Darkside (47 page)

“Got it. I'll call you when we get there.”

Ev hung up, thought about driving over to Liz's office, then went to find the scotch instead.

 

Jim and Branner were getting into her Bronco when her cell phone rang. She looked at Jim, who gestured for her to hand it over. He clicked it open and answered. It was Liz DeWinter.

“Mr. Hall. Did I misdial? I was looking for Agent Branner.”

“Stand by one,” was all he said, and then moved closer to Branner so that she could talk and he could listen in.

“Yes, Ms. DeWinter,” Branner said.

“Julie Markham's on her way to my office. I understand you want to talk to her?”

“Yes, we do. But we're supposed to meet with her in Bancroft Hall. I was just going to call you.”

“Sure you were. Well, look, Agent Branner, why not make this easy for everyone—you come over here to my office.”

Jim nodded forcefully. “Okay,” she said. “That works. Mr. Hall and I will be right over.”

“Why Mr. Hall? What's he got to do with this?”

“Is Midshipman Markham still your client?” Branner asked.

“Yes, of course. She never stopped being my client. And now I hear the Academy may not let her graduate.”

Jim motioned for Branner to give him the phone. “Liz?” he said. “Jim Hall. Let's not do this on the phone. We need to talk to Markham, and time is of the essence. Is she there yet?”

“No, but she's on her way over right now. Her ex-boyfriend is with her.”

“Hays? Good. And may I ask a favor? Don't take any more phone calls, okay? And when Markham gets there, tell her we're coming in to talk about Dyle Booth.”

“About
what
?”

“He's a mid. We think he may have killed Brian Dell.”

“Whoa,” Liz said. “WTF?”

“Hold that thought, and, remember, don't take any more calls. We're on our way.”

 

Branner drove her Bronco, but Jim decided to take his truck. Both of them had turned off their cell phones to avoid inconvenient messages, but Jim had failed to turn off the police radio in his truck. The chief's voice came up on the net as they rounded State Circle and turned down toward Liz's office.

“Shit,” Jim murmured, picking up the mike.

“Hey, boss, the dant's office is looking for you. And Special Agent Branner, too, apparently.”

“What's the message, Chief?”

“ET call home?” Bustamente said.

“Got it, Chief, thanks. I take it the dant's back in the Yard?”

“His admin guy didn't say, but he did say the Man wants to see you, and now'd be really nice.”

“Roger that,” Jim said. “If anyone asks, you're still looking for me.”

“Whassup?” the chief asked.

“What you don't know right now can't hurt you, Chief.”

“Heard that. Standing by.”

Jim thought about what to do while he waited for Branner to park. When the commandant wanted to see someone, he meant it literally, as in standing tall in his office. He suddenly didn't feel right about having asked the chief to lie for him, so he fired up his cell phone and called the commandant's office. He told them he was stuck out on Route 50, but that he'd had a message to call in. He was put on hold. He pulled in behind Branner, who came over to the window.

“I'm on disciplinary hold with the dant's office,” Jim whispered after a minute had passed. Branner rolled her eyes and used her cell phone to check her voice mail.

“Mr. Hall,” came the commandant's voice.

“Yes, sir,” Jim replied, straightening in his seat out of habit. Branner closed her phone and leaned in to listen.

“Where is Special Agent Branner?”

“Don't know, sir,” Jim said. “I've been trying to raise her myself.”

“We have some new guidance in that matter you've been investigating. I won't go into details over an open line, other than to say we have a SecNav determination in the matter. Branner's people have also been informed.”

“Yes, sir, copy that. Do you have new instructions for me, sir?”

“Exactly, Mr. Hall. Back out, write up a report, print a single copy, and give that to me and the source file to Pren. Tonight, if you please.”

“I can do that, sir,” Jim said. “I've been keeping a running file. Are there any accountability issues remaining?”

The dant hesitated. “Just one, Mr. Hall. We're going to address that via the Brigade Honor Committee. I understand
you already approached the board regarding the individual in question.”

“Yes, sir, but that was not productive.”

“So Captain Rogers informs me. I think I can remedy that. Get me that report as soon as possible, Mr. Hall.”

“Aye aye, sir,” Jim said. “And that other matter? The tunnel matter?”

“We don't need any more problems on our plate just now, Mr. Hall. The SecNav made that abundantly clear. In our view, the tunnel matter should go away in two weeks, right? Thank you.”

The circuit went down. A city cop appeared alongside in a cruiser and waved them out of the reserved parking spaces. Branner flashed her NCIS credentials at him and he nodded and drove off.

“Well, there it is,” he said. “We've been officially backed out.”

“You have,” she said. “I haven't.”

“No messages?”

“Lots of messages,” she said. “But they all say the same thing: Call Harry Chang. No instructions, and nothing from the Academy directly.”

“Then we can still go meet with Markham.”

“I can. The question is, can you?”

He chewed on his lower lip. The Executive Department, at Branner's request, had summoned Markham to a meeting in Bancroft Hall. Except she wasn't going to show. Jim wondered if that fact would percolate up to the dant's office at this hour. Was the left hand talking to the right hand? If he went with Branner, he'd be disobeying a direct order, which might cost him his job. On the other hand, the Academy appeared to be ready to come down on Markham. If Markham knew the truth about the Dell incident, this was no time to sweat the small stuff. Branner was watching him carefully.

“I'll go. I think they're going to railroad Markham. Not fair.”

“Unless she was indeed responsible,” Branner said. “Then you're falling on your sword for nothing.”

“Shit happens,” he said.

She smiled at him and nodded. “Good call,” she said. “Maybe there's hope for you after all.”

“Up yours, Branner.”

“In your dreams, cowboy.”

 

Hey. A little bird just whispered in my ear. Actually, it was a little E-mail intercept out of the deputy dant's office. Someone's been running her mouth. And now my name's come up? The ghost of little Brian Dell getting ready to cause
me
trouble? I don't think so. I think I have the cure for that shit. Everyone forgetting the video? On which you are absolutely the star? Which I can have out on the World Wide Web in a New York flash?

You think that I'll just stand around if they corner me? Think I'll just break down and cry, ask for forgiveness, tell them I'm a victim, too? Bullshit. I'll take some di-rect and immediate effective action. I'll take prisoners and I'll execute their asses. I'll take the high ground and tell the whole fucking Brigade what I think of them. And then, if I have to, I'll show them all what a real man's made of when his back's to the wall. And I'll do it in front of God and everybody. And you, too.

You said you wanted to go for a ride. Nobody forced you. You said you needed a rush, some thrills to make up for your oh-so-boring, so perfectly straight life. You came on to me, remember? We had a deal. So tell me you're not going to try to stick it to me, not this late in our dark little game. Because, as we both know, I can stick it to you a whole lot worse than you can stick it to me.

Julie, baby: You bored?

 

They found Liz, Julie Markham, and Tommy Hays waiting for them in Liz's darkly paneled conference room. They all
sat down, and then Liz began to establish some ground rules. Branner waved her off. “We have more serious issues to talk about right now. Midshipman Markham, I'm still Special Agent Branner, and I have some questions for you about Midshipman Dyle Booth.”

At the mention of Booth's name, Julie Markham's face paled visibly. She looked sideways at Hays for a moment, as if to ask, How could you? Then Liz jumped in. “First, I need to know the background on all this,” she said. “They just got here, and I don't know what you're talking about.”

“Mr. Hays,” Jim said. “Tell Ms. DeWinter and Agent Branner what you told me about Dyle Booth.”

“No, don't,” Julie told Hays. “Don't say anything at all. We don't have to say anything, do we, Liz?”

Liz frowned. “No, you don't, but—”

Before she could explain, Jim interrupted. “I just got off the phone with the dant. He ordered me to back out of the Dell investigation. He said that there had been a SecNav determination as to what happened to Dell.”

“Then that's it, isn't it?” Julie said, trying for a confident look. “It's officially over?”

“For Dell, it was over when he hit the concrete,” Branner said, producing a painful silence at the table. “But not for you, apparently.”

Jim leaned forward. “I asked if there were any outstanding accountability issues. The dant said there was one, and it involved you, Midshipman Markham.”

“Goddamn it,
why
?”

“You want the technical answer or the real answer?”

Julie looked again at Tommy Hays, who just shook his head in bewilderment.

“Let's hear the real answer,” Liz said.

“The real answer is that a midshipman died in Bancroft Hall. Someone must be held accountable for that. The official ruling will probably be a DBM—accident. Plebe went up on the roof and fell off. Internally, they know there's more to it. Within the Academy, they're probably going to use a fig leaf, say that the system just overwhelmed a plebe.
But we know that's not the whole story, is it, Midshipman Markham?”

Julie just stared at him.

Branner leaned forward. “You told us you didn't know Dell other than as a summer plebe. But isn't it true you were secretly mentoring Brian Dell?”

Julie set her jaw and didn't answer. Hays closed his eyes, as if he was expecting to be slapped. Liz asked Julie if this was true.

“It might be,” Julie said very slowly.

“
Might
be? You told
me
you didn't really know Midshipman Dell,” Liz said. “Other than as a plebe among plebes.”

Julie stared down at the table.

“Well, here it is, Julie,” Jim said. “The dant is going to fire up the Brigade Honor Committee. Somehow, some way, they're going to pin something on you relating to what happened to Dell. If they don't know about your helping Dell, they will once a BIO starts asking questions, right? Especially if he talks to Mr. Hays here. My guess is that you won't be found directly responsible for whatever it is they're going to ‘conclude' about Dell's death, but you're going to get tagged with something.”

“That's not
fair
!”

“It's not fair, but it's preferable to having the system get tagged. There's always accountability, right? It's the cornerstone of their whole program. So if it can't be them, it's going to be you.”

“Unless…” Branner began. Julie looked at her.

“For Christ's sake, Julie,” Tommy Hays said. “Tell them. They think Booth may have done it.
Tell
them.”

Julie got out of her chair and went to the door. It was obvious she just wanted to bolt from the room. Jim saw Branner pushing her chair back surreptitiously, but nobody else moved. Then Julie turned around to face all of them.

“I've been on the Academy swim team since plebe year,” she said. “I'm a freestyler. So is Dyle. But I'm not in his league. Nobody is.”

“He's a classmate?” Liz asked.

“That's right. Dyle Jones Booth. We don't compete, of course—he's on the men's team. But Dyle is…different. As a competitor, as a team member. He's big. He was big when he got here, and he's bulked up over the past four years. He's going Marine option. Always was. He plays the part. Tons of gung ho bullshit, but you get the sense he does it just to fool the officers.”

“Are they fooled?” Jim asked.

“Yes, I think they are. I mean, the Marine officers eat that stuff right up. Dyle's loud and he's big and he's way enthusiastic about everything military—marching, drill, shooting, hand to gland, spit and polish, giving commands. All that ‘Hoo-ah' noise. He's effective because you wouldn't
dream
of not doing what he says.”

“Because there's always an implied threat?”

“Not implied, Mr. Hall,” she said. “It's right out there. It's in his eyes. In his body language. And you get the impression he'd almost prefer it if you crossed him. Like he lives for that. ‘Go ahead, punk, make my day,' that kinda deal.”

“What's your connection, other than through the swim team?” Branner asked.

“Well, he's in my batt.”

“He a striper?” Jim asked.

“No, sir, he's not a striper. There's something about him that I think bothered the Navy officers. He's too much. Too loud. Over-the-top. Plus, behind their backs? He scoffs at the whole striper scene. Thinks it's childish, boys ordering boys around. When he realized he'd never be one, he made like it wasn't important anyway. Goes around counting the days until he gets to go to Quantico and starts what he calls his ‘real life.'”

“You think the officers are afraid of this guy?” Jim asked.

“No, sir, not exactly, but they know he's different. On the other hand, he's been a big-time medal winner for Navy in swimming, he's beyond physically fit, and he's a poster boy
for the uniform. I think they're mostly anxious to graduate him and then let the Marines deal with him.”