figured there was nothing to say. Whatever I talked about she
would know I had called to ask: Are you still alive? She would
know that was what was on my mind.
So I got out of my chair and picked up the map and smoothed
it out. Taped it back on the wall. I picked up all seven pins and
put them back in place. Taped the gate log alongside the map.
Then I pulled it down again. It was useless. I balled it up and
threw it in the trash. Left the map there all on its own. My
sergeant came in with more coffee. I wondered briefly about
her baby’s father. Where was he? Had he been an abusive
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husband? If so, he was probably buried in a swamp somewhere.
Or several swamps, in several pieces. My phone rang and she
answered it for me. Passed me the receiver.
‘Detective Clark,’ she said. ‘Up in Virginia.’
I trailed the phone cord around the desk and sat down again.
‘We’re making progress now,’ he said. ‘The Sperryville crowbar
is our weapon, for sure. We got an identical sample from
the hardware store and our medical examiner matched it up.’
‘Good work,’ I said.
‘So I’m calling to tell you I can’t keep on looking. We found
ours, so we can’t be looking for yours any more. I can’t justify
the overtime budget.’
‘Sure,’ I said. ‘We anticipated that.’
‘So you’re on your own with it now, bud. And I’m real sorry
about that.’
I said nothing.
‘Anything at your end? You got a name for me yet?’
I smiled. You can forget about a name, I thought. Bud. No quo, no quid. Not that there ever was a name in the first place.
‘I’ll let you know,’ I said.
Summer came back after thirty more minutes and I told her to
take the rest of the night off. Told her to meet me for breakfast
in the O Club. At nine o’clock exactly, when Willard’s orders
were due. I figured we could have a long leisurely meal, plenty
of eggs, plenty of coffee, and we could stroll back over about
ten fifteen.
‘You moved the map,’ she said.
‘Willard tore it down. I put it back up.’
‘He’s dangerous.’
‘Maybe,’ I said. ‘Maybe not. Time will tell.’
She went back to her quarters and I went back to mine. I was
in a room in the Bachelor Officers’ row. It was pretty much like
a motel. There was a street named after some long-dead Medal
of Honor winner and a path branching off from the sidewalk
that led to my door. There were posts every twenty yards with
street lights on them. The one nearest nay door was out. It was
out because it had been busted with a stone. I could see glass
on the path. And three guys in the shadows. I walked past the
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first one. He was the Delta sergeant with the beard and the tan.
He tapped the face of his watch with his forefinger. The second
guy did the same thing. The third guy just smiled. I got inside
and closed my door. Didn’t hear them walk away. I didn’t sleep
well.
They were gone by morning. I made it to the O Club OK. At
nine o’clock the dining room was pretty much empty, which
was an advantage. The disadvantage was that whatever food
remained had been stewing on the buffet for a while. But on
balance I thought it was a good situation. I was more of a loner
than a gourmet. Summer and I sat across from each other at a
small table in the centre of the room. Between us we ate almost
everything that was left. Summer consumed about a pound of
grits and two pounds of biscuits. She was small, but she could
eat. That was for damn sure. We took our time with our coffee
and walked over to my office at ten twenty. There was mayhem
inside. Every phone was ringing. The Louisiana corporal looked
harassed.
‘Don’t answer your phone,’ he said. ‘It’s Colonel Willard. He
wanted immediate confirmation that you’d gotten your orders.