P Deutermann - Darkside

He pointed to chairs, and then everyone sat down. Jim started it off by saying that he was assisting Special Agent Branner of the NCIS in an investigation into the death of Midshipman Brian Dell.

“As I’m sure you all know, Midshipman Dell was killed in a fall from the rooftop of the eighth wing. In the course of the investigation, agent Branner determined that Midshipman Julie Markham might be tangentially involved in this matter.”

“In what manner, sir?” one of the midshipmen asked.

“Is this conversation privileged?” Branner asked, directing her question at Rogers.

“Yes, it is,” he replied. “What’s said here stays here. The board secretary will write up summary minutes for the record, which the chairman will approve. But given the possible consequences to anyone who’s being examined by this group, the board keeps it all close-hold.”

“Okay, then,” Jim continued. “Midshipman Dell was wearing women’s underwear when he died. Specifically, underwear that belonged to Midshipman First Class Julie Markham.”

The three midshipmen looked at one another but said nothing. Jim noticed that the DCI, Hays, didn’t seem surprised. For some reason, the name Hays was sticking in Jim’s mind.

“Naturally, the investigation focused on Markham in the context of whether or not she knew Dell, or had possibly even been intimate with him. She denied the latter, but she did state that she knew who Dell was, and that she had had dealings with him.”

“‘Dealings’?” the chairman asked.

“In the course of his plebe summer,” Jim said.

Magnuson nodded and made a note on his legal pad.

“There were two other connections, the varsity swim team, and the discovery of Dell’s clothing in her room.” He went on to describe that.

All three midshipmen took notes. He went on. “We are exploring the possibility that someone may have either influenced Dell to commit suicide or done something that resulted in Dell coming off that roof.”

“You mean you think someone killed him?” asked Captain Rogers in a surprised voice.

Apparently, he had not heard the rumors, Jim thought, although the three midshipmen did not seem surprised by this information, either. “Yes, sir, that’s a possibility. Because one of the things that’s come out of the investigation is that no one who knew Midshipman Dell thought he was suicidal.”

“Could it have been grab-ass up there on the roof?” the chairman asked.

“With a guy wearing panties?” said Vannuys, the recording secretary. This produced a faint smile on the chairman’s face. Branner slapped the brown envelope down on the conference table, startling everybody. She slid it across to the chairman.

“Those are some pictures of Brian Dell,” she said. “After he hit the concrete. Take a good look, Mr. Magnuson. See if you still think this is funny.”

The chastened midshipman stared at the envelope and then at Captain Rogers, who nodded. Magnuson fished the pictures out, took one look, blanched, and passed them to his left. Hays looked at each one before passing them to Vannuys, who was visibly aghast at what he saw. The recording secretary got up and gave the pictures to Captain Rogers, who avoided looking at them, tidied them into a neat pile, and slid them back across the table to Branner.

“That’s what we’re here to talk about, gentlemen,” she said. “In barracks terms, this is serious shit, in case you didn’t notice. And that puddle of human flesh was not what Chief Petty Officer and Mrs. Dell expected from their son’s Academy experience, okay?”

All three nodded, almost in unison.

“Here’s our problem,” she continued. “Based on interviews, it is our opinion that Midshipman Markham does know something about what happened to Dell. Either something that would explain why he’d jump or something that would point a finger at someone else who might have been involved. The cross-dressing means something. Grab-ass, homosexual activity, or even sadomasochistic behavior. We don’t know. But we think Markham does.”

“And you want us to do what, exactly, ma’am?” the chairman asked. Branner glanced sideways at Jim.

“Make the fact that she knows something but isn’t telling an honor issue,” Jim said. “Do what you guys do in such a manner as to find out what she knows.”

“But it’s not,” the chairman said.

“Not what?”

“An honor issue. What she knows is not an honor issue. You’re confusing us with West Point. Their code doesn’t tolerate anyone who lies, cheats, or steals, or who has knowledge of those who do. Our code stops at the word steals. ”

“Knowledge might constitute a conduct offense,” Rogers said. “Knowing of an honor offense and not saying anything constitutes an offense against the Academy’s regulations.”

“But that’s not an honor offense?” Jim asked.

“No, sir,” said the chairman.

Jim, surprised, didn’t know what to say. Branner leaned forward. “What if she said she knew nothing pertinent but she actually did?”

“That would be a lie. That could be an honor offense.”

“Then once again, how about you finding out what she knows?”

“Did she tell you that she knows nothing about what happened to Dell?” asked Hays.

“Yes,” Branner said. “So if you could find an indication that she knows something about this, other than what we’ve told you and shown you, then-”

“Agent Branner, ma’am,” Midshipman Magnuson said, “with all due respect, I have no idea of how to do that, or if we even should do that.”

He looked over at Captain Rogers as if for moral support, and the captain indicated he should go on. “Ma’am, the Honor Committee investigates actions. Someone tells a lie and gets caught out. Someone steals something. Someone is seen cheating on an exam-crib notes written on his forearm-again, actions. But we don’t investigate anything until there’s been an accusation made, and the matter’s already been discussed between the accuser and accused. That’s step one: Approach and discuss. I don’t know how we would prove that she knows something about the Dell incident. DCI, you want to comment?”

“I do,” said Hays. Of the three midshipmen, he was the largest. Jim figured him for a varsity athlete. Wide shoulders, big, rangy physique. That look of watchful aggression.

“Go ahead,” Rogers said.

“Normally, I’d assign a BIO,” Hays said. “That’s one of our Brigade investigative officers. But given that,” the DCI said, pointing at the pictures, “I think that I should talk to Midshipman Markham.”

“How would you proceed?” Branner asked. “I mean, why should she talk to you?”

“Because of who I am on this board,” Hays said. “And because of what I can do. I’m the DCI. I can call in everyone who knows her. Her roommates, past and present. The other members of the swim team. All the firsties in her company. The people in her academic classes. Her instructors. Her extracurricular activities officers. I’d tell ’em we’re doing an honor investigation, and that I want to know what they know about Midshipman Markham.”

“That’s a lot of people,” Jim said.

“That’s the point, sir,” the DCI said. “If there’s anything weird about her four years here, one of those people will reveal that. And she’ll know that. Everyone here has some bones in his locker.”

Jim remembered the commandant saying basically the same thing. “And you think she’d tell you what you want to know?”

“I happen to know Julie Markham,” the young man said. “Actually, we’ve dated. So ordinarily, I’d recuse myself. Someone else would have to do it. But seeing as we’re this close to graduation, I’d feel comfortable getting the ball rolling. And because we have, um, history, I think I could find out something faster than anyone else.”