Дэвид Балдаччи - No Man's Land

“Transport and logistics,” noted Puller.

“Right.”

“And while the Twelfth MPs are headquartered at Fort Lee, we also operate out of both JBLE and Fort Lee and constitute the CID office for JBLE,” said Hull. “I toggle back and forth. Prince George’s County isn’t that far from Tidewater.”

Puller nodded. He knew all this. “So what’s in the letter?”

He said this warily because his father had gotten a letter once before, from his sister in Florida. That had led Puller on a journey to the Sunshine State that had very nearly cost him his life.

“It was addressed to the CID Office at JBLE. The woman who wrote it is Lynda Demirjian?” Hull said this in an inquiring way, as though the name would mean something to Puller. “Do you remember her?”

“Yes. From Fort Monroe. When I was a kid.”

“She lived near you when your father was stationed there before it was closed and its operations transferred over to Fort Eustis. She was a friend of the family. More particularly, she was friends with your mother .”

Puller thought back around thirty years and his memory finally arrived at a short, plump, pretty-faced woman who was always smiling and who baked the best cakes Puller could ever remember eating.

“Why is she writing to CID?”

“She’s very ill, unfortunately. Final-stage pancreatic cancer.”

“I’m really sorry to hear that.” Puller glanced at the letter.

Hull said, “She wrote to the CID because she was dying and she wanted to air something that she had been feeling for a long time. Almost like a deathbed statement.”

“Okay,” said Puller, who was now growing impatient. “But what does it have to do with me? I was just a kid back then.”

“As was your brother,” said Shorr.

“You’re not with the MPs,” said Puller.

Shorr shook his head. “But it was decided that some officer heft was required for this, um, meeting.”

“And why was that?” asked Puller.

“Mrs. Demirjian’s husband, Stan, served at Fort Monroe with your father. He was a sergeant first class back then. He’s retired now, of course. Do you remember him?”

“Yes. He served with my father over in Vietnam. They went way back. But can you tell me what’s in that letter?”

Hull said, “I think it best if you read it for yourself, Chief.”

He handed it over. It was three pages in length and it seemed to be in a man’s hand.

“She didn’t write this herself?” said Puller.

“No, she’s too weak. Her husband wrote it, to her dictation.”

Puller spread out the pages on the small table next to his chair and began to read. The two men watched him anxiously as he did so.

The sentences were long and rambling and Puller could imagine the terminally ill woman trying to sufficiently collect her thoughts to communicate them to her husband. Yet it was still more a stream-of-consciousness outpouring than anything else. She was probably medicated when she had dictated it. Puller had to admire her determination to accomplish this when so near death.

And then, with the introductory preambles out of the way, he got into the substance of the letter.

And his mouth gaped.

And his hand shook.

And his stomach felt like someone had sucker-punched him there.

He kept reading, faster and faster, his pace probably neatly matching the breathless dictation of the dying woman.

When he had finished he looked up to find the two men staring at him.

“She’s accusing my father of murdering my mother.”

“That’s right,” said Hull. “That’s exactly right.”

“THIS IS RIDICULOUS,” said Puller. “When my mother went missing my father wasn’t even in the country.”

Ted Hull glanced at Colonel Shorr, cleared his throat, and said, “As I said, we’ve done some preliminary digging.”

Puller said, “Wait a minute, when did you receive this letter?”

“A week ago.”

“And you’re only now telling me about it?”

Shorr interjected, “Chief Puller, I know how upsetting this must be for you.”

“You’re damn right.” Puller caught himself, remembering that the man he was talking to was well above him in rank. “It is upsetting, sir,” he said more calmly.

“And because of the seriousness of the allegation we wanted to do some investigation before bringing the matter to your attention.”

“And what did your investigation show?” Puller said curtly.

“That while your father was out of the country, he arrived back a day earlier than planned. He was in Virginia and in the vicinity of Fort Monroe five or six hours before your mother disappeared.”

Puller felt his heart skip a beat. “That doesn’t prove he was involved.”

“Not at all. But we checked the earlier investigation record. Your father said he was out of the country, and preliminary travel records backed that up. That’s why when the investigation was done back then it cleared him of any possible involvement.”

“So why do you say otherwise now?”

“Because we uncovered additional travel records and vouchers that show your father, who was scheduled to travel back stateside via military transport, actually flew back on a private jet.”

“A private jet? Whose?”

“We’re not certain of that yet. Keep in mind this was thirty years ago.”

Puller rubbed his eyes, truly disbelieving that this was actually happening. “I know how long ago it was. I lived through it. My brother and I. And my father. It was a living hell for us all. It tore our family apart.”

“I can understand that,” said Hull. “But the point is that if your father said he was out of the country and the records indicate otherwise?” He left the obvious implications of that contradiction unspoken.

Puller decided to simply say it. “So you’re saying he lied? Well, the records you uncovered could be wrong. If his name was on a flight manifest it doesn’t alone prove he was on the plane.”

“We need to dig deeper, certainly.”

Puller eyed both men. “But if that was all you had you wouldn’t be sitting here with me.”

Shorr said, “I nearly forgot what you do for a living. You’re well versed in how investigations operate.”

“So what else do you have, Colonel?”

Hull spoke up. “We can’t get into that, Chief. It’s an ongoing investigation.”

“So you’ve opened an investigation based on a letter from a terminally ill woman about events thirty years ago?”

“And the fact that your father was not out of the country as he said he was,” replied Hull defensively. “Look, if we hadn’t turned that up I don’t think we’d be having this conversation. It’s not like I woke up one morning looking to tear down an Army legend, Chief. But it’s a different time too. Back then maybe things got buried that shouldn’t have been. The Army’s taken some knocks over the years for not being transparent.” He stopped and looked at Shorr.

Shorr said, “An investigation file has been opened, Chief Puller, so it has to be followed through. But if no new evidence is turned up, I don’t see this going anywhere. The Army is not looking to destroy your father’s reputation based on a single letter from a dying woman.”

“What sort of new evidence?” asked Puller.

Shorr said firmly, “This was a courtesy meeting, Chief Puller. That’s all. CID will carry on now, but we wanted you to know how things stood and certainly about the letter. Your father being what he is, we thought it only proper to let you know of the status of things.”

Puller didn’t know what to say to this.

Hull said, “We will want to formally interview you later, Chief. And your brother. And your father, of course.”