She said she would remain in her office until he was able to return her call.
Train slouched down in a chair by the office door. Karen thought he looked like a big old bear trying to balance on a rock. A treacherous part ‘of her brain began to speculate on what a hug might be like from such a bear. He killed her thoughts with the observation that he wasn’t surprised that Sherman wanted to duck the cops.
“Oh, c’mon, Train. You don’t still think he had anything to do with killing those two people, do you?”
Train looked away for a moment. “I’m still bothered by the fact that all the current information on this mysterious Galantz comes from Sherman. I want some external corroboration.
“But how about the syringe? I mean, I saw that thing, and the look on his face when he saw it.”
We’ve been over this: He had an opportunity to put that thing in your car.”
She shook her head in exasperation. “But why? The syringe had blood in it that matched the old man’s blood type, as well as traces of a substance that could’ve killed him.
Why on earth-“
“Because he could be playing a game,” Train interrupted. “A dangerous game, but still a game. Those cops have to be wondering, too. I know,” he said, seeing the look on her face, “motive. That’s where I’m stuck.
I can’t figure the motive.”
The phone rang before Karen could reply.
“Navy JAG, Commander Lawrence speaking, sir.” She mouthed the name Sherman at Train.
“Tonight, huh?” Sherman was saying.
I’ll m afraid so, sir. Althouah I haven’t called him back.” There was a pause. “Okay,” he said. “I’ll be done here in about thirty minutes. At this hour, thirty minutes to get home.”
“Let me give you directions to my house,” she said, ignoring the sardonic expression spreading over Train’s face.
“It’s about twenty minutes beyond where you live, but a lot closer for him, coming from Fairfax.”
He agreed, wrote down directions, and hung up. She called Mcnair and made the necessary arrangements. She told him that Sherman had wanted to put it off a day, hoping she could find out why they wanted the meeting so urgently.
“Two people are dead, Commander-in a week’s time. i As I think I mentioned, some people here are starting to’t view this as a situation involving a serial killer. By the rules, we’re supposed to bring the FBI into it, sooner rather than later. We want to talk to Sherman again because he’s the common’thread. Plus…” He hesitated.
“Plus?” 11 I I m going to ask that you not tell him this, Commander. need to see his reaction when I ask the question. Deal?”
“Yes, of course, Detective. I can keep a secret.” Train was watching her when she said that, his eyebrows rising.
“Well, I contacted Admiral Schmidt’s lawyer today.
Asked him our standard questions about contacts, possible business or tax problems, etcetera. Tried not to highlight the fact that I was a homicide: guy, if you follow my drift.”
“Yes. Go on.”
“Lawyer said he was the executor. There was no other family. The old man left a bequest of a year’s salary to the housekeeper. The rest of his estate-worth something just north of a million bucks, a lot of that in the Mclean house and five acres bordering on that park-goes to guess who?”
“Oh my,” she whispered.
“Yeah, job my.’ Looking at things in an objective fashion, the good admiral has had his net worth bumped up about a million three in one week. So one of the things we have to do at this meeting is to inform him that we need to look hard at his finances-with his full cooperation, hopefully. And I guess this is the time to inform you that we might be migrating to different sides of the fence.”
“I see,” she said. “Formally?”
He hesitated. “No, not yet. We don’t have a consensus here. And it depends on a couple of things-what we find when we pull the strings on Citizen Sherman and what you guys come up with on this Galantz guy.”
She nodded to herself. “Let me ask you something. Put aside the circumstantial issues for a moment. Do you, personally, believe Admiral Sherman is a killer?”
Train whistled softly from his chair and then got up and started pacing around. This time, there was a longer silence on the phone. Karen found herself holding her breath.
“Actually, my gut feel is no. The lieutenant keeps writing the facts up on a case board and underlining the common thread, which is Sherman. Our lieutenant is hell on facts, which is probably why he’s the lieutenant.
I’ll say this: If Sherman is the guy, he is one cold and calculating bastard, and a damned good actor. Both Mrs. Klein and the old admiral’s housekeeper swear that he’s a prince of a guy.”
I t was Karen’s turn to be silent. Stalling for time to think, she asked another question. “Was there a DNA match on the blood in the syringe?”
“Much too soon. DNA matching takes time. But on gross markers, yes. The ME couldn’t find an injection point, but then again, that was a very fine-gauge needle on that syringe.”
“What about potassium?”
“Total bust. The chief toxicologist wouldn’t even try.
They said that there was no way to detect a toxic level of potassium in the tissues, especially after embalming. So, see you at seven-thirty.”
He was cutting off the questions. She reviewed the directions and he said he and his lieutenant would be there. “My lieutenant wants to meet the admiral. See you there, Commander.”
Karen hung up the phone and recapped the conversation for Train, who whistled again.
“I should be there,” he said when she was finished.
She looked at him for a moment. Given Sherman’s reluctance to share information, Train’s presence might be awkward for Admiral Sherman. On the other hand, Mcnair’s latest information had unsettled her. Once again, she was beginning to wonder about Admiral Sherman.
Train saw her working it out and grinifed at her. Then he skewed his face, hunched his back, and dangled one arm lower than the other. “Igor may have been fight, -distress.
Igor might be good troll to know if you’re going to hang around with bad guys, mistress. Maybe let the bad guy know mistress has Igor on call.”
“Oh, quit,” she protested, but without rancor. “I’ll admit I’m a little more worried than I was. But yes, you should be there.
He straightened up, his face becoming serious. “But not for the reason you’re thinking,” he said. “I should be out there because of that lockout banner on your computer screen this morning.”
“I don’t understand,” she said.
:, I promise to explain” was all he said as he reached for his coat.
Out on the GW Parkway, Karen checked her mirror to see if Train’s car was still behind her. She had been trying to figure out his cryptic comment about the security lockout on the Galantz investigation file.
But she had been too proud simply to come out and ask him. Maybe he was trying to show her that he was thinking ahead of her. Baffled, she refocused her mind on the problems posed by the news about Galen Schmidt’s bequest. She could see the cops’ point of view. Alibis aside, the only other explanation on the table depended entirely on Sherman’s version of something that happened more than twenty years ago, involving a man who had, according to government records, officially disappeared in the swamps of Vietnam. On the other hand, if Galantz did exist, and if he was bent on setting Sherman up to take a fall, he was doing a pretty good job of it.
Mcnair’s use of the term serial killer would do nothing to soothe the Navy flag community’s uneasiness about this whole situation. Maybe after this meeting it would be propitious to review the bidding with Admiral Carpenter. Remember your tasking, she thought. The big guys want to avoid surprises. On the other hand, if Sherman was innocent the fundamental unfairness of what was going on was starting to gall.