Sweepers (23 page)

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Authors: P. T. Deutermann

Tags: #Murder, #Adventure Stories, #Revenge, #Murder - Virginia - Reston, #United States - Intelligence Specialists

BOOK: Sweepers
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“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.

“Not bad for a commander, USN,” Train said, looking around the expansive living room.

“Not bad for an oil-industry lobbyist who’d been in the ‘bidness’ for twenty-six years,” Karen replied as she turned on more lights in the room. “Frank was pretty good at what he did.”

He wandered around the living room, looking at pictures of Frank with name-brand senators and with two Presidents.

“I don’t suppose you ever get over the loss of a spouse,” he said carefully.

She sighed. “At some point, I guess I was able to start getting on with life. But there are days, Train … there are definitely days.”

“And nights, I imagine,” he said. She nodded almost without thinking, and then she flushed. But there was no sexual innuendo in his eyes, only genuine sympathy. It was a side of him she hadn’t expected. They were interrupted by headlights in the drive. Karen looked out the porch windows and recognized the admiral’s car. Another car came up the drive behind him.

“Show time,” Train said.

Karen took a deep breath and went to the door to let Sherman and the two policemen in. Once inside, Mcnair introduced his boss.

“This is Lieutenant Bettino. Admiral Sherman, Commander Lawrence. And Mr. von Rensel of the Naval Investigative Service.”

Bettino offered his hand tentatively to Train, as if not sure he was going to get it back. Next to Train, Karen thought, Bettino looked like a college kid, with modish blond hair, bright blue eyes, and a very youthful face. She noticed that he did not say anything, but he also did not appear to be upset to have a fed present.

Sherman unbuttoned his uniform jacket and dropped into a chair. “I hope we can make this short, gentlemen,” he said. “I buried a dear friend today. Mr. von Rensel, I assume you are going to expedite the NIS effort to find Galantz?”

“Yes, sir,” Train said.

“If I may, Admiral,” Mcnair interjected. “I apologize for calling this meeting so soon after Admiral Schmidt’s funeral. But we’re concerned that there have been what appear to be two homicides in one week, homicides that have a common thread.”

“Two homicides? You’ve established that, Detective?

Galen was killed by something in that syringe?”

“It’s ambiguous at this time, Admiral,” Mcnair admitted. “Just like the Walsh case.”

“And the common thread,” Sherman said. “I suppose that’s still me?”

“Yes, sir, it is,” Bettino said, speaking for the first time.

His voice was smooth, almost silky. There was an abrupt hush in the room. Sherman’s face tightened perceptibly.

Mcnair moved to fill the suddenly awkward silence.

“Admiral Sherman, are you aware of the provisions of Admiral Schmidt’s estate?”

Sherman blinked. “Estate? You mean his will? No. We were personal and professional friends. Since 1977. He has a lawyer. His name is-“

“We talked to him today, Admiral,” Mcnair interrupted.

“He informs us that you are the sole beneficiary of Admiral Schmidt’s estate. With the exception of a stipend for his housekeeper, everything he had is now yours. That house and the acreage in Mclean, everything.”

Train was watching Sherman, who was starting to nod his head. He looked first at Mcnair, then at the lieutenant. “I I was going to say that I’m surprised. But I guess I’m not surprised after all. He was like a father to me. His own family is gone-his wife, his son. No, I didn’t know about this, but …” He ran out of words.

The lieutenant leaned forward. “Admiral, as of now you are not a suspect in this investigation. But as you are aware, we had a strange forensic situation in the Walsh house, in that we didn’t find a normal forensic background. In the admiral, s house, on the other hand, we have found evidence that you had been there.”

“A fact which I told you earlier,”

Sherman pointed out.

“On Wednesday night-last week. No, on Tuesday. On Wednesday, I went to Elizabeth’s memorial service. Galen was there.” He looked around the room as if to make sure that everyone had noted that point.

“Yes, sir,” Mcnair said, picking it up, almost as if they had rehearsed this. “Admiral Schmidt died sometime Thursday night. You were with Commander Lawrence until what time, around eleven?”

“Yes, something like that, We left the restaurant. And then found that syringe. Called you people.”

“You called us, Admiral?” the lieutenant asked.

“No. I meant someone called. I guess what I’m saying is that your patrol officer can vouch for the fact that I was with Commander Lawrence.” He looked around the room again, then realized how he was sounding. “Look, I was surprised by the . fact that Elizabeth had named me in an insurance policy. The situation with Galen … well, that’s a little less surprising. But I still think I’m being set up.”

“By this Galantz individual?” Mcnair asked.

“Yes. I’ve told you all this, Detective.”

Mcnair sat back in his chair. “That’s right, sir, you have.

But as of now, we have no way of corroborating the existence of the threatening letter or even the existence of Galantz. Or, for that matter, the incident that supposedly set him off after all these years.

All the Navy has produced is a closed-out personnel file.”

“Which proves that he certainly did exist,” Karen interrupted.

“Yes, Commander,” the lieutenant said. “But did exist isn’t the same as does exist. Admiral Sherman, we need two things: We need to find this guy, or at least to establish that he didn’t die out there in Vietnam.

And secon(fly, we would like to ask your cooperation in allowing us to examine your personal situation.”

““Personal situation,’ ” Sherman repeated. “As in-“

“As in personal finances. Whether or not you are overextended or have a big tax problem. Or if there’s a pattern in your bank accounts that would indicate that you’re a big time gambler, or you’re being blackmailed, or you have other personal habits requiring more money than you make in the Navy. Stuff like that.”

” ‘ Stuff like that,’ ” Sherman repeated slowly, his face darkening. “I see. All of which you could do with a court order. If I werea suspect, that is.”

“That’s right, Admiral,” the lieutenant said smoothly

“But since you’re not, we’re asking nicely. If you have’ nothing to hide, your cooperation and the absence of any of these indicators would bolster your credibility. I’m sure an officer of your seniority and experience will understand where we’re coming from with this, right, sir? You know, sort of an easy way/hard way situation?”

Sherman and the lieutenant stared at each other, but then the admiral composed his face and sat back in his chair.

“Anything you want, Lieutenant,” he said in an icy tone.

“I am none of those things you mentioned. I’m not a closet gambler, I don’t have any debts other than my mortgage, I’m not being blackmailed, and I don’t have a drug habitalthough you’ll have to take the Bureau of Medicine’s word for that, as we’re all drug-tested in the Navy-but, yes, I’ll open the books for you. I’ll instruct my accountant to provide full disclosure and my last five years of tax returns.

You can even have a look inside my house if you wish, as long as you agree not to tear it up. How’s that sound?’; “Like the full cooperation of someone who is eager to help us solve two homicides,” the lieutenant replied, ignoring Sherman’s tone of voice.

“Okay. But I’d like to ask a favor in return.”

“Which is?”

“That you inform the Navy JAG-that’s Commander Lawrence’s boss, Admiral Carpenter-that I’m not a suspect.

Mcnair and the lieutenant looked at each other for a moment, but then the lieutenant nodded. “We can do that, Admiral,” Bettino said. Mcnair nodded his agreement.

Sherman stood up. “Then I think we’re done here,” he announced. “If you don’t mind, I want to go home and have a drink and try to wash this mess out of my mind’for a couple of hours.”

The two policemen stood up, as well. “We’ll call you to make those arrangements, Admiral,” Mcnair said. “Tomorrow morning okay?”

“I’ll call you, if that’s all right, Defective. I’m trying to keep this problem from becoming public knowledge in my office.”

“We understand, sir,” Mcnair said quickly, extracting his card case and handing him a card. “I’ll be in the office by eight o’clock. Commander Lawrence, thanks for letting us meet here.”

Karen nodded and escorted the two policemen to the front door. Train was still perched in his spot by the fireplace when she came back. Sherman was buttoning his uniform jacket when Karen asked him to stay for a few minutes. She needed to find out something, but she had not wanted to bring it up with Lieutenant Bettino there, showing teeth.

“I can offer you a drink,” she said. “In fact, I think I’ll join you.”

Sherman looked over at Train for a moment, then nodded.

“Oka . Scotch, if you have it.” They went out to the kitchen. Karen brought the admiral his scotch, Train a beer, and fixed herself a glass of white wine.

“That was a definite change of tone,” she said.

Sherman nodded. He looked dejected. “And that’s with me not a suspect,” he said. “I’d hate to see how they treat their suspects.

“Well, for one thing, you’d be meeting them on their turf, not out here on yours,” Train said. It was only the second time he had spoken all evening, and Sherman looked over at him. The admiral was getting that cornered look again., “Tell me, Mr. von Rensel, what do you think about the possibility that Galantz survived the Rung Sat, a Chinese jail in Saigon, and was able to make it back to the States?”

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