Silent Witness (15 page)

Bassett seemed at odds with the killer image, though. He had the face of an innocent, yet his eyes were old and intense. He'd flown in the Iraq war and had shot down one enemy aircraft before being assigned to Giddings a year ago, Ellen knew. She'd been up until one in the morning preparing her questions, based upon information they'd collected.

Cochrane gestured at last. “He's all yours, Agent Tanner.”

“Thank you, Lieutenant.” She kept her voice low and firm. Bassett was staring at her, trying to psyche her out.
Fat chance, Dude. You picked on the wrong woman this time.
This was why Cochrane was treating her more formally. Bassett was the kind of person who would use any weakness to his advantage—at least, that's what her intuition told her. Ellen lifted her chin and stared back at him, unblinking.

“We'd like you to tell us what you did, where you were and what activities you took part in at the Ares Conference in May, Lieutenant Bassett.”

“Sure,” he said, giving her a flirty smile, “no problemo.”

As he launched into his account, Ellen kept her original notes on hand, making small checks where his testimony contradicted what they had compiled from their various sources. She glanced over and saw that Cochrane realized something was amiss, also.

“Your story is very different from info we have here,” she said, pointing to the files next to her laptop.

With an easy shrug of his broad shoulders, Bassett smiled again and said, “You know how it is, Ellen. With time, you forget some things.”

“It's Agent Tanner to you, Lieutenant.”

“Sure, whatever you want.” Bassett's mouth thinned.

Ellen almost heard the nonverbal
honey.
Anger nipped at her and she allowed him to see it in her eyes. Unlike Michelson, Bassett was cool like that glacier handle of his, obviously at ease in tense situations. She went over several points and he answered them in a drone. Ellen decided to jolt him out of his complacency.

“Did Lieutenant Michelson discuss his interview with you?”

Bassett's brown eyes hardened. “Why, no, ma'am.”

“You're under oath, Lieutenant,” Ellen said.

His lips pulled away, exposing his teeth. “Are you calling me a liar, Agent Tanner?”

Ellen's stomach clenched as the aviator leaned forward, his attention fixed on her. “Lieutenant Michelson signed papers swearing he wouldn't discuss this investigation with anyone. I find it unusual you would mention the lieutenant's headache.”

“Some details stand out in my memory. Others don't. This particular one did. He's not prone to headaches, usually.”

Though she didn't like his arrogance or confidence, Ellen continued, “We have a witness who places you just outside the Leopard Radar suite that Friday evening.”

Bassett sat back, propping his fingertips together. “If you're referring to the alleged activities that may have taken place in the third-floor corridor, my answer is no. Like many others, I passed through that area from time to time during the conference. It was always crowded and sometimes I bumped into people.”

“Were you in the Leopard Radar Corporation suite at any time?”

“Sure, everyone moseyed through there at some point in the conference.” Bassett gave her a very smug
look. “It's likely your witness had been drinking and her powers of observation were impaired.”

“Very well. Lieutenant, I want to ask you about Susan Kane, an instructor in your squadron here at Top Gun. Did you see her at the conference?”

“Sure. She was drinking like everyone else. I also saw her later, after I returned from the movie.” He raised his finger in emphasis, “I walked through the patio to see if there was anyone around I knew. When I didn't find anyone, I went straight to my room like a good little boy.”

“Who was with her?”

“I saw a couple of guys assist her off the patio—strangers to me. I assume they took her to her room. Or at least they were heading toward the elevators. That's all I remember.”

Ellen looked down at her notes. She decided to rattle him, if possible. “It says here that you're married?”

“Yes, a second marriage with children.” Wiping his mouth, he glared at her.

“Tell me about your kids, Lieutenant.”

Bassett's eyes narrowed speculatively, and he shifted in his seat. “I have two sons.”

“Do you hope they'll follow in your footsteps? Carrying on in Navy tradition?”

He shrugged lazily and tried to look relaxed. “One might, but the other one won't.”

“Why is that?”

“He's…” Bassett gave her a pained look, then
looked up at the ceiling when he muttered, “Jake has a severe learning disability.”

“I see.” Ellen saw the pilot express real emotion for the first time. Anguish flared momentarily in his eyes and the macho aviator facade dropped away. Bassett didn't seem to want to discuss it, but she persisted.

“Is Jake the oldest?”

“Yes.”

“Is he in school?”

“Sort of.” Bassett squirmed.

“What does that mean, Lieutenant?” Ellen noticed the anger and pain in his eyes.

“It means that on my Navy paycheck, I can't afford the special schooling Jake needs. I'm hoping to get my early lieutenant commander leaves, which will put me into a pay bracket where I can afford better schooling for him.”

Ellen gave him a sympathetic look. “These financial constraints must be awfully hard on you and your wife.”

Bassett looked away and in a barely audible voice said, “Things are a little tight right now.”

Cochrane intervened. “When asked about being seen with Lieutenant Hawkins in front of the Leopard Radar Corporation suite, you stated that—” he searched his papers to find the exact quote “—‘it's likely your witness had been drinking and her powers of observation were impaired.'”

“So?” Bassett sneered.

“I don't recall Agent Tanner saying the witness was female,” Cochrane said in a soft tone.

Bassett flinched and went a little pale. “Uh…”

Cochrane continued more strongly, “Our witness, a male naval aviator, places you and Lieutenant Hawkins standing at the doorway to the Leopard Radar Corporation suite at 1900 on May 15th.”

Bassett shifted in the chair, his knuckles white as he gripped the arms. “The witness is mistaken, whether it be male or female,” he croaked.

Cochrane gave the pilot a big grin, as if to say, “I got you, you son of a bitch.”

From then on, Gordie the Glacier repeated, “I don't recall,” like a litany to any question Ellen asked him. She decided to conclude the interview. They'd gotten what they'd wanted.

E
LLEN LOOKED AT HER WATCH
. Fourteen hundred hours. They'd just finished their third interview of the day with Giddings pilots, and Cochrane had gone to get them coffee. Their luck had changed after Bassett's interview. Lieutenant Commander Douglas, an instructor at Top Gun, brought in photos his wife had taken at the Ares Conference. He'd been a strong supporter of Susan Kane and female pilots in general. The man was devastated by her untimely death and had wanted to help find out why she had died. He'd gladly handed them his wife's pictures, and they had helped the investigation immensely.

Ellen scanned in the photos and sent them directly to the Pentagon computer for use in their ever-widening search for military personnel who had attended Ares. She hoped the new photos would produce matches.

She spread her notes out to the right of her laptop. After typing in Susan Kane's name, she waited to see if it would pop up back at the main terminal. Nothing happened. She typed “woman, tall, short brown hair,
blue eyes.” Nothing. Persisting, she typed in “woman in uniform.” The monitor lit up with several titles of interview reports. She highlighted the photos one at a time and sent them to the printer.

Waiting impatiently, she saw Jim amble in with their coffee.

“Get something going?” he asked, handing her a cup.

“I'm working at it. Thanks.” Their fingertips brushed. Ellen absorbed the contact like a starving thief. But now wasn't the time to wonder about their future. On Sunday evening, a captain who worked directly with the CNO at the Pentagon had called Jim at home. He'd strongly advised that Lieutenant Kane's reason for suicide be found as quickly as possible. More pressure from above, and Ellen knew what that meant: working long hours, 24/7.

Right now, she enjoyed Jim's company and loved working with him. He was an excellent teacher: patient and gently teasing her when she made mistakes. It was easy to learn from him. Pointing to the printer, she said, “Look at this!” There were three photos, with dates and names of the source written below.

Grinning, Cochrane studied the images. “Bingo. There's Susan and she's in uniform.”

Ellen studied one photo intently. “She's at a portable bar, just like Bassett said.”

“Yes, and the date and time fit, too. I'm surprised he gave up that kind of information. Michelson didn't.”

“Michelson was supposedly not there, remember?”

The other photos were of different female officers and didn't lead to any information regarding the Kane investigation. Ellen studied the monitor again. She looked at the second photo on the screen. A Navy aviator was identified as Morgan, A., Lieutenant,
USS Abraham Lincoln.
The printer cranked up again after several minutes, and Morgan's name appeared. Ellen stood there, reading the Super Hornet pilot's report to a Pentagon advisor.

“I think I made a connection, Jim!” She excitedly turned to Cochrane, who lifted his head.

“Well, what did the computer whiz find now?”

Ellen punched the paper and smiled triumphantly. “According to this interview, Lieutenant Al Morgan from the
USS Abraham Lincoln
stated that he saw, and I quote, ‘A very drunk, tall, pretty woman in a Navy uniform at the elevators on the third floor, just off the patio. She was stinking drunk and the man who was with her was in civilian clothes, holding her up so she wouldn't fall. She was semiconscious, leaning heavily on that man.' Maybe this is Susan.” Reading rapidly, Ellen added, “Morgan got off on the ninth floor, but he saw the man punch the button for fifteen.”

Cochrane raised his brows. “Kane had a room on the tenth floor, though.”

“Where did Bassett, Hodges and Michelson have their rooms?”

“We know Michelson was on the fifteenth floor.
Let's see where Bassett and Hodges were….” Cochrane went to the computer terminal and found the information. He grinned a little. “Sooooey! They all had rooms on the fifteenth floor.”

“‘Sooey'?”

He laughed. “That's a hog call, Ellen. We use it to call them in at night. It's kinda like ‘wow' to you people who live outside the Ozarks.”

Ellen smiled. “You never cease to amaze me with your dazzling array of language skills, Lieutenant Cochrane.”

He bowed slightly. “Thank you, ma'am. I'll take that as a compliment.”

“You would.” She became serious. “I wonder if it was Susan that Morgan saw?”

“No way of telling. We'll have to contact him on his ship by Iridium phone hookup and ask him. We'll supply him with an e-mail picture of Susan, so he can verify if it was her or not.”

“I want to make that call right now.”

“Okay.” Jim looked at his watch. “It will be 1000 tomorrow in Japan, if I remember my time zone changes correctly.”

Ellen was barely able to contain her excitement, and he eased back in his chair, stretched his arms over his head and grinned. “You look like a bloodhound on a scent.”

Laughing softly, Ellen nodded. “I'm really excited. I mean, we're finally getting some essential info on
Susan.” She waited impatiently while the phone made the hookup.

“Lieutenant Morgan speaking.”

Her heart accelerated momentarily, and she quickly introduced herself. “We've got your report and I wanted to ask you some additional questions.”

“Like what?”

“Could you identify either the man or the woman in the elevator you were on?”

“No.”

“Please, this is important.”

“So is my career, Agent Tanner.”

“I understand, Lieutenant Morgan. Do you think you could identify the man?” “I didn't know who he was, if that's what you're asking.”

“Do you recall anything about him?”

“No, not really. I was a little tipsy myself, and to be honest, I didn't pay much attention to him or the woman officer.”

“What time did you see them in the elevator?”

“Around 2300 on May 15th.”

“What was he wearing?”

“I remember a bright-colored Hawaiian shirt. I think he was wearing tan chinos and maybe some white tennis shoes, but I can't be sure. I do remember the shirt, though.”

“What colors?”

“Uhh, I think it had a white background with bright red flowers or some other print on it.”

“What do you remember about the woman?”

“She wore a set of gold aviator wings on her uniform.”

“She had a name tag over her left breast pocket. Do you recall seeing that?”

“No, not really. She was almost unconscious, and the guy was holding her up.”

“Color of hair?”

“I don't remember.”

“And you remember the male pressing the fifteenth-floor button?”

“Yes, I do, because I was standing right next to the panel and he lunged by me to hit it just as the doors slid shut.”

“Did he say anything?”

“Just that his girlfriend was drunker than hell, I think.”

Ellen sighed and held the phone a little tighter. “Did the woman speak?”

“No, she just moaned from time to time. Actually, she was leaning heavily against the guy, her head over his shoulder, and he was holding her around the waist so she wouldn't fall.”

“Do you recall smelling alcohol on them?”

Morgan laughed a little nervously. “Listen, I was drunk, and I'm sure I smelled of beer, too.”

“So, you smelled beer on them?”

“I'm not sure. The odor of beer was in the elevator after the door shut. It could have been any one of us or all of us. I just don't know.”

“You've been a big help, Lieutenant Morgan. I'm going to e-mail you some photos for identification purposes. You should get them shortly. If you do recognize anyone in them, e-mail me back right away?”

“Okay, but I'm not sure I'll know any of them.”

“Just do your best. Thanks for your time, and I'll send you an e-mail transcript of this phone call for your records. Goodbye.”

Ellen hung up and looked over at Jim. “I'm beginning to like this work.”

“Yeah.” He chuckled and stood up, ambling around the desk to study the notes she'd put on her laptop. “I can tell. But don't think this high tech stuff is normal investigating. Shoe leather is the common methodology.”

“I understand. Still, I feel I'm doing a credible job.”

“The only measure of this job is credible proof. But, hey, don't let my pessimistic nature get you down. You're doing swell.”

“Good grief! Praise!”

Grinning, he saw her place her hand dramatically over her heart.

“Come on, Ellen.”

“Seriously, you always tease me and let me know what I didn't do right.”

“You're turning into a 4.0 investigator. Okay? I liked the way you questioned Morgan. You scored some good points. That's the sign of a detective in the making,” he said.

She sat there, a warmth stealing through her. Jim stood next to her and she savored his closeness. Looking back down at her laptop, Ellen forced herself to focus on the job. “I like searching through the computer. It's a faster way to solve this puzzle.”

Cochrane placed his hand on her shoulder. “If you're trying to impress me, Ellen, you're succeeding.” God knew, he had been wanting to touch her more and more lately. He'd resisted. Barely. But today, Jim was helplessly ensnared by her natural ebullience. He squeezed her shoulder gently.

“Enough to take me to dinner tonight?” Oh no, did she say that out loud? Ellen sat there, stunned at herself. This just wasn't like her. But then, nothing about this quasi relationship was normal. Her eyes widened and she cast an anxious look up at Jim. He seemed a bit shocked, too.

“Sure. Why not?” His heart sped up. She'd invited
him
on a date! The idea permeated through him like hot butter melting in a skillet.

“Why did you hesitate?” she asked.

“You caught me off guard. That's all.” Jim was beginning to enjoy her spontaneity. It was helping to free him from his frigid fortress.

“I surprised myself, believe me.” Ellen managed a wry smile. Her pulse picked up as she considered her bravado.

Cochrane set his pen aside and trained his attention on her. “I thought you'd gotten enough of my company on this high-pressured case.”

Ellen nodded. “You were an unknown quantity to me at the start of this investigation, but I'm not tired of you or it. I would love some time just to sit and talk with you.”

“I like the idea,” Jim agreed. He'd been aching to carve out personal time with her.

Ellen grinned. “Now that that's settled, I'd sure like pizza tonight.” She saw Jim's gray eyes go wide with pleasure, and her heart swelled. Just the idea of being alone with him, out of the office, sent her into a tizzy of joy, laced with just a bit of anxiety. What did he think of her invitation? Apparently, he liked it.

Cochrane brightened. “Good, I know just the place! There's a guy who has this huge old pipe organ and plays it while old silent movies run above him on a screen. It's a real family restaurant—lots of kids and parents. I take Merry there as often as I can. She loves the place.”

“I like kids.”

“I kind of thought you might. Okay, pizza it is.” Jim turned and went back to work, then looked up at her again. “What kind of pizza do you like?”

“Vegetarian style.”

He groaned.

“What does that moan mean, Mr. Cochrane?”

Laughing, he said, “It means we get two pizzas. One all-man pizza with everything but the kitchen sink, and a second wimpy pizza for my vegetarian pardner.”

 

A
S FAR AS
E
LLEN WAS
concerned, Monty's Pizza Palace was like a miniature Disneyland. At 6:00 p.m., the large, bustling establishment was packed with families. The noise level was high, but when Monty, a short and plump man in his fifties, came out to play the immense pipe organ, patrons magically quieted down.

Ellen thought Jim looked so different tonight, besides the change into more casual clothing. He wasn't like the intense legal officer she'd come to know. Even his hair, slightly mussed, gave him a younger air, of someone carrying fewer responsibilities. He sat across from her, a huge piece of pizza cradled in his hands, eating with unabashed relish. The pipe organ began to play loudly and dramatically as a silent movie flickered across the huge screen above. Ellen glanced at the old western, munching contentedly on her vegetarian pizza. They agreed to talk once the movie and music ended.

After dinner, as they strolled toward the parking lot, Jim placed his hand against his belly. “I feel like an old boar who discovered the local garbage dump and ate too much.”