‘They’re listed on the gate log.’
‘Sit down,’ I said.
She paused, surprised, and then she sat where Willard had.
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‘I’m toxic,’ I said. ‘You shotdd walk away from me right now.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘We were right,’ I said. ‘Fort Bird is a very embarrassing
place. First Kramer, then Carbone. Willard is closing both cases
down, to spare the army’s blushes.’
‘He can’t close Carbone down.’
‘Training accident,’ I said. ‘He tripped and fell and hit his
head.’
‘What?’
‘He’s using it as a test for me. Am I with the programme or
not?’
‘Are you?’
I didn’t answer.
‘They’re illegal orders,’ Summer said. ‘They have to be.’
‘Are you prepared to challenge them?’
She didn’t reply. The only practical way to challenge illegal
orders was to disobey them and then take your chances
with the resulting general court martial, which would inevitably
become a mano a mano struggle with a guy way higher on the
food chain, in front of a presiding judge who was well aware of
the army’s preference that orders should never be questioned.
‘So nothing ever happened,’ I said. ‘Bring all your paperwork
here and forget you ever heard of me or Kramer or Carbone.’
She said nothing.
‘And speak to the guys who were there last night. Tell them
to forget what they saw.’
She looked down at the floor.
‘Then go back to the O Club and wait for your next assignment.’
She looked up at me.
‘Are you serious?’ she said.
‘Totally,’ I said. ‘I’m giving you a direct order.’
She stared at me. ‘You’re not the man I thought you were.’
I nodded.
‘I agree,’ I said. ‘I’m not.’
She walked out and I gave her a minute to get clear and then I
picked up the folded paper she had left behind. There was a lot
of it. I found the page I wanted, and I stared at it.
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Because I don’t like coincidences.
Vassell and Coomer had entered Bird by the main gate at six
forty-five in the evening of the night Carbone had died. They
had left again at ten o’clock. Three and a quarter hours, right
across Carbone’s time of death.
Or, right across dinner time.
I picked up the phone and called the O Club dining room. A
mess sergeant told me the NCO in charge would call me back.
Then I called my own sergeant and asked her to find out who
was my opposite number at Fort Irwin, and to get him on the
line. She Came in four minutes later with a mug of coffee for me.
‘He’s all tied up,’ she said. ‘Could be half an hour. His name is
Franz.’
‘Can’t be,’ I said. ‘Franz is in Panama. I talked to him there
face to face.’
‘Major Calvin Franz,’ she said. ‘That’s what they told me.’
‘Call them back,’ I said. ‘Double check.’
She left my coffee on my desk and went back out to her
phone. Came in again after another four minutes and confirmed
that her information had been correct.
‘Major Calvin Franz,’ she said again. ‘He’s been there since
December twenty-ninth.’
I looked down at my calendar. January 5th.
‘And you’ve been here since December twenty-ninth,’ she
said.
I looked straight at her.
‘Call some more posts,’ I said. ‘The big ones only. Start with
Fort Benning, and work through the alphabet. Get me the
names of their MP XOs, and find out how long they’ve been
there.’
She nodded and went back out. The NCO from the dining
room called me back. I asked him about Vassell and Coomer.
He confirmed they had eaten dinner in the O Club. Vassell had
gone with the halibut, and Coomer had opted for the steak.
‘Did they eat on their own?’ I asked.
‘No, sir, they were with an assortment of senior officers,’ the
guy said.
‘Was it a date?’
‘No, sir, we had the impression it was impromptu. It was an
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odd collection of people. I think they all hooked up in the bar,
over aperitifs. Certainly we had no reservation for the group.’
‘How long were they there?’
‘They were seated before seven thirty, and they got up just