Darkside (36 page)

“You have evidence of any of this?”

“No, sir. Nothing direct. But Special Agent Branner thinks it might be possible. I'm setting up a full court press to catch this guy, and then we'll see if there's a link to the Dell case.”

“I'm not sure I understand,” Robbins said, frowning. “What link?”

“Sir, given the time press right now, it would take too long to explain that. I'm inside the NCIS investigation, and they're comfortable with that, including that Harry Chang guy.”

“Hang on a minute,” Robbins said, and hit the intercom button. When his admin assistant responded, he said, “Pren, the subject is NCIS. Find out who Harry Chang is. He's at their HQ.”

“Aye, aye, sir,” the assistant answered. The commandant turned back to Jim.

“These are our problems, Mr. Hall,” he said. “A dead midshipman. The Board of Visitors. The press. Dell's parents. Commissioning week. The vice president. We need the Dell matter
resolved,
not expanded. Understood?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And if there's any doubt or ambiguity about this being a homicide, we need a determination that it
wasn't
a homicide, and we need that in public, and now would be really nice. I'm not pleased at all to hear about ruling in rather than ruling out. You sure this isn't some kind of ego trip with that Branner woman?”

Jim hesitated. Branner's ego was obviously formidable. And she'd wanted no outside help with the Dell case. And the same thing with the runner—if this runner was the one who got Bagger, his ass was hers. But then, Chang had
hinted that maybe Branner was being set up for a fall, for being too independent. “I guess that's possible, sir,” he began. “But—”

“No
buts,
Mr. Hall,” Robbins said. “I'm ready to weigh in at the highest levels in NCIS or above if that's what it takes. It is preposterous, in my opinion, to think that Dell was murdered. No one has turned up any mortal enemies, and my sources tell me he was surviving, if not exactly prospering, as a plebe. His parents avow that he was not overly depressed, and definitely not suicidal. I think he fell off the damn roof by accident, and unless there is direct and palpable evidence to the contrary, that's the ruling I'm looking for. And, like I said, today would be nice. Right now would be nice.”

“Sir?” came the assistant's voice on the intercom.

“Go.”

“Mr. Harry Chang is the number-three guy at NCIS. He's an SES, directs all their criminal investigations. Big kahuna.”

“Thank you,” Robbins said, and turned back to Jim. “Was this how he was introduced to you, Jim?”

“Not exactly, sir,” Jim said, flushing a little. “Branner said he was in charge of homicide investigations.” Mentally, he swore. Had Branner and Chang been screwing around with him at that little meeting?

“Isn't that interesting,” Robbins said. “Okay, I'm out of time. Keep going, but brief me daily, starting tomorrow. Go tell the deputy dant everything you know about your tunnel runner and the arrest of that civilian girl, but, for the moment at least, leave out any tie-in with the Dell case. Go do that now. He'll handle any further inquiries on that problem. That's all.”

Jim nodded. As he left the room, he overheard Robbins telling the assistant to get the deputy commandant on the line ASAP. He assumed there was going to be some political precalibration. He'd wait ten minutes before going next door to see him. In the meantime, he needed to talk to Branner.

It was three o'clock by the time Jim had finished briefing the deputy commandant on the tunnel runner situation. He had called the chief in so that he could bring him up to speed at the same time. About the time Jim was finishing up, the deputy's secretary had announced that a Detective Sorensen of the Annapolis Police Department was on the line and wanted to speak to him about a missing college girl. Rogers had waved Jim and the chief out of the office with a grim smile. Both were glad to escape with at least part of their afternoon still intact.

The chief gave Jim a ride back over to the admin building as the Yard filled with midshipmen returning from afternoon classes. He parked on the Maryland Avenue side of the building, pulling into the superintendent's official slot, but kept the engine running. “You keep this up, you're gonna have to go get a job as a detective,” he said. “I haven't seen you so involved with your job since you got here.”

Jim gave him a sideways look, and the chief put up his hands. “No offense, boss,” he said. “It's just that us old-timer Yard cops have always kinda wondered what, um—”

“Don't start, Chief,” Jim said testily. “Talk to me about backup and a plan of action for catching this little fuck.”

Bustamente nodded earnestly. “Right, boss. So, I think tonight would be too soon. I need to get a gander at those maps of yours and talk to my sergeants. We have to coordinate some overtime, figure out where we need to put people, and how to do it without attracting attention. From what you say, this guy's got pretty good antennae.”

Jim agreed. Tonight would be too soon to set up a coordinated operation. And it was only Tuesday. Wednesday night would be a much more probable window for the runner to make an excursion, because there was no town liberty on Wednesday night. “Come inside and I'll get you those maps. I also want a PWC boss to know about it, but not everybody in PWC. This guy's managed to get keys; he may have penetrated their internal control system, too.”

Jim met with Branner at 4:30 back in the NCIS office. Her phone rang just as they were getting coffee, so she had to go take care of that first. As he sat at the conference table, he tried to work out what, if anything, to say about the commandant's earlier comments. Probably nothing at all. Harry Chang might have been all about putting Jim at ease, while at the same time sending notice to the Academy that there was adult supervision being brought to bear on the local NCIS office. And yet, Branner hadn't seemed to have been overly deferential or even worried about Chang's senior rank. But then, we're talking about Branner, aren't we? he thought. A woman who would never win the Miss Deferential contest.

The second issue was the Dell case and Midshipman Julie Markham. He thought he had that worked out. He was about to go get some coffee, when a pale Agent Branner came back into the conference room. The expression on her face made him forget what he'd been thinking about.

“What?” he said.

She sank slowly into the chair at the head of the table. “Bagger Thompson. He died an hour ago. Stroked out. Blood clot got him.”

“Oh shit,” Jim said. “I'm truly sorry.”

Branner nodded numbly, staring down at the table. She seemed to shrink into herself, and for a moment, Jim wanted to get up and go to her. But he kept his seat, knowing fury would follow her shock at losing Thompson. And of course it had been Jim who'd taken Thompson out into town and introduced him to the black Irish beer.

“Don't blame yourself,” she said, as if reading his mind. “Bagger always drank too much. And when he did, all his inhibitions and most of his training went right out the window. He liked to fight, too. You'd never know it, behind that mild-mannered office face. But he came up from a tough neighborhood. Positively loved to rumble.”

“What happens now?”

“That was my divisional supervisor at the Navy Yard. They're convening a board to decide what to do next. They have my report from when it happened. My guess is that they'll get with the Annapolis cops and start a circus.”

“I met with my chief this afternoon. He's setting up for tomorrow night, when we're gonna try to nail this guy.”

“I
will
be there,” she said, still not looking at him.

“Goes without saying,” he replied immediately, although he hadn't planned that she would be along. But now…

“This business with the missing Goth girl. I got Harry Chang on his cell phone, gave him the background on that. He's wondering if she might have been ‘disappeared' by this guy, whoever the hell he is. Because
she
knows who he is.”

“Whew,” Jim said. “But how would he know that we arrested her? Or what she might have said to us?”

“She told him? And then said she hadn't given him up to the cops?”

“And he—what? Assumed she had? And then did something to her? I don't know, Branner—that's stretching it a little bit.”

“Not if he's the guy behind what happened to Brian Dell.”

Hoo boy, Jim thought. That theory was my contribution, wasn't it? “Maybe we're getting a little ahead of ourselves here,” he said. “If we've got some guy, mid or civilian, who's responsible for people dying, maybe it's Bureau time. This shit's getting out of hand.”

“Not necessarily,” she said. “I'd get laughed out of court with all these theories based on the evidence we
don't
have. Look, we, or you, know those tunnels better than anyone right now. Let's take a shot. If he gets by us again, then I'll declare defeat and get the bosses to initiate a monster mash.”

“The dant will need to know about Bagger.”

“Certainly. And I'm going to have to go up to D.C. this evening. Probably stay the night. I'll brief my boss on what we're gonna try tomorrow night. You'll have manpower?”

“I'll have to get the overtime authorized, but, yeah, I'll have every cop we own on it. Especially when the word gets out that this guy may have taken Bagger down.”

“Okay, then. Back to Dell.”

“Right. Dell. And Markham.”

“You said you had a plan,” she said. Her face was tightening with the anger he'd been expecting.

“I said I had an idea. Right now, we think Markham is holding back. She's been able to answer no to every question, which, if she's playing the honor game, means we haven't asked the right question.”

“How do we beat that?”

“We get them to convene the Brigade Honor Committee. Bring Markham before the committee. Tell her that we are pursuing the Dell investigation as something other than an accident or suicide. And then ask her, in front of them, if there's anyone who might want
her
harmed, who might also have harmed Dell. Remind her that failure to tell the truth now would be an expulsion-level honor offense.”

“Suppose the answer really is no? Or she just lies? Says that no, there isn't.”

“Then I'd ask her if she's ever been involved in the Goth scene, either in Annapolis or elsewhere.”

“Again, no, or she lies. What have we accomplished?”

“If she's telling the truth, we've done no harm. If she's lying, then we've put her in the honor box. Either way, what we do then is request that the committee investigate the possibility that there's something behind the first question. They have to do it if requested.”

“What's that get
us
?”

“It gets us behind the blue-and-gold wall. Midshipmen investigating midshipmen, with all the clout of the Honor Committee. Honor offenses are the third rail of conduct offenses. A mid might lie or quibble or evade when
we
come around asking questions, but no mid would lie to the committee.”

“A liar's a liar. Why wouldn't a mid lie to the committee?”

“Because an honor offense is an offense against the entire
Brigade. They'll bend the rules behind the blue-and-gold wall to protect one of their own from what they see as unfair treatment: The little shit. Ten demerits and two hours marching offenses. But they'll expose an honor offender and push him, or her, right through the wall and into the system's claws.”

“I'm not sure I understand this.”

“It's because the system stands for something. Something that's good and clean and honest and fair. That's what the honor system is all about. It's what these kids signed up for when they came here, because it totally distinguishes them from the ‘outside,' with all its equivocal don't ask/don't tell bullshit. The only way they justify the wall is by guaranteeing they'll draw the line at honor offenses. They'll play cops and robbers with the officer of the day, or the midshipman officer of the watch, about room inspections, unshined shoes, being two minutes late, after taps high jinks, illegal stereos, nonreg uniform gear, cars in the Yard, even booze in Bancroft Hall—all the game offenses. But not when it comes to honor offenses. And the system accepts that. The Executive Department plays the game with them, for four years. Both sides get pretty good at it. With that one proviso.”