked right at him. “To be perfectly frank, Detective, I think Admiral Carpenter wants to know right away if Admiral Sherman becomes a suspect in a murder case.”
“I see,” Mcnair said with the hint of a smile now. “Forgive me, when someone says they’re being Perfectly frank, I usually expect quite the opposite. So you are not working for Admiral Sherman, then?”
“No. I work for the JAG, Admiral Carpenter.” ‘5Tell me, that insignia on your sleeves means you’re a lawyer, right?”
“That’s right.”
“So, if this Admiral Sherman tells you something in confidence, is that privileged information? You know, lawyer client privilege and all that?”
No. I’m not representing Admiral Sherman in the lawyer-client sense. I’m not operating ‘of counsel.’ I’m operating as a staff officer on the Navy headquarters staff.” Okay,” Mcnair said. “When you called this morning went in to see Lieutenant Bettino. He’s the boss of the Homicide Section. I explained about this liaison proposition, and he said he could understand the politics of it. But he needed to know what you were. If you were Sherman’s lawyer, then we wouldn’t talk to you, of course, until we either charged him or gave it up for Lent. But, secondly, he didn’t feel we needed a whole lot of help with this case as things stand.
“Are you saying you would prefer there not be a parallel Navy investigation?”
“Yes I guess I am. I mean, of course the Navy can run any, kind of investigation it wants on any of its personnel.
You’ve got jurisdiction over naval personnel. But we’d prefer that any such investigation or related ‘activities not interfere with anything we might have going down in our jurisdiction.”
Karen understood the implied warning immediately and moved to put his concerns to rest. “First, we wouldn’t think of interfering with your investigation, Detective. And, second, since Ms. Walsh died in Fairfax County and not aboard a naval installation, our position is that you have exclusive jurisdiction. Besides, we’re not conducting an investigation.
I’m here to-“
“Yeah, I know,” he interrupted, sitting back in his chair.
“To establish liaison. So, let’s stop beating around the bushes here.
You know we’re not going to reveal every little detail of what we’re working here with this case. But what I hear you saying is that you’d like a little heads-up, we decide to make Sherman for the perpetrator.
Is that about it?”
Karen decided this was the time to show him that they wanted a little more than that. “Not exactly,” she said. “We might be more useful than that. Let me fill you in on something. She told him about going to Elizabeth’s town house the night before with Admiral Sherman. He nodded slowly keeping his face a blank while she talked, taking it all in but mask. He was indeed a pro, Karen thought, but she did get a reaction when she told him about the slippers. He reached for his notebook and wrotd something down. He appeared to think for a moment when she was finished. “Lemme ask you,” he said. “Did Sherman authorize you to tell us this?”
““Authorize’? Wrong word. I told him that the police ought to know about this, and he agreed.”
“Why did you go with Sherman last night?” he asked.
“He asked me to. Personally, I think he thought it would look better if he had someone with him. There were no indications that the house Was a crime scene when we got there. That’s not a problem, is it?”
“Nope,” he replied. “Did he appear to key on anything else when he went through the place?”
Karen shook her head. “No. He went through the entire house, but I don’t think he was looking for anything specific. He appeared to be, I don’t know, trying to exorcise the place in a way. He turned on all the lights went into all the rooms. I had the impression that he suspects something’s not right with the picture, but he also realizes that if he yells murder, he’s the only guy you’re looking at. I think the man feels he’s in a box.”
Mcnair thought about that for a moment. Then he looked back up at Karen.
“Do you think he’s clean?” he asked.
“Yes, I do,” Karen replied immediately. “Absent any physical evidence to the contrary. Based on what you said about the time of death-early evening, Friday-he was either in the Pentagon or at that restaurant. Did that check out, by the way?”
He looked at her for a moment, as if gauging whether or not he should answer the question she had just casually slipped in.
“The restaurant, yes,” he said grudgingly. “Like he said, he’s a regular. They remembered him being there. We haven’t talked to his office yet.”
Perhaps I can help with that.” She handed over one of her cards, with Sherman’s deputy’s name and number written on the back. He slipped the card into a pocket in-his notebook and then sat back, looking at her again, a speculative expression on his face. Karen waited. Mcnair appeared to be one of those cops who could be perfectly polite, even solicitous in his approach to people, but who still exuded the stoniness born of dealing with murder and murderers. Finally, he nodded.
“Okay,” he said. “Let me try this again, see if I get it right this time. You will stay close to this Sherman guy while we’re working this thing. You’ll pass along to us any information of interest that develops. In return, we will keep you informed as to how our investigation’s shaping up. You want advance notice if we decide to move against Sherman, but you also want us to get off him just as soon as we feel there’s no case to be made. How’s that?”