Darkside

by P. T. Deutermann

  “I think we already know that,” she said briskly. “And you’re going to put a boot up the forensic lab’s ass for me, right?”

  “Not in so many words, but yes,” said Harry Chang with a wry grin. He looked over at Jim, and the smile lost some of its warmth.

  Branner plopped down at the conference table after escorting Harry Chang out to the front door. “I heard Harry say you saw a ghost. I caught it, too. Give.”

  “We were talking about the possibility of a psychopath getting through the admissions filter. How he’d have to live a double life.”

  “Yeah, and?”

  “By day, he’d be Mr. Clean. Maybe super-gung ho. Hard-core, full bore. But by night, maybe he’d run the tunnels, do graffiti, go out in town, consort with the most anti-establishment crowd out there, those Goth freaks, and maybe, in his spare time-”

  “Beat the shit out of drunks. And Bagger. Motherfuck! You think?”

  “If our runner is a mid, then yes, it just might be.”

  “Which would mean your theory of the Dell case goes from being off-the-wall to on the mark.”

  “Not like I have any evidence, though,” he said, getting up to dump his coffee cup. His nerves were starting to jangle. He raised his eyebrows at Branner, but she shook her head. “I mean, all I know about this guy is that he’s game.” Then he told her about the tennis ball.

  “You figure he knows who you are?”

  “I figure he knows I’m someone in authority here at Canoe U. Specifically, no, not unless he figured out my cryptogram, Hall-Man-Chu.”

  The phone rang back in Branner’s office again. She got up to get it, and Jim went to the whiteboard to lay out a list of what they did know about the runner. He was halfway through it when Branner came back in and punched a button on the speakerphone.

  “Detective, I’ve got you on a speaker,” she said. “With me is Mr. Jim Hall, security officer here at the Academy. Mr. Hall, this is Detective Sorensen, who’s got some news. Go ahead, Detective.”

  “Right,” Sorensen said. “As I was telling Agent Branner, we’ve got a missing persons report in from the college. One Hermione Natter. Remember her?”

  “Yes,” Jim said. “The Goth girl we picked up in the tunnels.”

  “That’s the one. You guys didn’t file any immediate charges, so we ROR’ed her. Well, now her faculty adviser is back to us, asking if we picked her up again, because she missed all her classes yesterday and her morning ones today.”

  “Kids skip all the time,” Branner said.

  “Yeah, but this adviser-name’s Evelyn Wallace-had our Hermione on a short tether since we picked her up. Supposed to report in at the end of each day kinda thing, plus no more all-night flights with the rest of the coven. Well, she didn’t show. Adviser asked around, found out she’d gone AWOL.”

  “She go home?” Jim asked.

  “Pulled that string. Parents didn’t have a clue. In fact, didn’t know she’d been in trouble with the cops. Did know she was doing the Goth scene.”

  “But they hadn’t heard from her.”

  “That’s a negative. Now they’re all spun up. I told them to call Professor Wallace. She called back here, saying Hermione’s roommate hasn’t seen her for three days. The college cops are involved now, so we’re gonna have us a situation here, I think.”

  “Is the roommate into the Goth scene, too?” Jim asked.

  “Don’t know. Professor Wallace simply gave me the facts. Said the parents are coming down to Annapolis from D.C. this afternoon. They’re both civil servants, apparently.”

  “Well, we don’t have her and haven’t seen her,” Branner said. “Are you gonna work it?”

  “Unless I can find someone else to, yeah, I’ll work it. They’ll want to talk to you guys.”

  “We’re available. And she’s just flat gone, huh?”

  “Well, with that Goth crap, who knows? You know how they get, all into doom, death, despair, vampires and shit. Maybe she flew off to Transylvania for some OJT.”

  Jim and Branner smiled. Then Jim remembered he hadn’t told the dant about catching the girl in the tunnel. “When you come to the Academy, come through me if you can,” Jim said. “I need to go up my tape so nobody gets surprised.”

  “Better go now, then,” Sorensen said. “The only reason we saw her was because of you guys.”

  “Will do,” Jim said, and gave the detective his office phone number. Sorensen thanked him and hung up.

  “I’ve gotta get over to the admin building,” Jim said. “I told the Ops boss about the runner, but he didn’t want to go up the line with it because of the Dell incident. I don’t need the dant getting blindsided.”

  “Okay, you do that. Then let’s meet and get going on Markham. I’m assuming this Natter bullshit won’t knock Dell off the top of the dant’s priority list.”

  “How about this other problem, the runner? I’d planned to go back down tonight to see if he got my message, but he made it clear he already had. So now I’m gonna set up some backup with my guys and go after him tomorrow night.”

  She thought about that. “If he’s tied into this Dell business, maybe sooner would be better. Get him, we might not need Markham.”

  Jim shook his head. “My theory’s interesting, but hardly solid. We need Markham. I still think she’s the key to what happened to Brian Dell. I’ll call you from my office.”

  Jim found the operations officer having an early lunch at his desk, the Washington Post spread out under his sandwich.

  “Only time I ever get to read the damn paper,” he said. “What’s up?”

  Jim told him about the developments with the missing girl, and that someone would be coming to see the Academy authorities soon.

  “Oh, great,” Michaels groaned. “Just what we need-more bereft parents.”

  “I need to back-brief the dant on where we are with the Dell case. I can bring him up to speed on this stuff, too.”

  “He’s gonna ask why he didn’t hear about it before-the runner bit, I mean. And that’s my fault.”

  “Actually, he did, at one of the first Dell meetings. Picking up the girl will be news. I did that. He won’t have time for getting pissed off.”

  “He probably won’t have time to see you, either,” Michaels said, pulling out the executive calendar sheet. “He’s got a dry run for the Board of Visitors briefing. He’ll be with the academics all day today. That’ll put him in a great mood.”

  “I’ll check with his admin guy; the dant said to come see him when I had news and that he’d work me in.”

  “Take your flak vest, matey,” Michaels said. “And if there’s any shit over my not bringing the runner problem up the line, I’ll go fall on my sword later this afternoon.”

  Jim grinned. Commander Michaels was in his swan-song tour, with retirement coming in less than a year. He definitely did not sweat the career load. Jim called the dant’s assistant but struck out. Everyone was with the dant over in the Mahan Hall auditorium. Jim asked the secretary where the commandant would be for lunch.

  “With the supe in quarters,” she told him. “He’ll swing back through here for five minutes at around thirteen-fifteen. And no, you can’t see him then.”

  “Tell you what,” he said. “Tell him I need two minutes on the Dell matter. I’ll be waiting in the rotunda.”

  “I’ll tell him, Mr. Hall,” she said. “But with his sked today, you’ve got those famous two chances.”

  She was wrong. Jim was summoned a few minutes later. The dant was standing behind his desk skimming through a stack of staffing folders. His assistant stood at his side, making notes. Three lines were blinking on hold on the console phone. Jim stood in front of the commandant’s desk for three minutes before the dant finally looked up.

  “Report,” he said.

  Jim had done some thinking about what to say in the allotted 120 seconds. The dant would not be interested in theories. He wanted to know where NCIS was with the case.

  “Sir, th
ey’re pursuing a homicide investigation,” he began. The dant put down the folder he had been reading and stared at him over the top of his reading glasses.

  “Ruling out or ruling in?”

  “In my opinion, ruling in.” He told the dant about meeting Harry Chang and that they were going to pull a board together to review the forensics package. “And there’s a possible link to another problem I’ve been working, sir. The tunnel runner.”

  The commandant decided to sit down in his chair. “Tell Mary to tell the dean I’ll be delayed ten minutes,” he said to the assistant, who left the room. Jim then reviewed what had been going on with the runner, including the news that more parents were inbound.

  “There’s a possibility that this guy was responsible for beating up that NCIS agent, Thompson, last week, plus some other incidents in town. Assuming he’s a mid, we’ve got a really bad apple loose in the Brigade. If that’s all true, and I know there’s a lot of assuming going on, I believe he might be connected to the Dell case.”

  “You have evidence of any of this?”

  “No, sir. Nothing direct. But Special Agent Branner thinks it might be possible. I’m setting up a full court press to catch this guy, and then we’ll see if there’s a link to the Dell case.”

  “I’m not sure I understand,” Robbins said, frowning. “What link?”

  “Sir, given the time press right now, it would take too long to explain that. I’m inside the NCIS investigation, and they’re comfortable with that, including that Harry Chang guy.”

  “Hang on a minute,” Robbins said, and hit the intercom button. When his admin assistant responded, he said, “Pren, the subject is NCIS. Find out who Harry Chang is. He’s at their HQ.”

  “Aye, aye, sir,” the assistant answered. The commandant turned back to Jim.

  “These are our problems, Mr. Hall,” he said. “A dead midshipman. The Board of Visitors. The press. Dell’s parents. Commissioning week. The vice president. We need the Dell matter resolved, not expanded. Understood?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “And if there’s any doubt or ambiguity about this being a homicide, we need a determination that it wasn’t a homicide, and we need that in public, and now would be really nice. I’m not pleased at all to hear about ruling in rather than ruling out. You sure this isn’t some kind of ego trip with that Branner woman?”

  Jim hesitated. Branner’s ego was obviously formidable. And she’d wanted no outside help with the Dell case. And the same thing with the runner-if this runner was the one who got Bagger, his ass was hers. But then, Chang had hinted that maybe Branner was being set up for a fall, for being too independent. “I guess that’s possible, sir,” he began. “But-”

  “No buts, Mr. Hall,” Robbins said. “I’m ready to weigh in at the highest levels in NCIS or above if that’s what it takes. It is preposterous, in my opinion, to think that Dell was murdered. No one has turned up any mortal enemies, and my sources tell me he was surviving, if not exactly prospering, as a plebe. His parents avow that he was not overly depressed, and definitely not suicidal. I think he fell off the damn roof by accident, and unless there is direct and palpable evidence to the contrary, that’s the ruling I’m looking for. And, like I said, today would be nice. Right now would be nice.”

  “Sir?” came the assistant’s voice on the intercom.

  “Go.”

  “Mr. Harry Chang is the number-three guy at NCIS. He’s an SES, directs all their criminal investigations. Big kahuna.”

  “Thank you,” Robbins said, and turned back to Jim. “Was this how he was introduced to you, Jim?”

  “Not exactly, sir,” Jim said, flushing a little. “Branner said he was in charge of homicide investigations.” Mentally, he swore. Had Branner and Chang been screwing around with him at that little meeting?

  “Isn’t that interesting,” Robbins said. “Okay, I’m out of time. Keep going, but brief me daily, starting tomorrow. Go tell the deputy dant everything you know about your tunnel runner and the arrest of that civilian girl, but, for the moment at least, leave out any tie-in with the Dell case. Go do that now. He’ll handle any further inquiries on that problem. That’s all.”

  Jim nodded. As he left the room, he overheard Robbins telling the assistant to get the deputy commandant on the line ASAP. He assumed there was going to be some political precalibration. He’d wait ten minutes before going next door to see him. In the meantime, he needed to talk to Branner.

  It was three o’clock by the time Jim had finished briefing the deputy commandant on the tunnel runner situation. He had called the chief in so that he could bring him up to speed at the same time. About the time Jim was finishing up, the deputy’s secretary had announced that a Detective Sorensen of the Annapolis Police Department was on the line and wanted to speak to him about a missing college girl. Rogers had waved Jim and the chief out of the office with a grim smile. Both were glad to escape with at least part of their afternoon still intact.

  The chief gave Jim a ride back over to the admin building as the Yard filled with midshipmen returning from afternoon classes. He parked on the Maryland Avenue side of the building, pulling into the superintendent’s official slot, but kept the engine running. “You keep this up, you’re gonna have to go get a job as a detective,” he said. “I haven’t seen you so involved with your job since you got here.”

  Jim gave him a sideways look, and the chief put up his hands. “No offense, boss,” he said. “It’s just that us old-timer Yard cops have always kinda wondered what, um-”

  “Don’t start, Chief,” Jim said testily. “Talk to me about backup and a plan of action for catching this little fuck.”

  Bustamente nodded earnestly. “Right, boss. So, I think tonight would be too soon. I need to get a gander at those maps of yours and talk to my sergeants. We have to coordinate some overtime, figure out where we need to put people, and how to do it without attracting attention. From what you say, this guy’s got pretty good antennae.”

  Jim agreed. Tonight would be too soon to set up a coordinated operation. And it was only Tuesday. Wednesday night would be a much more probable window for the runner to make an excursion, because there was no town liberty on Wednesday night. “Come inside and I’ll get you those maps. I also want a PWC boss to know about it, but not everybody in PWC. This guy’s managed to get keys; he may have penetrated their internal control system, too.”

  Jim met with Branner at 4:30 back in the NCIS office. Her phone rang just as they were getting coffee, so she had to go take care of that first. As he sat at the conference table, he tried to work out what, if anything, to say about the commandant’s earlier comments. Probably nothing at all. Harry Chang might have been all about putting Jim at ease, while at the same time sending notice to the Academy that there was adult supervision being brought to bear on the local NCIS office. And yet, Branner hadn’t seemed to have been overly deferential or even worried about Chang’s senior rank. But then, we’re talking about Branner, aren’t we? he thought. A woman who would never win the Miss Deferential contest.

  The second issue was the Dell case and Midshipman Julie Markham. He thought he had that worked out. He was about to go get some coffee, when a pale Agent Branner came back into the conference room. The expression on her face made him forget what he’d been thinking about.

  “What?” he said.

  She sank slowly into the chair at the head of the table. “Bagger Thompson. He died an hour ago. Stroked out. Blood clot got him.”

  “Oh shit,” Jim said. “I’m truly sorry.”

  Branner nodded numbly, staring down at the table. She seemed to shrink into herself, and for a moment, Jim wanted to get up and go to her. But he kept his seat, knowing fury would follow her shock at losing Thompson. And of course it had been Jim who’d taken Thompson out into town and introduced him to the black Irish beer.

  “Don’t blame yourself,” she said, as if reading his mind. “Bagger always drank too much. And when he did, all his inhibitions and
most of his training went right out the window. He liked to fight, too. You’d never know it, behind that mild-mannered office face. But he came up from a tough neighborhood. Positively loved to rumble.”

  “What happens now?”

  “That was my divisional supervisor at the Navy Yard. They’re convening a board to decide what to do next. They have my report from when it happened. My guess is that they’ll get with the Annapolis cops and start a circus.”

  “I met with my chief this afternoon. He’s setting up for tomorrow night, when we’re gonna try to nail this guy.”

  “I will be there,” she said, still not looking at him.

  “Goes without saying,” he replied immediately, although he hadn’t planned that she would be along. But now…

  “This business with the missing Goth girl. I got Harry Chang on his cell phone, gave him the background on that. He’s wondering if she might have been ‘disappeared’ by this guy, whoever the hell he is. Because she knows who he is.”

  “Whew,” Jim said. “But how would he know that we arrested her? Or what she might have said to us?”

  “She told him? And then said she hadn’t given him up to the cops?”

  “And he-what? Assumed she had? And then did something to her? I don’t know, Branner-that’s stretching it a little bit.”

  “Not if he’s the guy behind what happened to Brian Dell.”

  Hoo boy, Jim thought. That theory was my contribution, wasn’t it? “Maybe we’re getting a little ahead of ourselves here,” he said. “If we’ve got some guy, mid or civilian, who’s responsible for people dying, maybe it’s Bureau time. This shit’s getting out of hand.”

  “Not necessarily,” she said. “I’d get laughed out of court with all these theories based on the evidence we don’t have. Look, we, or you, know those tunnels better than anyone right now. Let’s take a shot. If he gets by us again, then I’ll declare defeat and get the bosses to initiate a monster mash.”

  “The dant will need to know about Bagger.”

  “Certainly. And I’m going to have to go up to D.C. this evening. Probably stay the night. I’ll brief my boss on what we’re gonna try tomorrow night. You’ll have manpower?”