P Deutermann - Darkside

“How’d Julie like going solo with the cops?”

“She was brave, but I think she’s getting the picture. I told her that she was living dangerously; then I shut her off.”

“Prolong the feeling of exposure.” This is Julie you’re talking about, he reminded himself.

“Exactly. But the security officer being there bothers me a little bit. That sounds like the Academy might not be keeping itself at arm’s length from this investigation. I’m going to make some calls, see what I can find out.”

“Anything I can do?”

“No, I think we should let it play out for now. They might just move on to some other track.”

“Okay, you’re the boss on that, no matter what my darling daughter says.”

“See the article in the paper today?”

“I did, finally. They never found that guy, I suppose.”

“Not yet,” she said. “The bay doesn’t always give her victims back.”

“Well I know,” he said without even thinking. The comment caught Liz off guard.

“I’m so sorry, Ev,” she said quickly. “That was heedless of me.”

He sighed. “Yesterday was…perfect. Until life intruded again.”

“Think of it this way,” she said. “We-but mostly you-saved two people’s lives yesterday. I saw their faces from the pilothouse. They were finished. That makes it a pretty damn good week, in my book.”

“I was talking about us. You.”

“I know, silly. We can deal with life and us, if we play our cards right.”

“Okay, then, how about coming out to my house tonight?” he asked. “You’re as positive as it gets for me right now.”

“Listen to you! Give me an hour. No-make it two. I think I’m going to take a chance on something.”

Jim went back to the boat after checking in with his office and the chief. Nothing out of the ordinary happening, other than the usual semifrantic preparations for commissioning week, the logistical and security issues caused by the presence of the vice president, the hand-holding sessions being set up for the Board of Visitors, and the media siege over the Dell incident. As he drove through the eternally crowded streets of the harbor area, he wondered if he should lay out his own theory on the Dell case for the dant. Probably not. He wasn’t a trained investigator. Even Branner wanted to consult with her own people. And he could be so wrong. Hell, the kid might have gotten depressed, gone up on the roof to stew about it, and tripped. Plebes were, by definition, screwups.

As he passed by the small marina office, Charlie Mack, the dock manager, stuck his head out the door. There was a woman standing behind him in the office.

“Yo, Big Jim, you got a visitor.”

Jim stopped as Charlie stepped aside and a tiny but fully equipped brunette came out of the office. “Mr. Hall?” she said. “I’m Liz DeWinter. Remember? Julie Markham’s attorney? Can we talk?”

“I’m going to have a beer,” Jim said as he turned on more lights in the main lounge. “Can I get you something?” Jupiter was perch-walking, trying to get a better look at the lady lawyer.

“Thanks, no,” Liz said. “I’m a scotch drinker, but I still have to drive home.”

“I’ve got some twelve-year-old Laphroaig back here,” he said, pausing at the door to the galley area.

“Well, in that case,” she said. “Make it a truly wee dram, though.”

“One wee dram coming up,” he said. “So, how’d you find me?”

“Some serious investigative work. The phone book? You were the only Jim Hall. The other three were all listed as James.”

“That’ll do it,” he said, returning with her scotch in a snifter and his glass of bright black Guinness. “Cheers and confusion to the redcoats.”

“Remember Culloden,” she replied. She tasted the single malt. “Lovely, as always.”

“DeWinter,” he said. “That was your boat yesterday? Picked those people up? You and Professor Markham?”

“Small world, isn’t it?” she said. “And now you’re wondering why I’m here.”

Jim sat down across from her in one of the big leather chairs. She was probably ten years older than he was, but definitely a Slinky Toy, even if she was only about five-one in her stockings. Nice stockings, too. He smiled instead of answering, then waited.

“I talked to Julie Markham today, or this evening, actually. She told me that you were present for an NCIS interview on the Dell case. Again. I’m curious.”

“You’re wondering why the Naval Academy security officer’s involved in an NCIS matter.”

“More specifically, still involved in their investigation of what happened to Brian Dell.”

He told her about what had happened to Bagger and his offer to help, leaving out any reference to the tunnel incidents or the dant’s instructions. “NCIS has a two-man office here. Without Agent Thompson, she was on her own. I offered to help, and she took me up on it. I have no official status in her investigation, though.”

“So how can you help Agent Branner?”

“I’m an Academy grad. She needs an interpreter. Someone who can translate what the mids are saying when she does her interviews. A consultant.”

“And what they’re not saying?”

Whoops, he thought. Careful: This one’s switched in. “Yes, and what they’re not saying. I’m going to help her look through the blue-and-gold wall. If I can.”

Liz nodded. “I’m having similar difficulties with that wall,” she said. “What do you think of my client?”

“She was there without her lawyer,” Jim said with a smile. “Not as smart as she looks.”

Liz inclined her glass at him in a small salud.

“Actually, I’ve met her three times,” he continued, in case this was a test. “The first interview, the one today, and a chance encounter at the Natatorium, where I sometimes work out. But you should understand that I didn’t participate in the interview. I was just there, observing and listening.”

“And passing notes. Julie said you passed Branner a note and that then she terminated the interview. If you’re willing to share, I’d like to know what was in that note.”

He frowned. This lady was a defense lawyer. He worked for the government, and, while not really a police officer, he wasn’t sure what he should be telling a possible homicide suspect’s lawyer.

She put down the snifter and shifted in her chair, revealing a flash of great legs. “Look, Mr. Hall, I’m not asking you to divulge details of a government investigation or anything like that. But if I understand the process correctly, the NCIS investigation was turned on by the superintendent. You work for the superintendent. You being in that room gives the administration a direct line into the NCIS investigation, which is supposed to be conducted entirely independently of the command convening it. As I understand it, of course.”

Jim heard more mental warning bells. She was talking directly about command interference. “I could quibble, I guess,” he said. “The investigation was turned on by the commandant, not the supe. Either way, there’s command influence only if I’m reporting back to the administration.”

“Tell me something: Do you think Midshipman Dell was murdered?”

Jim tried not to blink. “Don’t know,” he replied. “I believe that’s what Special Agent Branner’s trying to rule out.”

“You’re a graduate. Do you think it’s possible? Murder at the Naval Academy?”

He sipped some beer to give himself time to think. “Possible? Anything’s possible, I guess. It’s a high-pressure place. But likely? No. I’d hope that the admissions process was better than that. Let me ask you one. Do you think your client caused Dell’s death?”

“I guess I’d have to say that that’s between my client and me, Mr. Hall.”