Sweepers (49 page)

“His own son? Well, that does it. This isn’t going to be any problem at 0, Thomas.”

“I hope not. I’ll see you just before noon, thew.”

At eleven o’clock, Hiroshi brought Karen’s Mercedes and then the admiral’s sedan around to the front of the house.

Train thought the admiral looked impressive as always in his blues, the single broad gold stripe glowing in the morning light. Kyoko had done his shirt, and a shower had done the rest. Except for circles under his eyes, he looked almost ready for a fight. When Karen came out on the porch, he felt his heart do a little flop. She, too, had prospered from an hour’s rest, and a treacherous voice in his head pointed out what a good-looking couple they made, both handsome people in uniform. And you suggested they go into the Pentagon together to face the lions. Good move, bud. Really great thinking. But then she winked at him and he felt a whole ‘ lot better.

Karen went to get in her car. The admiral came over to Train. “Mr. von Rensel,” he said, offering his hand.

“Thanks foreverything. You have a lovely home out here.

I assume that after this morning, the Navy’s official role in this investigation will be finito.”

“Admiral, that may be true,” Train said, taking the admiral’s hand and shaking it. “But I’m not ready just to let this thing go, even if the Navy is. This guy has tried to kill me once and Karen twice. If the cops don’t get him, and soon, I’m going to take a shot.

Their eyes met. Train got the impression that the admiral knew precisely what he was talking about. “If this goes the way I think it will, call me,” Sherman said. “I’d like to go along when you take that shot.”

Train went over to the Mercedes and Karen lowered the window.

“Did I ever tell you I’m a sucker for sailors in short skirts?” he said.

“This is not a short skirt,” she retorted, although sitting in the front seat of a car in a straight skirt was making a liar out of her.

Train grew serious. “Look, I’m not thrilled with your venturing out alone. We promised Mcnair-and this guy’s already tried for you twice.”

“You promised Mcnair,” she said. “And besides, this was your idea, was it not?” Then she put her hand on

“You’re right about this. Somebody has to be there with him. And one of us should be here in case Mcnair tries to contact us.”

“I hope to hell someone besides us is working this problem. Any sign of trouble out there on the road, you get onto nine-one-one. And remember, your car phone is not secure.”

“Everybody knows that. And I promise to yell if something starts. And you promised to stay here, right?”

The admiral’s car started forward around the circular drive, heading for the gate. Train stepped back from the car.

“You better roll. You’ve got Saturday shopping traffic to get through up at Springfield.”

“Train, you promised!”

“I know. I won’t do anything stupid.”

She gave him a warning look and then started the car and followed the admiral out.

Train watched them go and then walked thoughtfully back into the house.

He yawned. He had slept a little bit last night, but not restfully. Need to call Mcnair again. Tell him that Sherman and Karen are headed to the Pentagon. Then I’m going to go put my hands on that kid.

He went into his study to make some calls. The first was to his insurance company, and the second was to the Chevy dealer in Fredericksburg to order up a replacement Suburban. Then he called Mcnair’s number again. It being Saturday, his call to the Homicide Section was diverted to the police department’s general operator, who promised to relay the

“Call me” message. He hung up. Saturday. Then he thought of something: that number Mcnair had given him.

He had to go find his suit coat to retrieve the card, but there it was, a beeper number. He called the system, prepared to leave the house number. Instead, he got the phone company’s hideous “you just screwed up” tone in his ear, followed by a taped message saying, “The number you have dialed is no longer in service. Please check the-“

He hung up. What the hell? He had assumed that the beeper system connected with a police operations unit. No longer in service? They must change it all the time for security purposes.

He leaned back in his chair and rubbed his eyes. So, where the hell was Mcnair? He put his head down on the desk for a few minutes. Not to go to sleep, of course; just to rest his eyes for a minute.

Karen was surprised to see how many cars were in’t he South Parking lot.

Lots of eager beavers here today, she thought.

Polishing that all-important career. What was it someone had once said?

The word career was also a verb? She parked beside the admiral’s Ford and got out. He was putting on his uniform cap and buttoning up his service dress-blue jacket. It was a lovely spring day, with clear, bright sunshine everywhere and a leafy breeze blowing in from the green slopes of Arlington Cemetery across Washington Boulevard.

“Too nice a day to go in there, isn’t it?” he said, glancing over at the drab concrete pile that was the Pentagon building.

I it’d be a -good day for a run,” she replied, locking her car.

“If I went for A run, I think I’d keep on going,” he said.

“Karen, I’ve been thinking. I’d like to keep the hospice situation out of this, if I can.”

“They’ll want to know why you went off like that, Admiral. And where.”

“Why, maybe. Where is something they have no need to know. They may just seize on the fact that I checked off the net for a couple of days.

Couple that with this Galantz business and I think they’ll ask me for my retirement papers.” He gave her an intense look. “If that’s how it comes out, that’s okay, as long as I can protect Beth.”

“I thought you were going to fight something like this, Admiral. You’ve given up an awful lot for those stars.”

“Haven’t I just,” he said bleakly. “But if the big boys want me out, practically speaking, there’s nothing I can do.”

“You could refire.”

“Yes, and then what? Orders to a tour in charge of the Antarctic research station? No thanks. I’m either a player in the surface Navy or I’m not. Let’s go, Commander.”

“You’re going to have to sign me in, I’m afraid,” she said. “My ID card burned up in the fire.”

Sherman did the paperwork at the South Parking guard station and then they walked quickly up to the Opnav area.

When they arrived on the fourth floor, the admiral stopped and looked up and down the deserted corridors.

“Not quite noon on a Saturday, and yet everybody’s gone,” he said. “I think somebody’s cleared the decks early in the OP-03 area. Don’t want any snuffies walking in on a, kangaroo court.” He gave her a wry look.

“Sure you still want to come along on this ride, Commander?”

She nodded firmly, although as they walked into Kensington’s office, she wondered if she should have checked in with Admiral Carpenter before doing this. But Admiral Carpenter was standing in Admiral Kensington’s front office, talking to Kensington’s deputy, Admiral Vannoyt, when they arrived. The normal front-office staff was also present, including the EA and the flag lieutenant. Carpenter stopped in mid-sentence and greeted them.

“Admiral. Commander,” he said, nodding at each of then. Vannoyt just looked disapprovingly at her but said nothing. Karen felt the social temperature in the room dropping. The office staff was suddenly concentrating very hard on their paperwork.

“Admiral Kensington’s on the phone with the Vice Chief right now,”

Carpenter said to her in an abrupt, almost unfriendly tone of voice.

“We’ll go in shortly. Are you here for some special reason, Commander Lawrence?”

Karen had to swallow before she found her voice. “I’m here because I know some aspects of this case with which Admiral Sherman may or may not be familiar. Have you heard from Detective Mcnair, sir?”

Carpenter stared at her as if she had said something grossly impertinent. “I don’t think your presence is going to be necessary at this meeting, Commander,” he said in clipped tones. “Admiral Vannoyt, what do you think?”

“I quite agree, Admiral. Feel free to wait here, Commander. Or better yet, outside in the passageway.”

Karen felt her face flushing. “In the passageway, Admiral?” No senior officer had ever talked to her this way.

“That’s what I said, Commander,” Vannoyt replied acidly. “Or in the parking lot. Or at home, if you’d like. This meeting was called at the flag level. There will be no need for staff legal officers.”

The venomous intonation Vannoyt put on the term legal o fficers evoked a raised eyebrow even on Carpenter’s face.

Sherman’s mouth was set in a tight line, but he remained silent. Karen, her heart racing and her face turning red, wasn’t sure what to do next, but she was saved momentarily by the intercom buzzer on the EA’s desk.

The EA, a polished-looking young captain, stood up and nodded once at Vannoyt. As Vannoyt and Carpenter began to move toward the inner office door, Karen grabbed Sherman’s arm.

“You need a lawyer for this,” she whispered urgently.

“You really, really do.”

Carpenter overheard that, and, sensing what might be coming, he stopped dead in his tracks. “Karen,” he began, but she turned her back on him.

Sherman looked into her angry eyes, understood, and then nodded once.

“You have to ask,” she said. “You have to request counsel, formally-from the JAG.”

“Karen, what the hell are you doing?” Carpenter said, visibly angry.

Vannoyt looked confused, and he was still trying to get the group moving again. Kensington was waiting. , Karen turned back around to face Carpenter. “As Admiral Vannoyt just pointed out while he was inviting me to cool my heels in the passageway, I’m a Navy lawyer. What I’m doing is my job, Admiral.”

Sherman stepped past her. “Admiral Carpenter, I hereby request Commander Lawrence be appointed as my counsel in these proceedings. I believe that’s my right if these proceedings are going to be adversarial.”

Carpenter was staring at Karen, and she realized that for the first time since she had been working for him, he didn’t know what to do’. He looked from her to Sherman and then back at her. He started to say something but then snapped his jaw shut.

“Gentlemen, the admiral is waiting,” Vannoyt said.

“Well, Admiral?” Sherman said.

Train sat up with a start at his desk and instantly regretted it. He had a sharp crick in his neck and his left arm was ep. He looked at his watch. It was 11:30.

asle Damn it. He looked across the room. The study doors had been closed.

Gutter was on watch in the corner of the room. That sneaky Hiroshi.

Coffee. He needed coffee. He got up and stretched, then sat back down again. He lifted the phone. The dial tone stuttered in his ear. One message on the voice mail-from a Detective Davison, Fairfax Homicide Section. “Detective Mcnair’is on leave. If someone else can help you, call back. “

Train put the phone down slowly. On leave? Now what the hell? He tried to ‘ rationalize that bit of news, and then it made sense. If there was political heat coming down on the Fairfax cops to back off this case, then having the lead detective slip off on leave might just solve everyone’s problem. Mcnair was probably working off-line, much like he and Karen were. And if Mcnair turned up in the wrong lace at the wrong time, he could always be severely chassed. Absolutely severely, County Commissioner, sir. It’ll never happen again, sir. A smoothy like Lieutenant Bettino would be quite capable of that.

He got up and went out to the kitchen, where Kyoko was poring laboriously over the household accounts through a pair of oversized reading glasses. Train realized with a pang that she was getting old.

“Any coffee left?” he asked.

She got up immediately and went to fetch the making for fresh coffee.

He carried the coffee back to the study and waited for the caffeine to do its work, still speculating about Mcnair. Then he had another thought: Suppose Mcnair was freelancing and had gone directly after Jack Sherman. He called the maintenance division at Quantico. No answer.

Saturday, stupid, he reminded himself as he hung up. So then Jack ought to be at that trailer up on snake hill or whatever it was called. I’d still like to drag that little prick back here and let the good admiral have his confrontation after all. Although, from what he had seen of that little viper, he didn’t give much for the admiral’s chances of achieving any sort of reconciliation. But over and above that, he felt a strengthening need to do something and not just sit here waiting for the bogeyman, or for Mcnair.

You promised Karen not to leave the house, an inner voice chided.

He thought about that for a minute. Actually, I never did.

Promise, that is. She just thought I did. He got up and beckoned the dog. “C’mon, Gutter. Let’s go rat hunting,” he said. He wondered how they were doing at the Pentagon.

“Very well,” Carpenter said, glaring at her. “Commander Lawrence is so appointed.” He appeared to be ready to say something else, then turned on his heel instead and followed Vannoyt into the inner office. Sherman gave Karen’s arm a little squeeze and they followed the two flag officers in.

Kensington was, as usual, in full uniform, but he was not at his desk.

He was standing with his back to them by one of the large windows overlooking the Pentagon helipad.

Vannoyt walked to the center of the room, cleared his throat, and announced that Admiral Sherman was here as requested.

“Directed,” Kensington said, continuing to face the windows. “Not requested. I don’t desire. I don’t solicit. I don’t request. I direct.”

“Yes, sir,” Vannoyt said, sounding to Karen like’a chastened ensign.

Kensington turned around and fixed Sherman with an eagle eye, and only then did he see Karen.

“Why is she here?” he demanded.

“I’m Admiral Sherman’s counsel, sir,” Karen said.

Kensington looked at Admiral Carpenter as if to ask why he had not been told that Sherman was coming with his lawyer. The JAG’s face was tense.

“I just found out about this, Admiral,” he said. “Admiral Sherman is within his rights to request counsel under these circumstances.”